Nowhere Safe by Nancy Bush Read Free Book Online Page A

prayed it would not, then she could always move out again. Still, she could feel that she was dragging her feet. She wanted to live with Jake. She really, really did. But she was suffering from a bad case of ennui. Was it because of her injury that she felt so tired and energy-less? Or, was this some kind of enervating dread that had infected her? Either way, whenever Jake talked about the upcoming move she wanted to lie down and put her arm over her eyes, classic ostrich behavior.
    Now, she shook herself back to reality. She’d placed a call to the number she had for the Ballonni household and had reached their voice mail and Mrs. Ballonni’s voice: You’ve reached Janet and Chris; leave a message after the beep. At first she’d thought Chris was Janet Ballonni’s husband and she’d never changed the message on her voice mail or she’d simply wanted to keep her husband alive in this way. But then she’d glanced at the file and realized the Ballonni’s son was named Christopher Jr. and figured the two names on the message were meant for Janet and her son.
    She left her name and the department’s number, just in case Mrs. Ballonni would need to verify her identity, then added her cell-phone number as an afterthought. George was on the phone at the same time September was and as she hung up, he suddenly slammed down his phone on an incoming call and barked out, “Woman’s body discovered at Foxglove Park. Who wants to go?”
    “I will,” Wes said.
    “I’ll go with you,” September said.
    “We’ll take the Rover,” Wes said, getting up from his chair.
    September had already eased herself to her feet. She could feel new and interesting tweaks and jabs inside that had nothing to do with the still healing knife wound. “Giddyup,” she said under her breath, smiling some more.
    As they headed out Gayle looked at them as they passed by her desk. Once outside, September said, “You’ve been messing with her.”
    “I just believe in Guy’s attention to protocol.”
    “Bullshit.”
    Wes grinned, his teeth a slash of white. “All right, I’ll leave the temp alone. Don’t want to wish Urlacher back too soon.” He hit the remote on his black Range Rover.
    “Foxglove,” Wes mused as they drove away from the station. “That’s some kind of poison, isn’t it?”
    “Maybe you’re thinking of hemlock.”
    “Nuh-uh.”
    As they drove to the park, which was about two miles west of the department on the outskirts of Laurelton and nearly to Winslow County, September’s cell phone rang. Caller ID showed her father, Braden Rafferty’s, cell number. He’d been calling her almost daily since she’d been stabbed, and she found it more annoying than helpful. They’d never been close and that gap had widened after her mother’s death and then his subsequent marriages to first Verna, then Rosamund. When she and her twin had opted to become cops, he’d basically disowned them and his relationship with Auggie was still very tenuous. Recently, there had been baby steps toward a reconciliation but it was still a long ways off.
    She debated on not answering, but it would only put off the inevitable. “Hey, there,” she answered.
    “Hi, September. I just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling.”
    “Better every day. I’m back at work.”
    “Already?”
    “Yes.” She heard how testy she sounded and changed the subject. “How are the renovations going?”
    “Coming along. Rosamund’s working with a decorator.”
    He sounded cautious, and September could well imagine why. The recent fire at the sprawling Bavarian-style house that was their family home, was the other reason her father kept phoning her. It had started in the garage and ruined Rosamund’s lime green kitchen, which no one was mourning, least of all Braden, apparently.
    “That’s good,” September told him. “Progress.”
    “Anything on the guy who did this?”
    “Not so far.”
    Though her father and Dashiell, her half brother,