Page 88 of Reading Between the Lines
“D?”
He held out a hand, urging me forward. His laughter waned, and the full effect of his injury dug creases into his brow. I sat on the bed beside him, evaluating his state of being.
“How are you feeling?”
With a pinch of agony marring his features, he moved the arm in question up and down, rotating the joint as he hissed air between his teeth. “Hurts like hell, but it’s not broken, so that’s something.”
“It could be cracked.”
“Same difference, and it’s not. It’s mobile. I’ve broken enough bones to know how it feels.” He lifted his head and scanned the bedside table. “Are there any more painkillers?”
I handed him the bottle, but when he fumbled, trying to get the lid off, I helped. He took four pills, which seemed like a lot until I considered his size.
“Whiskey?”
“D…” But I swallowed the argument and handed him the bottle. “Go easy. We need to chat.”
He took only enough to get the meds down, then lay back on the pillow. I found my glasses and sat beside him, stroking my fingers through the short amount of dark hair he’d recently grown.
“The rope was gone,” I said when he seemed more relaxed.
“What are you talking about? What rope?”
“From the tree. I made a report. Last night. The police went out to the scene to investigate. The rope was gone. Other than the branch being partially cut, there was no evidence someone purposefully set a trap for us.”
“The branch being cut isn’t enough?”
“That’s what I said. I guess the town paid a company this past fall to trim dead branches from the trees out in that area and along the trail, so the officer—”
“He thought one branch got partially cut and left behind?”
“Yep.”
“Bull-fucking-shit. There was a goddamn rope, and that cut was recent. Was he a fucking moron?”
“He claims he was tossing theories around.”
“Well, they’re shitass theories. They ought to take his fucking badge for that. Lazy fucking cops. I’m guessing they aren’t looking into it further?”
I shrugged. “Didn’t sound promising. I wish I’d taken pictures. I can’t believe I didn’t.”
Diem heaved a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. “It was chaotic. Not your fault. What about the Jeep?”
“I had it towed to a local garage. It’s going to be a couple days at least.”
“Did you call Delaney?”
“You told me not to, but…”
“I know.” He grumbled something indecipherable, deep marks of pain all over his face.
Nothing seemed to help. The pills. The alcohol. Ice packs. Sleep. I wanted to take charge and drag him to a hospital, but I knew the kind of battle that would cause. Better yet, I should have taken the lead with the investigation since Diem was compromised, but I didn’t know where to go from there. My forty hours of online training hadn’t taught me much with regard to particulars.
“Tell me what to do, D. What’s next? Are we quitting?”
“Fuck that. We’re on the right track. Someone is afraid.”
“And trying to kill us.”
