Page 4 of High Frequency

Before anyone can stop me, I rush upstairs where I find Carmi sitting on the edge of my bed. I’d forgotten about her.

Blinking a few times and forcing a smile on my face, I give my cousin a quick hug.

“Thanks for looking after her.”

“Are you waking her up?” she asks expectantly.

“Not until the morning. I was actually going to bed myself, but maybe you can give me a hand changing her diaper tomorrow morning when we get up?”

“Sure!”

I involuntarily chuckle at her enthusiasm. I’m sure it’ll wane when she’s first introduced to one of Aspen’s impressive diaper explosions.

As Carmi almost skips out of the room, I close the door behind her and—forfeiting my toothbrush and pajamas—crawl into bed fully dressed. I roll on my side so I can look at my daughter’s perfect little face in her travel bed, pulling the covers up to my ears.

It’s just you and me now.

Two

Sloane

“You’re awake.”

Aspen’s eyes find me without a problem, and I’m greeted with a wide, gummy smile.

Obviously, her sunny disposition first thing in the morning is not something she inherited from me, but I’m grateful for it. That smile does more for my mood than a good jolt of java, although it’s the smell of fresh coffee that first woke me up.

Her hands come up and grab at my hair when I bend down to blow a raspberry in her neck. I smile against her skin when I hear her excited, “Gah.”

She’s really starting to vocalize, testing sounds and volume, occasionally startling herself. Already it feels like every time I look away she’s developed some new skill or hit a next milestone.

Carefully untangling my daughter’s little fingers from my hair, I look down in her pale blue eyes.

“Can you keep yourself entertained for two more minutes while Mommy gets dressed?”

I turn on the mobile Pippa dug out of a box in the garage. It turns out she kept quite a few things from when Carmi was a baby, which is helpful since most of Aspen and my things are packed in a storage facility back in Billings, waiting for me to find a place of my own.

Today is hopefully the first step in that direction.

I drop my towel and dig through the clothes I moved into the closet when we got here last week. I need something professional-looking to wear for my interview today. I finally got a call back from the sheriff’s office yesterday. The same sheriff’s office I spent nearly four years working for almost a decade ago, before I moved to Billings.

Back then Wayne Ewing was sheriff, but he retired shortly after I left. For a few years after that some other guy held office until Ewing’s son, Junior, was voted in. I remember Junior, who was a deputy back when I was. He’s who I have an appointment with this morning about a possible job.

Sully offered to talk to Jonas about me working in some office capacity for the High Mountain Trackers team, but I have a little too much pride left to allow my uncle to beg for a job for me. Let alone an office job. I’m keeping my fingers crossed I can get my old position back at the sheriff’s office. It’ll be a substantial step back for me, both career-wise and financially, but my life circumstances have changed. Besides, the cost of living is less in Libby than in the big city.

I check my reflection in the mirror on the back of the door. I think I look professional enough in navy slacks and my white dress shirt. My short hair doesn’t require more than a quick comb and I haven’t bothered with makeup in years.

“All right, baby girl, are you ready to get dressed?”

“Sloane?”

I turn my head to find Pippa standing in the doorway, a concerned look on her face.

“Hey. We were just on our way down.”

“There’s been a change of plans. Carmi just tried to slice off her finger cutting an apple. She’s going to need stitches.”

“Oh no. Is she okay?”

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