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“They know something.” His words were clipped, his grip a little too tight on the steering wheel.

“She doesn’t,” Easton corrected. “But he does.”

Jackson’s gaze flitted over to his brother and back to the road. “How could you possibly know that?”

“I read people. You heard her say she never liked Gish. She helped him because her husband wanted her to. She’s devoted to Garth, and he’s protecting her from whatever’s going on. That’s why I want to talk to him when she’s not around.”

Jackson shook his head. “How are you going to do that? You saw him. The stroke left him unable to do much for himself, including speak. He relies completely on her. No way she leaves him alone.”

Easton reached into his back pocket and withdrew a white business card. “Actually, she does. This card was on one of the side tables. When she was busy looking at Garth, I lifted it. It’s an appointment with someone from sitter dot com. It’s a website where people can sign up to offer respite care to give caregivers a break from their patients. And they have a sitter coming to stay with Garth tomorrow from 2-4.”

“What if the sitter is just to watch him while she does yard work or something? I can’t see Deb leaving him for any amount of time.”

“Trust me. That’s the window. Look, you can head back to Fire Creek, and I can stay behind and talk to Garth myself.”

“How do you plan to talk to him when all he’s capable of is making noise?”

Easton shrugged. “I’ll figure it out.”

The brothers fell silent as they drove back to the cabin, each lost in his own thoughts. Jackson hated to admit he had wanted to return to the cabin with good news for Reagan. With her world falling apart around her, she could use some good news. They all could.

Chapter Sixteen

By the time Jackson made it back to the cabin, all was dark and quiet. He pulled his truck around to the back, his headlights illuminating Luke making a perimeter sweep. Switching the engine off, he climbed from the truck. His joints protested having to move after the long drive, and he felt older than his thirty-nine years.

He’d already checked in with Luke, so his brother had no need to ask him questions or share intel. The hour was too late for either of them to dwell on the fact they had nothing.

“You look like hell.” Luke stopped in front of him.

“It’s dark, asshole. How do you know what I look like?”

“Trust me. You look like hell. Ben and I are splitting the night shift. Go, get some sleep. Ben’s in the main bedroom now. Reagan gave her room to her parents, so she’s bunking down in one of the others.”

Jackson nodded. “You hear from Becky? I tried to call and got her voicemail.”

“Yeah. There’s been no change. And her protection detail says there’s been no more gunfire or anything suspicious at the hospital since we left. Everything’s been quiet here too. It makes me nervous.”

Jackson understood what Luke meant. Anytime things got quiet and fell into a lull while they were on a case, it usually indicated a calm before a big shitstorm.

“I can’t think about it, man. We’re missing something, but I have a splitting headache trying to figure out what it is.”

“It’ll keep for now. Sleep. We’ll regroup when you get up.”

Jackson didn’t argue. He trudged inside and made his way through the cabin without switching on a light. Guessing Reagan slept in the room next to the one her parents were in, he stepped into one at the end of the hall, the only other bedroom with an adjoining bathroom besides the master bedroom. The temptation of a shower gave him pause, but exhaustion won out. He tossed his clothes into a pile on the floor before climbing under the covers of the king bed. He expected sleep to elude him, but his eyes fluttered closed as soon as his head hit the pillow. His sleep was deep, which was dangerous for someone in his line of work. But with his brothers on watch, he didn’t have to worry with waking at a moment’s notice.

The dream lured him into a haze that felt cozy and…right. When arms wrapped around him, he didn’t resist. Before the body pressed against him, he knew it was a woman. A soft, warm woman wearing nothing. His hands roamed her body. His fingertips trailed over her smooth skin, her scent tantalizing his nose. His lips followed where his fingers touched — the curve of her shoulder, the slope of her collarbone, the swell of her breast, the valley of her cleavage, and back again because he couldn’t get enough. She pushed against him, urging him to continue tantalizing her, and he was happy to oblige.

Eventually his lips found hers. The plump flesh opened greedily to him, and he plunged his tongue deep inside to tangle with hers. The kiss wasn’t gentle or sweet. It was urgent and passionate. It was two people who couldn’t get close enough to relieve the longing building between them.

Fingernails pressed into his back. Quick, sharp pain mingled with the white-hot desire. He pulled back to draw air into his lungs and felt himself being pulled from his subconscious. She started to squirm in his arms, and he could feel her slipping away from him into the haze. He tried to tighten his grip, but she was gone. He floated away until his eyes started to flutter open. His vision adjusted to the dark…

Jackson shot up in bed as he felt the covers slip away. Reagan scrambled to wrap them around her, not noticing she was baring Jackson’s body in the process.

“What the hell!”

He never knew someone could yell in such a low tone. “Why are you whispering?”

She glared at him, but with the way her eyes bugged out of her head, he knew the moment she realized he was naked. She turned away, dragging the covers with her, and dropped her feet to the floor.