His eyebrows shot up. “A road trip where?”
“Reno.”
Chapter 9
“What’s in Reno? We don’t need a quick divorce and I’m not in the mood for gambling.”
“A man named Benny Jacobs lives there. I found his address on Brandon’s phone in May. He’s an expert on venomous insects and reptiles and has a collection. I sent him an email earlier this month. He’s free on weekends after five. His information might help us create an antidote. I can’t synthesize bark scorpion venom or antivenom. He might supply some or know where we can get some.”
I waited for Christopher to decide if he would come, then said,“I didn’t want to go alone and I wasn’t sure how I was going to get there. I waited until after the opening at the Museum. If you say no, I’ll take the bus next weekend. Down on Saturday, back on Sunday.”
“That’s a long way to go for someone who doesn’t drive.” He looked thoughtful.
I bit my lip and nodded. We hadn’t discussed that I didn’t drive. He’d been observant.
“Hours of driving.”
I glanced down, my shoulders sagging. He was going to say no. That it was crazy to go that far to talk to a stranger based on a hunch. I’d tried to ask my questions by email, but Mr. Jacobs insisted I come in person.
“I can be back here and ready to travel within the hour. Can we stop at the hospital on the way?”
I looked up, surprised that he’d agreed. I’d expected to have to convince him. I wanted to jump up and down.
“Thank you.”I smiled, thrilled that I would have help and support.
I hadn’t given up on helping Brandon, but I had been reluctant to travel to Reno on my own. Christopher and I were better as a team.
“I can be ready. I’ll let him know we’re coming this weekend.”
Christopher finished his breakfast and set his plate on the counter. “Sorry to leave you with the dishes,” he said. “But my ride is here. Breakfast wasn’t much of an apology after all. I still owe you. After I get my car, I’m going home to change my walk-of-shame clothes. I’ll pick you up as soon as I can get back. That work?”
I nodded.
“Thanks for last night. I appreciate you taking care of me. I was in rough shape.” He grimaced. “I haven’t done that since college.”
He hurried out. I relocked the door before I texted my sister.
“Can you come take Ember overnight? An unexpected trip came up. Going to Reno.”
“Of course,”came her reply.“Everything ok?”
“I think so.”I appreciated that she’d agreed with so little explanation.
“You’re going to need to explain everything at dinner tomorrow.”
There they were, the strings. I sighed. She never changed.
Christopher returned in the prescribed amount of time. I wasn’t quite ready, but he was patient while I finished. I’d showered and packed an overnight bag. As I made my bed, I found a folded note tucked under my pillow. My throat tightened, and I blinked back tears. I opened the paper to read,“You looked fantastic in black.”I allowed myself a small smile. The writing looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Maybe Christopher had hidden it for me to find. If he had, I couldn’t bring it up. Our feelings were too raw.
Shrugging, I tucked the note into my jewelry box and finished packing while Christopher waited. Reno was too far for us to plan on driving home tonight. We’d find some place to stay.
Checking my phone, I read my reply from Benny, the critter guy. He didn’t care when we arrived—this afternoon or evening, either way, he was free. He reiterated how important it was for me to see his specimens. I didn’t understand the fascination with snakes, spiders, and scorpions.
Now that Christopher had showered, shaved, and changed, he didn’t look worse for wear from his night of drinking, though he had a tightness between his eyes and tense set to his broad shoulders. The tension must be Brandon-related. I didn’t know if I’d be able to maintain my mental shields for the ten hours I was about to spend with him in the car, but I’d do my best. I didn’t want to force unwanted feelings on him. It would be unfair when he was trying to be honorable.
When we entered the hospital, I stopped. It smelled the same as it always did, a mix of antiseptic and scented cleaners to cover deeper organic smells. It triggered the memory of my last visit.
I sat in Emergency, my arm aching—likely broken—while I waited for treatment. My nerves jangled from the accident. My numb state of shock cushioned my grip on reality. I kept seeing the swirling red lights from the ambulance. My forehead cut stung from whatever the paramedics had applied. I watched while they wheeled Eric’s body away on a stretcher. Visions of his angry face accusing me at impact floated in the air. They said they’d do what they could, but I’d seen his face. He was dead and not coming back. All I felt was relief and wonder. Somehow, I was still alive. I reached up to touch the cut on my forehead, right at the hairline.
