Page 84 of High Intensity

“That’s right too, you don’t know. I went to walk the dogs after you left yesterday morning, and when I got back, Bellinger and another agent were coming up my steps.”

She proceeds to fill me in on her conversation with them, and the only thing holding me back from giving the special agent in charge a piece of my mind is Jillian’s description of Hayley’s condition. Then—while we eat breakfast—she recites the events of the day, after discovering the safe house they were keeping the girl at is only a few minutes up the road.

“Good for you,” I compliment her when she finishes telling me how she not only managed to get her to eat, but finally broke through Hayley’s protective shell. “So you plan to go back today?”

“Yeah, but first I want to hear about your search yesterday, how did it go?”

I know as soon as I get into that, any chance of some morning loving goes out the window, so I give her the basics only.

“Found all three.”

It’s clear from the expression on her face, my answer doesn’t satisfy her.

“What happened?”

I’m not used to sharing experiences with someone. A hangover from my Bureau days, when almost everything was considered confidential, I guess. Or maybe I was never much of a sharer to begin with, aside from the fact I never really had anyone to share things with.

Not someone like Jillian, who is made of sterner stuff than most. The woman has a cadaver dog; she searches for dead people. She’s tough as nails, as she proved last year when she and Emo found a boneyard full of murder victims.

She’s probably the one person I could—and should—share with.

“They got caught on an ice shelf over a cliff. One went down and ended up at the bottom, dead, but his screams got the other two running. Their combined weight broke more of the ice shelf off, but they survived the fall when they landed on a ledge a third of the way down. They were barely hanging on by the time we got to them.”

“Tough rescue?” she asks, her voice warm with understanding.

I’m remembering the recovery of the body from the bottom of the canyon. It hadn’t been pretty.

“The couple came out alive, so I guess that’s a positive, but the dead guy was the wife’s brother, and we had to virtually scrape him off the rocks.”

She winces at my crass description, but rallies with a smile right away.

“Have you had a shower yet?” she wants to know.

“Had one last night before I rolled into bed. Why?”

Her smile goes from sweet to calculating. “Wanna have one with me?”

That would be ahellyes.

My body is already perking up in response before the words make it out of my mouth.

“Fuck yeah.”

Jillian

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I get dressed.

The flush on my cheeks is probably from hanging upside down while I blow-dried my hair, but the stupid smile on my face was definitely put there by Lucas Wolff.

The man has skills he put to good use in my cozy little shower earlier. He’s bossy too, which I find I don’t mind at all. He even offered to take the pack for a walk along the creek while I got myself ready for the day.

I’d intended to get an earlier start—it’s almost nine now—but I don’t regret a single minute of how my day started. I could get used to that. Although, if it includes a box of baked goods every morning, it might start impacting my flexibility, which—as I’ve discovered—is much appreciated by Wolff.

Stopping in the bathroom, I run a quick final brush through my hair before heading to the kitchen to pack up a couple of pastries for Hayley. Wolff should be back with the dogs soon. I glance out the kitchen window to see if there is any sign of them, when I’m surprised by a knock at the front door.

Seriously? Two days in a row?

I walk up to the door and check the peephole. Not Bellinger this time, but two men I don’t know, although I recognize one of them from pictures I found researching the Vallard family online.

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