“I’ll ask about those drugs. Rest now.” Mal turned toward the door.
“Mal?”
He faced her once again. “Yeah?”
“Can you ask the nurses to give flowers to people who don’t have any? There must be people here who are alone. Spread the love. Tell Ellie and the other nurses to take one home, too.”
Mal smiled. “You got it.”
Sasha sank into her pillows, exhausted. As she drifted into an uneasy sleep, she heard it again—the man’s voice.
Die, bitch!
Darius followedDeputy Marcs through the door of Knockers, the brewpub Hunter had mentioned, mouthwatering scents hitting him as he stepped inside.
“Knockers is named after the Tommyknockers,” Deputy Marcs told him.
“Who are the Tommyknockers?” They sounded like a rock band.
“The Cornish miners who settled the town believed Tommyknockers were little gnome-like creatures who lived in the mines. One of our local women swears a Tommyknocker saved her life several years back.”
Why didn’t that surprise Darius?
A woman with long blond hair hurried toward them, tattoos of roses and skulls on her arms and a ring in her nose. “Any news?”
Deputy Marcs shook her head. “Not yet. We’re still looking. Detective Silva, this is Rain Moffat. She and her husband, Joe, own this place.”
Rain’s gaze shifted to Darius, and she picked up a couple of menus. “Thanks for helping with the investigation. We all love Sasha and want these bastards brought to justice.”
“I’ll do everything I can.”
“Can we sit at the Team table?”
“Sure.” Rain led them to the back, where a small group of people sat around a long table that was actually four four-tops put together. In the back was a climbing wall like the one at Darius’ gym. He’d never seen one in a brewpub before.
Okay, he could admit it. That was cool.
Heads turned as they approached the table.
“Mind if Julia and Detective Silva join you?” Rain asked.
“No. Not at all.”
Darius sat across from Deputy Marcs and took a menu from Rain. “Thanks.”
Rain put her hands on her hips and gave him and Deputy Marcs a stern look. “Just to be clear, your money isn’t good here today. You eat for free.”
Darius started to object. He couldn’t accept perks or favors while working on an investigation. He would risk opening himself to accusations of partiality. Even the suggestion of impropriety could blow a case in court.
Deputy Marcs leaned over. “Lighten up, Silva. This is Scarlet, not LA.”
It was too late, anyway, because Rain had gone.
Shit.
“I don’t break the rules.”
“Maybe you should try it.” Deputy Marcs introduced him. “This is Detective Darius Silva. He’s on loan from the DPD, thanks to Marc Hunter. He used to work with the Threat Management Unit in LA, protecting celebrities from crazy stalkers.”
