Page 131 of Crosshairs

Her voice hadn’t cracked yesterday when she’d sung in Linc’s hospital room, but that didn’t mean anything. “I’m almost afraid to try.”

“Maybe you should see a voice teacher.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He pushed back from the table. “I think we’re about done here. Let’s not wait so long to talk again. Okay?”

“Good with me.”

“Oh, and don’t let Linc get away from you. He’s a good man.”

“Yes, he is, but I don’t know if—”

“He’s nothing like me,” her dad said. “Even if he did side with me fifteen years ago, it was only because he was afraid of losing you.”

67

Wednesday morning Linc used the crutches to maneuver around his kitchen. Occasionally, he tentatively tested his leg to see if the muscle was ready to bear weight yet. So far it wasn’t.

The coffee machine gurgled one last time, and he set the cup on the countertop. Rather than risk spilling the hot liquid, he drank it standing while he checked his phone. He’d gotten one message from Ainsley saying she’d see him later this afternoon and five messages from Sarah.

Yesterday Ainsley had called him midmorning to see if he needed anything and to let him know she would be tied up in virtual meetings with her supervisor in East Tennessee and the FBI. Then she would be filling out reports. Then nothing until this morning.

His front doorbell rang just as he got a text from Sarah.“At the front door with breakfast.”

He texted back.“Come aroundto the back.”

In less than a minute, she opened the door and waved a tan paper sack, spreading the aroma of bacon through the kitchen. “I know how much you like these,” Sarah said. “Let me take your coffee to the table.”

While he hopped to his chair, she divided the biscuits, twofor him and one for her, and then sat across from him. “Thanks for picking these up. You didn’t have to.”

“I knew if I didn’t, you’d just have cold cereal again.”

“You’re probably right.” The food was every bit as good as it smelled. “Not working today?” he asked, eyeing her tan-and-olive-green camo pants and an oversized T-shirt.

“No. Did you forget ...” Disappointment rang in her voice. “You did. It’s June sixteenth.”

It hit him. Blake died two years ago today. His appetite gone, he set what was left of the second biscuit on the table. “I’m sorry ... there’s just been so much going on.”

“We are still going on the picnic, right? I have a basket all packed.” A note of panic raised her voice. “I really need to get away from everything for a few hours.”

The truth was, Linc didn’t feel up to going, but it had been his idea in the first place. What could a few hours hurt, especially after she’d helped him yesterday and today. He palmed his hands. “Sure.”

She rewarded him with a brilliant smile. “Thank you. I just don’t think I can do today by myself.”

“How about your dad? Isn’t he going?”

“I don’t think he feels up to it,” she said.

“I’d like to stop by and see how he is.” Maybe he could persuade Mr. Tolliver to go with them. The picture of just the two of them in a cozy picnic setting was not the message he wanted to send Sarah.

“Okay, but don’t forget your swimsuit.”

He stared at her. “I have a gunshot wound to my leg, Sarah.”

She looked stricken. “Of course, you can’t get in the water. I don’t know what I’m thinking. More proof I just need to get away for a few hours. If you’re ready, we’ll go.”

“Now?”

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