Page 40 of Colton First Responder (Coltons of Mustang Valley)

Okay, enough of this. She had to go back inside and—

And what?

Survive. Think.

Maybe plan what she could, and would, do once she donned a disguise and left this place.

And determine what Grayson might approve. No, she didn’t need his approval, but she trusted him.

Could that turn into more?

Definitely not, especially when all of this was behind her and she could finally connect again with other people—in a friendly way.

But even then—well, at least for the moment, she hoped Grayson would remain in her life.

She sighed as she turned the corner again from one side to the front of the cabin. Time to go inside again. Get her mind off all of this—or at least try to.

Would she ever be able to?

Not likely until this was all worked out and her innocence was no longer in question.

And she could only hope that would occur very soon.

* * *

Grayson drove a longer route back to his office. Not that he thought anyone was following him, but since he kept coming into the area where the cabins were, he didn’t want to take any more chances of being noticed than necessary.

He checked often into his rearview mirror and saw nothing unusual.

Of course, taking a longer route also meant more streets within Mustang Valley, many of which were easily drivable now despite the quake just a couple of days ago. That also meant some additional views of tables and signs from that Affirmation Alliance Group. Oh, well. He didn’t stop to talk to anyone and didn’t see Micheline Anderson. Maybe she was out assisting more people today. He had done a little additional research on her group and noted that they had a reputation for doing all sorts of useful things, including helping out in other natural disasters besides earthquakes, even heat waves, handing out water and supplies and generally trying to make things at least a little better in whatever situation they found themselves.

Sounded quite good—and yet, especially now that he had met Micheline, he felt glad he didn’t need to deal with them—or her—again.

He parked his car as usual behind his office and walked around to the front door.

As he looked through the windows, he saw Norah sitting at the reception desk against the far wall. Not a surprise. Even though all his employees knew to act as greeters if anyone came in off the street, Norah seemed to like it best. She spent at least part of each day staffing that desk, unless she was off on an assignment as an EMT and not around to help.

They were getting busy enough now, and not just because of the earthquake, that Grayson was considering hiring a receptionist.

“Hi,” Grayson called after pushing open the front door and walking into the large room. “Anyone out on a job?” When he was around, he always had all assignments run by him. But in urgent situations, he never required that anyone wait for his approval when a job came in.

“Yep.” Norah leaned forward. Her light brown hair was pulled up in a bun on top of her head, and she wore a First Hand First Responders T-shirt in red today. “We got a call from the MV Fire Department about an accident on a nearby freeway, possibly caused by quake damage. A big rig and a couple of cars caught fire. There’s a bigger blaze downtown they’re working on, so they asked for Pedro’s help at the accident.” Like the Mustang Valley police, the local fire department knew how well Pedro could help them in a difficult situation.

“I hope no lives are lost,” Grayson said automatically, but meaning it. “Are Chad and Winch here?” He sat down in one of the blue chairs nearest the reception desk.

“No, they were called out, too—this time a sad follow-up from the earthquake. An eighteen-year-old kid is apparently still missing from one of those less affluent areas that had the worst damage. His parents think he probably fled into the desert since he was out on a hike by himself around when the quake hit. They’ve been looking for him and so have some of the official PD first responders, including one of their K-9 cops, but everyone’s getting worried and desperate and asked Chad and Winch to get involved.”

“I hope they find the kid,” Grayson said.

“Alive and okay,” added Norah, and Grayson nodded.

They talked a little longer about how things were going around here—and what Grayson had been up to. Only he didn’t tell even his probably most discreet and reliable employee the whole trut

h. “I’ve been in touch with the police to see how things stand in their investigation of the death of the truck driver I found.” That part, at least, was true. Maybe because the local media kept prodding the cops for answers about the missing passenger. “Not much new so far.”

“Do you think they’ll ask us to bring Chad and Winch in on that, too?”

“Could be.” Grayson didn’t want to talk about it anymore with Norah. She was too smart, too insightful. No way would he encourage her to find out what was really going on with Savannah. “Anyway, I’ve got a few things I need to take care of, so I’ll see you later.”

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