She slid off the seat, steadying herself by grabbing Hutch’s arm. He put his arm around her shoulders as her feet found solid ground.
“What the hell happened here?” Carl demanded.
Regina sighed and quickly related the sequence of events leading up to the explosion.
“Sounds like a delayed timer,” Jeremy said grimly. “Christ, if you hadn’t gotten out to go back in, it would have exploded with you in it.”
Hutch paled, and he tightened his grip on her shoulder. She worked hard to keep her hands from shaking, finally balling her fingers into fists.
Her yard quickly got a lot more crowded as more police and first responders showed up. The entire frickin’ town would be there before the hour was out.
The whole area was cordoned off, and she and Hutch were pushed back into the street. She watched with a sense of detachment. It was just any other crime scene. It wasn’therhome and vehicle. To admit that would be to admit how close she’d come to death. Again.
It was enough to make her religious.
Hutch kept his arm around her, rubbing his hand up and down her shoulder. Every once in a while he’d glance down, concern burning brightly in his eyes.
She stared dully at the chief as he directed the activity around her vehicle. It had turned into a regular police party—locals, the county guys, state police, even a bomb squad guy from the city south of her podunk town. This had to be a first.
And just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, Peter Fallon drove up in his black Mercedes. On second thought, things could get worse. Her mother climbed out of the passenger seat and scanned the crowd until her eyes alighted on Regina.
“Fuck me,” Reggie muttered.
Hutch stiffened beside her then squeezed her arm reassuringly. “I’m here, baby.”
To her never-ending shock, and she’d truly thought the days of her parents surprising her had ended, her mother rushed over and threw her arms around Regina, hugging her tightly.
“Regina, thank God you’re all right.”
Regina pulled away, blinking in confusion. “Mom. What are you doing here?”
Lydia smoothed the tendrils of Regina’s hair, pushing them back away from her face in a decidedlymotherlyfashion. Hell, maybe Regina had died, or maybe this was some bizarre dream she hadn’t awoken from yet. She liked option number two.
“Your father heard about the explosion on the police scanner, and we rushed right over. Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
Peter Fallon walked up behind his wife and stared at Regina. “Regina,” he said gruffly. “Are you okay?”
Option one. Definitely option one. Obviously she had died, and this was some sort of purgatory she was assigned to where her mother and father played the role of parents who gave a damn.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“You stay with Regina,” Peter said to Lydia. “I’m going to find out what the hell is going on here. Someone’s trying to kill my daughter, and I want to know why.”
Regina gaped at his retreating back. Then she found herself yanked against her mother once more when Lydia enfolded her in another hug. She glanced up at Hutch in astonished horror.
He looked as confused as she did and lifted his shoulders in a shrug.
For a moment, Regina allowed herself the luxury of indulging in a mother’s hug. She couldn’t remember the last time her mom had hugged her, said she loved her or acted maternal in any shape or fashion.
It felt . . . good.
“You should come stay with me and your father, Regina. You can hardly stay here now,” Lydia said as she pulled away again.
“Uhm, thanks, Mom, but I’ll be staying with Hutch for the short term.” She glanced up at Hutch as she spoke.
Lydia’s brow creased in confusion. “But he doesn’t live here.” She glanced apologetically over at Hutch. “I know you’ve been a good friend to Regina, but surely she should stay in her own community where she can be close to family?”
“I have a house here, Mrs. Fallon,” Hutch said evenly.
