Rage pulses in my temples. “Respect? She was poisoned, stabbed, and left for dead. What part of that says respect to you?”
“I was on the job for twenty years, AJ. Want to know the most important thing I learned?”
“No.”
“Too bad. You’re gonna hear it anyway. Ignoring a theory, no matter how batshit it sounds, is loopier than a cross-eyed cowboy.”
Fuck.
He’s right. My anger won’t help Grace if it stops us from following a lead—any lead—that could keep her safe.
“Yeah. Okay. So the flowers are a dead end. For now.”
“Did I say that? Mik’s damn good at her job. She’s running tests on the pollen to see if that helps her narrow down where it’s from. Apparently, that’s a thing. She also suggested taking a sample of Grace’s hair and sending that off to a lab for analysis.”
“I cut it for her this mornin’. I can pull a few strands out of the trash?—”
“Fuckin’ hell, AJ. You’re a Ranger. You know the ends won’t work. Needs to be recent growth. Down by the root.” Connor’s sigh carries over the connection. “Get your head on straight, idjit. Grace needs you at your best.”
He’s right. I’m still so damn raw from the past three days, I’m not doing anyone a lick of good. I lower my voice as I angle a gaze down the hall toward the bedroom. “Zephyr get anything on cults active in the Austin metro area?”
“Not yet. She’s workin’ two cases right now. I don’t think she’s slept in twenty-four hours. But I put in a call to my old boss at the Bureau. Maybe he’ll have some resources he’ll be willin’ to share.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you.”
Connor chuckles. “We ain’t nowhere close to even, AJ. What you did for Isabel and Veronica? I’ll be in your debt till the end of the world. Let me know how it goes with the doctor today.”
“Will do.”
Belle sits up in the back seat of the SUV, her travel harness secured by the seatbelt. I should have known she wouldn’t take kindly to Grace leaving the house without her. I got her in the crate easy enough, but the second she couldn’t see Grace, she started makin’ such a ruckus, I was sure she was gonna hurt herself.
Behind dark glasses, Grace’s eyes are closed, and she has the door handle in a white-knuckled grip.
“I wish I could hold you, darlin’,” I say, reaching over to brush her cheek with my knuckles at a stoplight. “I should’ve asked Jasper to drive us.”
Grace leans into the touch, then grimaces. “It’s not as bad as yesterday. But—” Her hand flies to her mouth. “Oh, God. Air. I need…air.”
I crack the window for her, letting the biting March wind roll through the cabin. “Hang on. There’s a parking lot up ahead. We can stop for a few minutes.”
“No,” she says through gritted teeth. “I’m…okay.”
I shake my head, relieved Grace’s eyes are still closed. Okay is somewhere north of the moon. She ain’t even close to okay. The doc better have some answers for us.
In the parking garage, Parker leans against the bumper of Jasper’s truck, her sharp-eyed gaze sweeping over the handful of cars. This level is reserved for the hospital staff, though I’ve parked down here a time or two on official business.
My brother paces the entire length of the row until he sees my SUV, then double-times it back to the truck.
Grace lets out a sigh the moment I put the car in park.
“You want the walker or the wheelchair?”
“I want to walk on my own,” she mutters.
I cup her cheek and skate my thumb under her eye. “Soon.”
“Uh, AJ?” Parker nods at the back of the SUV. “Did you get Belle an Emotional Support Animal certification in the past twelve hours?”
“She almost destroyed her crate before we got halfway to the door. Didn’t know what else to do with her.” I unfold the wheelchair next to the passenger door. “Maybe you can keep her calm while we go up.”
