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He crooked a finger at me.
“Sir,” the female paramedic protested.
Lowering my head to Fluffy, I ignored the glower from the woman.
Fluffy whispered an address in my ear, one I didn’t know.
Straightening, I frowned.
Pain flickering across his face, Fluffy slowly rose to his feet. “Keys are under the backdoor mat. Don’t leave there until either me, Dr. Winchester, or Lucas tell you to.”
I blinked. “Are you serious?”
Expression unreadable, Mom tried to wrap Fluffy’s arm around her shoulders.
“What did Dr. Winchester say to you, Mom?”
Mom blinked, chewed on her bottom lip for a second, and then looked at me. “She told me to check into the Happy Dreams Motel on the highway. She said she’d call me as soon as I could collect your father from the police station.” A frown pulled at her eyebrows. “She knew my name, my grandmother’s name. My social security number, the date your father asked me on our first date…” Her frown deepened. “Who is she?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s a long story, Mom. But I’ll tell you soon. I promise.”
She looked down at Fluffy, and then at me again. “Should I book into the hotel?”
I reached out and squeezed her shoulder gently. “Yes. I think that’s a very good idea.”
“Me too,” Fluffy rumbled.
“Sir,” the female paramedic said. A distant part of me recognized how pretty she was. “Please, we need—”
Fluffy—now completely upright—gave her a smile. “If you promise to let me take you to dinner tomorrow night, I’ll walk to the ambulance right this very second.”
“Sir, you may not even be alive tomorrow night.”
He grinned. “Then give me something to live for.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay. Dinner. Now let’s go.”
Trust me, if I didn’t miss the way her cheeks suddenly got pink and the way she quickly brushed her hair behind her ear before she wrapped her arm around Fluffy’s waist and walked him to the door, neither did Fluffy.
“Ma’am?”
I turned to the cop approaching me from the right.
“I need to take a statement.”
Behind him, the paramedic team that had arrived when Lucas was taken away were strapping Maureen Ford onto a stretcher. She was still out cold. How hard had Lucas hit her?
I nodded. And then told him everything I knew about her. About what she’d said, what she’d planned. How she’d shot Fluffy and Francis. Who she was to Trinity.
I’ve never seen a cop’s eyebrows rise so much.
When I was finished, he studied me with an intensity I didn’t know how to interpret. “You’re the woman who found Robert Walker, aren’t you?”
I nodded.
He drew in a slow breath. “Bobby’s mom is my cousin. Thank you. If you or your fiancé ever need anything, anything at all, just call me. I’m Isaac Simpson. Here’s my number.” He scribbled down a number and tore the page off, handing it to me.
A hot, thick lump filled my throat. “Thank you.”
