TWO
Emma
It took me a good five minutes to realize I was still holding the kitchen sponge, my hands dripping water onto the counter, and Daniel was staring at me. I pressed the sponge down, wiped a final streak off the counter like that would solve anything, and took a second to pull myself back into the present.
“Come on,” Daniel said, voice pitched low, more of a rumble than a sound. “You need a second to breathe.”
I did. Or at least, my armpits did, and possibly everywhere else currently marinating in stress and stale adrenaline. “Fine,” I managed, and let him shepherd me into the hallway.
The stairs creaked under our weight. One of us really needed to put oil on those someday, and by one of us, I meant me, since Henry would rather reprogram the thermostat to play the Zelda theme every time I raised the temperature.
Upstairs, the air changed. My room was still a disaster. Rumpled sheets, the comforter in a pile on the floor, and three different pairs of shoes tossed around. I pawed through my dresser for yoga pants and something clean, and Daniel disappeared intothe bathroom, where the pipes began their usual protest under the shower’s demand for hot water. I flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling fan, waiting for my turn in the shower, hoping it would clear my head.
By the time I emerged from the shower half an hour later, I was a little less of a dumpster fire and a little more “woman who could pass for functional on a Zoom call.” Daniel had cleaned up and chosen a blue flannel shirt I loved. The one that made his eyes even greener. He sat on the edge of the bed, towel-drying his hair.
“Better?” he asked, eyes crinkling in concern.
I shrugged. I meant to say something light, but it came out wrong. “I’m not sure there’s enough soap in the world, but I smell less like lasagna.”
He smirked. The real, warm version, not the one he faked for polite society. “You always smell good.”
“That’s because you’re used to the smell of bear fur,” I said, trying not to smile and almost succeeding. “And if I ever smell like Henry’s old socks, just shoot me.”
“Deal.” He set the towel aside and patted the bed next to him. “Sit. You look like you need cuddles.”
No, what I needed to do was help find Alice, but I let myself drop next to him, legs sticking out, hair still damp. He didn’t say anything for a long minute, just took my hand and rubbed it.
“You think we’ll actually find her?” I asked, staring at the wall because looking at Daniel’s face would make it too real. “I mean, you think retracing her steps is going to get us somewhere or are we just—” I mimed a circular motion. “Running laps in a maze?”
He shrugged. “People don’t just disappear,” he said. “Not unless there’s a damn good reason. Somebody takes them, or they run because somebody’s chasing. Either way, what she did right before she vanished. That’s the thread we need to pull.”
He sounded so sure. It was almost enough to trick my brain into believing it, too.
“I just don’t want to let Henry down,” I whispered.
“You’re not going to.” Daniel grabbed my shoulder and squeezed, then smoothed down my arm, rough calluses catching on bare skin. “If Alice left for a reason, that reason’s out there. Somewhere. And we’re going to find it before anyone else. And if someone took her, well, those clues are out there too.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss onto my shoulder.
I shifted until our elbows touched, then looked over. “What are you going to do after this? I mean, after you’re done babysitting us.”
Daniel snorted. “I’m going to head down to the station, see if I can get eyes on any more security footage. Stores, traffic cams, whatever’s watching the stretch between here and the next county. If anyone so much as blinks in Alice’s direction, I’ll see it.”
That wasn’t nothing. I tried to think of the right thing to say to thank him, but words all turned to syrup behind my teeth.
So instead, I blurted, “You’re the best ex-sheriff slash bear shifter slash armchair detective I could’ve asked for.”
He ran one big hand down his face. “Don’t let the current sheriff hear you call me that.”
“Sure,” I said. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
He squeezed my hand once more, then kissed my cheek and then we both jumped nearly a foot as the doorbell went off downstairs. The moment shattered.
“I’m going to scream,” I announced.
He was already on his feet. “After you.”
Getting dressed took about four seconds. My jeans still had a paint stain from an art project last year, but at least I’d grabbed a shirt without a stain on it. Daniel looked equally unbothered by his slightly rumpled clothes. We hustled back down the stairs.
