Название: Tennessee Takedown
Автор: Lena Diaz
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные детективы
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She’d never wanted to live this far from the conveniences in town, but her options were limited, since most people insisted on a long lease. Still, she hadn’t minded living here temporarily. But with this morning’s shooting fresh in her memory, the isolation was making her feel uneasy, and vulnerable.
Thunder boomed overhead.
“What was that?” Lauren asked over the phone.
“Thunder. The weathermen have been predicting a big storm all week. Looks like it’s finally here. It’s pitch-black outside even though it’s only six o’clock. And the rain’s been coming down like a monsoon for the past couple of hours. After all the rain we had last week, we sure don’t need this. The river’s already near flood stage.”
“Should you get out of there?”
“I’ll be fine. The house is on high ground and the river’s several miles from here. Plus, I’ve stocked up on essentials in case the road gets washed out again.”
Lauren droned on about poor road maintenance and the crumbling infrastructure in the country while Ashley looked through the curtains again. She would have loved to leave Destiny far behind after the horrific shooting this morning, but she’d promised Detective Gray she’d stay through the end of the week. Even if she hadn’t made that promise, it would be a real pain to try to change her schedule at the last minute. She’d already planned the walk-through with her landlord so she could get her deposit back and turn in her keys.
When Lauren had called, Ashley confessed some of the general information about the shooting, but she’d kept most of the details to herself. Lauren was on a week-long cruise she’d planned for well over a year. Ashley didn’t want to upset her friend and ruin her fun. She also didn’t want Lauren to call Ashley’s family about the shooting and get them upset. There’d be plenty of time to tell them what happened after she got back home to Nashville.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lauren asked. “You’re even quieter than usual. Maybe I should cut my vacation short and go there to be with you.”
“Don’t you dare. You’ve had this trip planned forever and I doubt they’d refund your money. Besides, by the time you got off the ship, hopped a plane, then drove forever through the boonies to get way out here, I’ll be back home.” She forced a note of cheerfulness she didn’t feel into her voice. “Now tell me, which tropical island are you touring right now?”
Lauren hesitated, as if she was going to argue, but she finally let out a long breath. “All right, you win. I’ll quit bugging you, for now. Today the cruise ship took us to a little place right outside Jamaica.”
“Nice.”
Lightning flashed again, much closer this time. Ashley jumped and let out a little squeak.
“Oh, yeah, you sound fine to me,” Lauren accused. “Don’t you want to talk about what happened?”
“Sure. Let’s talk about the SWAT detective guy who rescued me. He was really hot.”
“Not-so-subtle way of avoiding the topic, but I’ll bite. How hot was he? Scale of one to ten.”
Ashley plopped down on the couch and tucked her legs beneath her. Lauren would probably drool over Detective Dillon Gray’s broad shoulders and trim waist. She’d love his dark, wavy hair that seemed a bit too long and untamed for a cop. And she’d probably squeal over what Ashley thought of as sexy stubble that formed a barely there goatee, mustache and dark shadow that ran up his jawline. He looked the way she imagined a man might look after lounging in bed with his lover for days without taking time to shave.
As enticing as all that was, Ashley knew her friend wouldn’t appreciate what Ashley thought of as Dillon’s best feature—his kind smile—and the gentle way he’d held her hand when she’d desperately needed the warmth and contact of another human being who wasn’t trying to kill her.
He’d given her the strength to hold herself together. Without the kindness and patience he’d showed to a stranger, she probably would have lost it and imploded into a mass of nerves. Somehow, with him there, focusing those thickly lashed blue-gray eyes on her, she’d managed to keep her composure.
“Ash, come on. Scale of one to ten. Rank him.”
She idly traced little circles on the arm of the couch with her fingertips as she debated her answer. If she ranked Dillon too high, Lauren would probably pester her to call him and try to wheedle a date out of him. So instead of saying “ten,” which was spot-on, she lowered the number.
“A six, I suppose. It was kind of hard to tell with all that body armor on.” She didn’t bother to mention she’d seen him later without the armor. “Maybe a seven. Yeah, I could stretch it to a seven.”
“Seven? That’s not hot. That’s lukewarm,” Lauren scoffed. “What’s his name?”
“Dillon Gray.”
“Hmm. Dillon’s good. Not too keen on Gray, though. Sounds kind of morose, depressing. Maybe I’ll change his name when I embellish the story to my cruise ship friends at dinner.”
Ashley laughed. “You do that. Oh, darn it.” She jumped up from the couch and headed into the kitchen.
“What’s wrong?”
She dug into the cabinet under the sink until she found a large metal mixing bowl. “Looks like that roof repair last week didn’t hold. There’s a healthy drip coming through the living room ceiling again.”
“Dang, girl. I told you to argue with the landlord about using cheap roofers.”
“I know, but I’m leaving in a few days, so what does it matter?”
“It doesn’t, as long as the roof doesn’t come down on you.”
“Maybe it’s not the roofer’s fault.” She placed the bowl under the leak and peered up at the plaster ceiling. “As hard as it’s been raining, even a good roof might leak right now.”
“You are way too nice, as always. If it were up to me, I’d call the landlord and...”
“And what?” Ashley repositioned the bowl. The drips were coming faster now. Getting some sleep tonight wasn’t looking like a good prospect, not if she had to keep emptying out the water and listening to the pinging sound of the constant drips. She crossed back to the couch but paused when she realized her friend still hadn’t answered.
“Lauren, are you still there?”
Silence.
She pulled the phone away and looked at the screen. Great. The call had been dropped. She plopped down on the couch and dialed Lauren’s number. No ringing. Nothing. Maybe Lauren’s phone wasn’t the problem. She tried to get a dial tone, but it was like the phone was...dead.
Weird, that had never happened here before. The storm must have shorted something out, or maybe knocked down the nearest cell tower.
She tossed the phone down and grabbed the TV remote off the coffee table. Casting a disparaging glance at the drips rapidly СКАЧАТЬ