Page 102 of High Frequency

“Yes?”

“Can you tell Dan I’m really sorry?”

Dan

It’s past four in the morning when I park the truck next to my cabin.

Wolff and I had been good to go hours ago, but Sloane was still waiting on the outcome of a few tests before they were comfortable letting her go. She was none too happy about the delay and when it was suggested she simply spend the night, she threatened to leave against medical advice.

Sully and Jonas had shown up at the hospital to check on us and brought my truck so we’d have wheels home. They ended up giving Wolff a ride home while I stayed behind with Sloane.

I’m not sure if she is in pain, tired, or what is going on, but she’s grown very quiet these past few hours since she had a hissy fit over spending the night at the hospital. She almost seems flat, with little reaction to what is happening around her.

Even now, she’s sitting in the passenger seat of my truck, engine off, just staring out the windshield.

“Can I make a suggestion?”

She turns her head to me, and looks like she only now realizes where she is. But at least I have her attention.

“Sorry?”

“Rather than waking up Aspen and your mom now, why don’t you come with me? I can help you shower off some of that grime without getting those stitches wet. We can sleep for a few hours and then you can head home a bit more refreshed.”

I know they said no shower for twenty-four hours but, surely, they don’t expect her to walk around covered in dirt and soot, reeking like the inside of a chimney until tonight. I can use the handheld shower to keep the water away from the cut, which is at the hairline behind her right ear.

“Okay.”

Another flatly delivered response, which is so out of character for Sloane, who generally is highly animated and fully engaged. I get the sense something more than pain or fatigue is brewing.

“Sit tight, I’ll come get you.”

Once inside the cabin, I lead her straight to the bathroom. I turn on the water as she strips down. Then I help her in the tub, getting her to sit on the edge to keep the weight off her ankle. I manage to avoid getting the stitches wet by having her lean forward as I do my best to wash the smoke out of most of her hair.

There’s little to no conversation from either of us during her brief shower or after, when I wrap a big towel around her and help her out of the tub. I guess this very long day is getting to me too.

In the bedroom, I hand her one of my T-shirts and flip back the cover on the bed.

“I’m just gonna throw our clothes in the washer and grab a quick shower myself.”

Ten minutes later, feeling much better, I’m surprised to find Sloane still up, watching me as I walk into the bedroom.

The moment I crawl under the covers she turns to me, putting her head on my shoulder and her hand in the middle of my chest.

“I’ve been thinking…”

I cover her hand with mine. “I was wondering what was going on in your head.” Then I press a kiss to her hair. “Talk to me.”

“I’m no better than Jeff.”

“What?” I shift on my side so I can look at her. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been so focused on my job, so eager to get this case resolved, I didn’t even think twice about Aspen, I just went up that mountain.”

“I call bullshit,” I counter. “You didn’t abandon your daughter for a bunch of lofty dreams. You left your child in the capable hands of your mother while you went out to do the very important job of trying to make sure no more young girls end up like Nita or even Chelsea.”

“But I risked my life. I wasn’t thinking about my daughter when I chose to stay in a burning building with a virtual stranger to try and get her free. If something had happened to me?—”

“But it didn’t,” I interrupt, squeezing her hand in mine. “You’re right here.”

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