Marginally better. But not a lot. Sarah jerked her head toward the corridor. “Walk with me.”
Hudson fell into step beside her. “Routes?”
“North is closed,” Sarah said. “Washout two weeks ago and the repairs aren’t finished. The coast road closed yesterday. I checked with Walter en route here.”
Approval flickered in Hudson’s eyes.
Owen cursed softly. “So one road. Not ideal.”
Sarah almost smiled. Understatement appeared to be a shared marshal trait.
“State Troopers?” Hudson asked.
“I can request a unit on the highway,” she said.
“Don’t tell them why.”
Her gaze snapped to Hudson.
“We don’t know how far this reaches.” He shrugged.
She hated that he was right. “I’ll get road conditions directly from dispatch. No names. No destination.” She looked at Hudson. “And I want check-ins every fifteen minutes.”
“We could lose signal past Bowhill Ridge.”
“Then call before you hit it and the second you’re clear.”
“Sarah—”
“That wasn’t a suggestion.”
The corner of Hudson’s mouth lifted. “Understood, Sheriff.”
Her body remembered exactly what that mouth had done to her last night. Jesus Christ. She folded her arms tighter across her chest.
“I’ll bring the vehicle around.” Owen headed outside, leaving them alone.
Hudson’s fingers closed lightly around her elbow. A discreet touch. To anyone watching, nothing.
But Sarah felt it everywhere. “Be careful.”
“Always.”
She looked straight at him. “Hudson.”
The humor left his face.
Sarah put her hand flat against his chest. “Come back.”
His hand covered hers. “I will.”
44
Hudson had spent the first ten minutes learning the cadence of the vehicle. The next ten assessing the road conditions. The last twenty cataloging everything that might become a problem.
Forty minutes on the road. Archie, one of the two critical-care medics, was at the wheel. His partner, Julie, rode in the back with Cord and Marshal Mercer. Owen followed with Gunner in the SUV.
Hudson flexed his fingers. Nothing unusual. So far. The tree line slid past, and the radio crackled.