Page 56 of Flynn

Cassidy didn’t say anything for a long minute, making Taylor fear she’d overstepped. She was about to say never mind when Cassidy answered. “I think Flynn has been hurt before, so he’s probably guarding his heart.” Cassidy swept the chopped broccoli together and dropped them into the frying pan. “You should ask Flynn about that, though.”

“Of course. I didn’t mean to pry.” Okay, maybe she had meant to find out more about Flynn, but she didn’t want Cassidy to feel as if she were breaking his confidence. She changed the subject. “That smells delicious.”

“It’s nothing fancy.” Cassidy said, adding the chopped cauliflower to the mix. From there she began tossing other ingredients into the pan. Pea pods, water chestnuts, and spices like ginger and soy sauce.

Taylor finished with the veggies, then cleaned off the cutting board. Cassidy added the shrimp last, then began to stir.

Leaving Cassidy to finish dinner, she moved to the closest window to check on Flynn. The only thing she saw were his footprints in the thin layer of snow.

Ten minutes later, he returned, stomping his feet to shake the snow loose and shrugging out of his coat. “Smells great.”

“You’re just in time. Dinner is ready,” Cassidy announced.

“See anything unusual?” Taylor asked as Cassidy set the table.

“Nope. So far, so good.” Flynn rubbed his hands together to warm them up. “Should have gotten gloves and a hat too.”

“Let’s eat.” Cassidy waved a hand to the table. “Flynn, you can say grace.”

It felt strange to sit down to a home-cooked meal. Once they’d all taken their seats, Flynn bowed his head. “Dear Lord, we thank You for this food and for the many ways You have kept us safe in Your care. Amen.”

“Amen,” she and Cassidy echoed.

“Dig in.” Flynn reached for the bowl of rice with enthusiasm, making her wonder if he’d ever even tried to cook a meal for himself. Based on the plethora of fast-food wrappers in his car, she suspected not.

They ate in silence for several minutes. Flynn appeared lost in thought again, no doubt dwelling on the case. Then he glanced at her. “You and Cassidy pick which rooms you want to use. I plan on sleeping on the couch.”

“That’s fine.” Just mentioning sleep made her yawn. Her brain was wired, but her body craved slumber.

When they finished eating, Flynn insisted on cleaning up. She and Cassidy picked their rooms, with Cassidy insisting she take the main bedroom. When she returned to the living room, she’d noticed Flynn was stretched out on the sofa with pillows and blankets he’d found in a closet somewhere and had fallen asleep.

She watched him for a moment, then turned to shut off the lights. She double-checked the door was locked, then went to bed.

But sleep didn’t come easily, despite her fatigue.

Her thoughts whirled around Steve and Robin Miller, their son Max, and her cousin Roman. So much death and destruction over simple greed.

And when she finally drifted off an image flashed in her mind—dollar bills floating down onto their dead bodies like snowflakes falling from the sky.

Flynn sleptlike a rock for five hours before sitting upright with a jolt. He reached for his gun, glancing around to see what had awoken him.

Then he realized a log had fallen in the fire. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he rose and stretched, feeling better than he had before he’d gotten some sleep. He made the rounds, moving from one window to the next with no additional light other than that from the fire.

The snow was a blessing, as a layer of fresh powder covered everything in sight. The ground outside appeared undisturbed, and he could just barely make out the slight indents from his earlier footprints.

For the first time in what seemed like eons, he felt they were safe. Using Doug Bridge’s sister’s name to secure the rental seemed to have done the trick.

He crossed over to add more wood to the fire, then sank back down on the sofa. After setting his weapon aside, he scrubbed his hands over his face, wishing he could talk with Rhy about the recent information Gabe had provided. And to have his boss check in with Detectives Klem and Irving to see what if anything they’d uncovered.

There was likely a BOLO out on Lyle and Jake Paulson. He hoped the two men would be found alive and not murdered like their older brother.

If this was about laundering dirty money, then why had the brothers’ apartment been ransacked? What could the shooter have been searching for?

Maybe it was as simple as needing personal information on Taylor. So the gunman could find and silence her forever.

The hour was three in the morning, twenty-four hours since he’d rushed to the Miller residence to find Taylor. Twenty-four measly hours, and there had been so many attempts against her that he’d lost count.

He rose and paced, trying to come at the case from other angles. Money laundering was most often the result of illegal activities. Cash from selling drugs, gambling, and the like. But what had caused the guy in charge to have Steve and Robin murdered?

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