Eleven

San Francisco, California
That morning

Sabrina didn’t want to get out of bed. In fact, she seriously considered calling in sick and staying there all day. She played with the thought for a few minutes, imagined letting the day waste away. As tempting as it sounded, she knew herself well enough to be certain that she’d be climbing the walls by noon. Beside, today was her first day back on Homicide. Mathews would love it if she didn’t show.

She reached over and gave the body next to her a poke. “If I’m getting up, so are you,” she said, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. Standing, she made her way to the bathroom. She looked over her shoulder. The covers were still pulled up tight. “You better be up by the time I’m ready to go or your ass is getting left here,” she said before disappearing into the bathroom.

She came out fifteen minutes later to find Avasa, her two-year-old Rhodesian Ridgeback, waiting for her outside the door. She smiled. “Thought so,” she said, giving the dog’s floppy ears a ruffle. She dressed quickly and grabbed her shoes, sitting down to put them on. “Let’s get out of here before—”

The baby monitor next to the clock came to life. Avasa whined.

“Relax. It’ll just take a few minutes.” She headed for the door, not at all surprised when the dog hopped back on the bed and burrowed her way under the covers.

Sabrina made her way downstairs, taking the hall as quietly as she could. Pushing her way into the nursery, she couldn’t help but smile. She always smiled when she saw her. The baby was on her back, rolling from side to side, happily trying to eat her own toes. Sabrina leaned over the side of the crib, and the baby broke into a wide happy grin at the sight of the face that hovered above her. Reaching down, Sabrina lifted the sleep-warmed bundle from her crib, giving her a slight bounce. She was rewarded with a giggle. The sound was her new favorite.

The baby leaned away from her chest and gazed up at her with eyes that were the tawny brown of a good shooting whiskey. Her smile crinkled them at the corners, and for a moment she looked just like her daddy.

“Hey, thought you’d be gone by now,” he said from the doorway, and Sabrina turned to see Devon Nickels, light brown hair rumpled from sleep, flannel pajama pants slung low on narrow hips, his broad chest bare except for the burp cloth tossed over his shoulder. He had a bottle in one hand and a picture book in the other, Goodnight Moon.

“Late start. Go back to bed, I’ve got her,” she said, reaching for the bottle, reluctant to hand the baby over. Nickels laughed and shook his head, pulling the baby out of her arms.

“No, you go back to bed. It’s my turn,” he said with a grin, making shooing motions with the book. The baby’s smile widened even more at the sight of her daddy, and she clapped chubby fingers against his cheek so he’d look at her and smile back. “Good morning, beautiful girl,” he whispered, dropping a soft kiss on her cheek before turning toward Sabrina, who lingered nearby. “Out,” he said and laughed when she heaved a sigh and stomped across the room.

Turning in the doorway, she watched father and daughter settle into the rocker next to the crib. He handed her the bottle and she popped it into her mouth. He fit her into the crook of his arm before cracking the book to read its pages, his soft low voice reaching out to her, soothing her.

“Going for a run?” he said in the same voice he used to read to his daughter.

“Yeah. Want me to wait?” She liked his company when she ran, preferring it to being alone these days.

“Can’t today. Got SWAT re-cert at eight o’clock.” He looked up at her and smiled.

She gave a low whistle. “Lucky you.”

He chuckled softly. “Quit playin’—it’s just you and me here, so you can admit it. We both know you’re gonna miss it.”

He was right. She was going to miss it, but she shrugged that off. After spending fifteen months loaned out to SWAT, she’d finally been able to make her way back to Homicide. Her time away had proved to her that Homicide was where she belonged, Mathews be damned. Besides, SWAT was out of the question for her now. One cowboy in the family was enough.

She smiled. “Want me to take over so you can get ready?” she said hopefully, and he laughed.

“No, I want you to stop hovering.”

“Hey, I don’t hover.”

“You do. You’re a hoverer,” he said. “But I forgive you. Actually, I think it’s kinda cute.”

“Cute?” She scoffed and pushed away from the door. “Now you’re just being mean.”

“Sabrina.”

