Page 25 of Halloween in Sleepy Hollow
We’re all glad Randy’s nose was broken. Truthfully, the small, vindictive part of me wishes Oliver had done more.
He couldn’t have. Not as a Sleepy Hollow police officer sworn to uphold the law.
But if Randy just happened to run into Oliver’s fist? I can’t say I’m sorry about it.
If not for the whole kidnapping and ritual part of it, I’d almost feel sorry for Randy. To be desperate enough to turn to a ritual tucked away in a hundred-year-old book no one’s read in years…
“I almost got rid of it,” Thea told us once we arrived at the police station. “When I was going through the collection last spring, it was on my list to pull from the shelves. No one had checked it out in over ten years, after all. But with it being local history, I decided to keep it.”
With a regretful glance at Ari and me, she added, “I’m sorry. If I had only…”
But it wasn’t her fault. Not in the least. If Randy hadn’t found the strange ritual in that book—Secrets and Spells of Sleepy Hollow—I’m sure he would have found something equally crazy in another.
“No,” Ari assured her. “Don’t even think that. If it was anyone’s fault, it was mine.I’mthe one who suggested going to the library.”
“But if you hadn’t,” I reminded her, “we wouldn’t have run into Emily. And Randy would have gone through with his ritual.”
When I think about it that way, I’m almost glad I was kidnapped.
Almost.
“We should be cleared to leave soon.” Oliver sinks into the plastic chair beside me and takes my hand in his. His thumb strokes across my palm, the gentle movement soothing my rattled nerves. Lines of worry crease his forehead as he studies my face. “Are you holding up okay, Shea? Do you need anything?”
I lace my fingers between his. “I’m okay. Just a little tired, that’s all.”
He frowns. “I’m sorry. I wish I could have made this go faster. But there being so many people to interview…”
“I get it.” Edging closer to Oliver, I rest my head on his shoulder. As weariness sweeps through me, I stifle a yawn. “I wasn’t expecting it to be quick. And with you working here, especially.”
Oliver’s lips come to the top of my head, resting there for a moment. “I’m not on the case,” he says. “Not officially. Since you were one of the victims—” He grimaces. “It would be a conflict of interest.”
He’s still feeling guilty. I can tell. It’s in the slump of his shoulders and the lines bracketing his downturned mouth. It’s in his shadowed gaze and how he looks pained whenever he’s forced to leave me, whether it’s when I went into the interrogation room—It’s an interview, Mike Troy emphasized as soon as I sat down,not an interrogation, since you didn’t do anything wrong—or Oliver had to meet with his fellow officers.
Oliver has nothing to feel guilty about, of course. But good luck convincinghimof that.
I have a feeling my already-overprotective husband will be operating in uber protector mode for the next few months, at least. He’s already mentioned increasing the security at our houseagainand switching out my earrings for a tracker that can be implanted subcutaneously.
A tracker under my skin? Part of me feels a little weirded out by the idea.
Then again, I wouldn’t have to worry about losing the earrings. Or remembering to wear them.
“I was thinking,” Oliver muses as he looks around the police station waiting room, “about looking into some other tracking methods. Something that has a more reliable signal. My buddy, Archer, might have an idea. The SAG is always getting early access to new intelligence technologies.”
“Maybe we can talk about it later,” I suggest gently. “Once everything has settled down.”
Oliver’s arm tightens around me. “Shit. Sorry, love. Of course you don’t want to talk about that right now. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I lift my head to kiss his jaw, feeling the soft brush of his stubble against my lips. “You were thinking that you were worried. And that—” My voice dips. “You were scared.”
He turns to me, the truth of my statement evident in his gaze. He frames my face and kisses me tenderly. “I was.” His staid police officer demeanor falls away,revealing the sensitive and vulnerable part he only lets me see. “I was really scared, Shea. I don’t think my heart could take going through that again.”
It’s hard to snuggle closer, given the unforgiving plastic seats we’re sitting in. But I do my best, twining my arm around Oliver’s back and pressing my thigh flush against his. “You weren’t the only one who was scared,” I tell him. Angling my chin at Cash and Ari, who are squished together in two seats with Winnie fast asleep on Cash’s lap, I add, “Cash was scared. So was Ben.”
Oliver looks at the two couples for a few seconds. A thoughtful expression moves across his face. “Yeah. They were. And I felt really bad for them. Having to make the choice between staying with their kids or going out to look for their wives…”
“That must have been hard. But they knew Elias and Winnie were safe. So they had that, at least.”
We both look over at Ben and Thea again, and my lips curve up of their own volition. Ben has his arm around Thea, and she’s holding a sleeping Elias on her lap. Laila is right beside them, clutching Thea’s hand and looking much younger than her twelve years.
