Page 77 of Knox

Kelsey walked over to the clothes. Picked up the shirt. Orange, with black lettering over the pocket—PEAK—with a tiny mountain logo over the top.

“Ben has a huge collection of them. Apparently, it’s part of some fundraiser they’re having for a local SAR team.”

“Ben? You’re on a nickname basis now??”

Glo grinned, heading for the door. “I know he’s famous, but he’s super nice. And his daughter is pretty talented. She’s been playing me a few of her songs. There’s actually a slew of people here, making breakfast, hanging out. It’s like a reality TV show.” She stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

Kelsey changed clothes, pulled her hair up, and washed her face. At least she didn’t have makeup stains down her cheeks.

By not letting him beat you.

Maybe he already had. Maybe she went down years ago.

She followed the sound of voices and padded down the hallway, past a workout room, and into a soaring great room with a giant picture window that overlooked the magnificent view of the mountains she’d seen from her room. A deck with Adirondack chairs extended from the window.

A long chandelier dangled from the ceiling, and under it, two leather sofas faced each other, flanking a tall stone fireplace.

“Hey, Kelsey,” said a male voice, and she turned to see Ben walking toward her, holding coffee. “How are you feeling this morning?”

So many answers, none of them the right one, so she opted for, “Better. Thank you.”

He smiled, and she could see why he’d won Entertainer of the Year. He was quite possibly even more handsome in his regular clothing, jeans, a T-shirt, with that dark brown hair all morning-tousled, those sculpted shoulders. She’d bet he worked out with the hanging bag in the workout room. A smile quirked up one side of his face, like Aw, shucks, we’re all friends here.

Indeed, it looked like Glo had settled in, sitting on a high-top stool, now pouring syrup on a stack of pancakes.

A petite woman with short black hair came out of the kitchen holding a tray of blueberry muffins and set it on the dining room table in the corner of the room. Maybe Ben’s cook. But she picked one up and handed it to a man dressed in a uniform, probably Sam, here to interview Kelsey. He was talking to an older gentleman with short graying hair, who sort of reminded her of Harrison Ford with his quirky facial expressions.

“Let me introduce you to Sam Brooks. He needs your statement about last night,” Ben said. “I’m sorry my wife isn’t here right now. She’s a chopper pilot for the PEAK team—” He gestured to his shirt. “She got called out this morning to help with a hospital transport.”

Kelsey followed him and got a good look at Sam when he turned and held out his hand to her. The most riveting blue eyes she’d ever seen, brown hair, a look on his face that suggested if anyone could get to the bottom of last night’s attack, it would be him.

“Glad to meet you, Kelsey,” Sam said.

“And this is my father, Chet King,” Ben said.

Chet’s hand enveloped hers, worn, warm, and solid. “Sorry about last night.”

“By the way, we’re doing a little clothing drive for you two, just within the PEAK team, so if you want to give me your sizes…” This from the petite cook who had added a bowl of fruit—strawberries and blueberries—to the table.

“This is Sierra. She’s the PEAK team administrator. And sometimes she feeds us out of the goodness of her heart,” Ben said. He reached over and grabbed a strawberry from the bowl.

Kelsey’s stomach awakened, began to stir.

“We’re trying to figure out how the bus blew,” Sam said. “We’ve called in some arson specialists, but we need some help.” He directed her over to the sofa and started with background information, how they’d gotten the gig—to which Ben filled in the gaps.

“I called Carter to check on the Belles. They were pretty shaken up after the bombing in Texas, and Kelsey lost her voice—”

“You were in the San Antonio bombing?” Sam asked. He’d put his phone on the table to record their conversation.

“Yeah,” Kelsey said. “And uh, yeah. We were pretty shaken up. Our bodyguard suggested we hang out at his ranch—the Marshall Triple M— for a few days. But then Carter called and said Ben had invited us to sing at the Gray Pony.”

“And you brought the house down, by the way,” Ben said.

“Before we blew up the parking lot,” Glo added, turning in her chair.

Kelsey frowned at Glo’s attempt at humor.

“Too soon?” Glo said, and Kelsey nodded.

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