in a breath. “Great. As soon as I recover and do a little investigating, I’ll be in touch.”
“You’d better be.”
“Bye.”
“Oh, Ashworth.”
“Yes?”
He cleared his throat. “Good job on saving the kid.”
“Thanks, Charles.”
“And keep in mind, there are major storm and tornado watches going on in your area. I know tornados in the mountains are rare, but not unheard of. Keep up with the weather.”
“Will do.”
She hung up the phone and set it back on the table.
Her brain whirled. Where to start? She looked around the room. A small bouquet of flowers sat near the sink.
She had just now noticed them. A smile curved her lips. No doubt they were from Dylan and Will. Then she frowned. She didn’t need to be having any warm, fuzzy feelings for the brother of the woman she was here to look into.
A knock on the door made her jump. By reflex, her hand went for the weapon she normally carried in her shoulder holster. Only to come up empty.
Right. She hadn’t wanted to carry the gun into the school, so she’d left it locked in her gun box in the drawer of her nightstand. But she didn’t have any enemies here. She was simply a guidance counselor.
“Come in.”
The door opened once again and a man Paige knew to be her new boss stepped in. The principal of Rose Mountain Elementary.
She offered him a weak smile. “Hello, Dr. Bridges.” She’d met him briefly at the district office on the day of her interview two weeks ago. Only the superintendent of the school district, whose cooperation had been needed to secure Paige’s position at the school as the new guidance counselor, knew the real reason she was in Rose Mountain.
“Please. Call me Tom. How are you feeling?”
“Like I cracked my head open.”
He gave a laugh and, for the next few minutes, they continued the small talk. Then Tom asked, “Is there anyone I can call for you? A man named Charles answered the emergency number you listed on the application. Said he was your brother.”
“Right. Thank you for contacting him.” They’d agreed Charles would play the role of her brother if he ever needed to come see her during one of her undercover operations. Or if there was ever an emergency. Like this morning.
“Yes. He said to let him know if your condition worsened and he’d come.”
Charles had been giving her time to call him and let him know whether she needed help or not. “I appreciate you doing that.”
He stood. “Well, you take your time getting well. We’ll see you when the doctor says you can come to work.”
“Thank you.”
After he left, she closed her eyes. In her mind, she pictured the agent who’d been killed in the fire with his informant—and girlfriend. Paige frowned at that. She wasn’t sure she agreed with Larry’s choice, but he’d been struck by the woman the moment he’d met her in the teacher’s lounge of the high school.
The feeling had been mutual and Sandra Lee Price, Dylan’s sister, had agreed to help the DEA put away as many people as possible that were involved in the drug ring that was suspected to be originating out of Rose Mountain.
And now she was dead, along with Larry, an excellent agent and Paige’s good friend. She bit her lip to stem the tears.
Paige glanced at the door where Dylan and Will had disappeared a little while ago.
It was Paige’s job to find out exactly how much Dylan knew about his sister’s death. And if he was involved in any way.
THREE
Dylan dropped Will off at school—this time walking him all the way to his classroom door—and headed for the hospital. He’d had a restless sleep the night before, and it was all thanks to the pretty blonde woman on the fifth floor saving Will’s life over and over in his dreams. Her twisted bike waited in his garage.
Climbing out of his car, he loped to the front door and made his way upstairs.
The two ladies and one male nurse at the nurses’ station waved as he passed. Walking down the hall, he slowed when he spied someone hanging around Paige’s door. A relative? A friend?
A significant other?
Dylan was unsure whether to keep going or come back another time.
The guy hesitated, placed his hand on the doorknob, then pulled it back as though undecided whether he should enter the room or not. Dylan tried to get a look at his face, but the baseball cap shielded his features as he looked left, then right.
A funny feeling twisted inside Dylan. “Hey, can I help you?”
The man froze, ducked his head and started walking toward the exit. “No thanks, wrong room.”
Dylan watched him push open the door to the stairs and disappear.
His suspicions increased. Something about the guy made alarm bells go off. He walked quickly to the end of the hall and looked into the stairwell. No one was visible.
Shaking his head and telling himself the man may very well have had the wrong room, Dylan decided not to make a big deal out of it. Although, he had to admit, his instincts continued to shout that something wasn’t right.
Arriving at Paige’s door, he pushed away the uneasy feeling, took a deep breath and wiped his damp palms down the sides of his khaki slacks.
Why was he so nervous?
Because he was attracted to Paige. He wanted her to like him. For the first time since his fiancée’s desertion, he cared what a woman thought.
And he desperately wanted to keep her around to see her with Will again. She just might be the key to unlocking the boy’s self-imposed silence. A mixture of self-disgust and humor at his befuddled state of mind nearly had him laughing. But he sobered up and knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
He entered to find Paige pulling a brush through her hair as gently as possible. The bandage that had been on the back of her head yesterday was gone. He gulped at the zing of attraction that rippled through him. He hadn’t just imagined her beauty. “At least they didn’t have to shave it.”
She gave a chuckle. “No. I think they were more worried about the effects of the bump than the small cut.”
He frowned. “What are you doing up?”
“I’m going home.” She wrinkled her nose. “And before you ask, yes, I feel up to it. I feel much better today than I did yesterday, that’s for sure. No dizziness, still a slight headache, but no blurred vision. The doctor said to take it easy for a few days. I’m not at a hundred percent yet, but—” she shrugged “—I’m getting there.” Changing the subject, she asked, “Where’s your sidekick?”
Dylan smiled. “He’s at school”
“No lasting side effects for him?”
“No. Not this time,” he murmured.
She dropped her arm, the brush clutched in her right hand. “This time?”
Had he said that out loud?
“Will’s mother, Sandra, was killed in a fire almost two months ago. He has nightmares about it from time to time. Last night was peaceful. I checked on him off and on all night, and he slept pretty well.”
Concern clouded her pretty eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear about his mother. How awful. What happened?”
Dylan