She looked back to see his face had gone serious. “Hmm?”

“Take the dog.”

“Like she’d let me leave without her.”

“And your backup piece.”

“And I’m the hoverer?” she said and rolled her eyes. “Hello pot, meet kettle.”

“I’m just—” He looked down at the baby zoning out in his arms, her lips slack around the bottle in her mouth, soft black curls framing her face. He looked back up at her but didn’t finish what he was going to say. Didn’t have to. He worried about her. They all did—Val, the twins, Strickland. Their worry was like the aftershocks of an earthquake, rippling out to touch her when she least expected it, tipping her off balance. Shaking her with its reminder of everything that had happened over the past two years. Wade. David.

They worried because they loved her. Because, as her family, it was their job.

“Okay, okay,” she said with a nod and lifted her pant leg to show him the .380 LCP strapped to her ankle. “Never leave home without it.”

“Thank you.” Nickels pulled the bottle from the baby’s mouth and placed her gently on his shoulder. He began to rub and pat her back. “You know, if you want to skip the run altogether and make me pancakes, I wouldn’t mind in the slightest.”

She laughed. “That’s what I love about you, Nick—forever the optimist,” she said before turning to make her way back to her room.

By the time she tied her shoes and tossed her hair into a ponytail, Avasa was up and waiting at the door, ready to go.

They ran the trail. Her feet pounded down the dirt, even and steady despite the twinge that shot through her thigh every time her foot made contact with the ground. It would always hurt. Would always remind her of what had happened to her, how close she’d come to dying. That it had been her half-brother who’d been the one to hurt her. The tight, puckered flesh that marred her leg had finally healed. She’d finally let it. She’d battled her way through rehab—and this time she hadn’t stopped until it was done.

These days the agonizing pain had faded to nothing more than a dull ache. But she welcomed the discomfort—relished it in a strange way. The pain in her thigh reminded her that she’d made it through. It was the fact that she still suffered, just a little, that proved to her it was real.

She’d survived.

Without even thinking, her feet and legs began to slow until she was walking along the trail. She was close. The dog, used to it by now, trotted the few remaining yards and sat in the dirt to wait.

Stopping, Sabrina faced the woods where she’d found a dead girl two years before. She stared into the trees. It was like staring into the face of a monster.

What’s wrong, Melissa … miss me?

Wade’s voice echoed in her head, little more than a whisper. He’d crept up on her over the past few days, growing louder and louder. Soon the faint murmur in her head would become a howling scream. She’d put it off too long, managed to fool herself into believing that this time Wade was gone for good.

Gone for good? Ain’t no such thing, darlin’ …

She’d have to go see Phillip later. It was the only way, the only thing she’d found that could quiet the voice in her head, but for now she did the only thing she could—she ignored him. Focused on the space between the trees where she’d found the girl. It was hard but she made herself do it. Instead of listening, she forced herself to remember the way the girl looked. The empty sockets where her eyes should’ve been. The lime-green polish on her toes. The red ribbon tied around her wrist. The word stabbed into her stomach.

R U N

You keep bringing us back to this place, darlin’. You even understand why?

He’d asked her that once, staring down at her, a sickening grin stretched across his ruined face. Yeah, she understood why. She felt the calm steady beat of her heart. Reminded herself that not only had she survived, she’d won.

Are you sure about that, darlin’?

Her cell let out a chirp, and she plucked it off her hip.

“Vaughn.”

“Hey, Little Miss Sunshine, I hear you’re my new partner.” It was Christopher Strickland. Hearing his voice made her smile. Made it easier to push Wade’s relentless whisper from her mind.

“That’s what they told me,” she said, her smile turning to a full-fledged grin. Yeah, she’d miss SWAT, but this is where she belonged.

He laughed. “Well then, you better get your ass in gear—we caught a case.”

She turned away from the clearing and snapped her fingers. Avasa’s ears picked up and she trotted over to where Sabrina stood, looking up at her expectantly. “Text me the address. I’ll meet you there in an hour,” she said before closing her phone and heading for home, her dog at her side.