Page 39 of Into the Rain


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There were commitments at home. She couldn’t keep traveling forever. She’d have to face reality sooner or later. Have to face her mother. And her father. Oh, God, that reminded her. She still hadn’t told her mother about being a star witness in a murder case. Lacey had promised her father that she’d tell her soon. Tonight. She would ring her tonight. Whether she called Elora from Nico’s house or from her van in the caravan park in Stanley was immaterial. Her mother was going to freak out, but Lacey would just have to handle it. She was a big girl. The same way she would have to handle whatever it was that Nico wanted to say to her.

“Might what?” she prompted.

He put the coffee cup he’d been about to fill down carefully on the countertop and cleared his throat. “I thought you might stay for a while. At least until we’ve investigated who attacked you last night.”

“But that could take months,” she admonished softly. “Surely, you don’t want me to stay for months.”

“No,” he said a little too quickly. Then he added, “Well, as long as you don’t want to stay for months, because you’re quite welcome.”

“Really? You’d let me stay here? In your house? For months? So you can make sure I’m safe?” No matter how hard she tried to keep her voice even, it rose by the end of her last sentence. The high pitch made Nico glance sharply at her.

Then he shrugged and looked a little bewildered, and a slow anger began to burn in her guts. She didn’t know if they had anything together. And if they did, what the hell it might mean. But one thing she did know was that she wanted Nico to want her to stay for him. Not out of any sort of duty or guilt. Not just so he could protect her. That wasn’t nearly enough. She wanted him to ask her to stay because he had feelings for her. Or at least so they could explore whatever it was growing between them.

But she couldn’t put her anger and confusion into words. Nico didn’t owe her anything. Much like she didn’t owe him. Perhaps he was just as confused as her, but she wished he’d say something. Anything. She stared at him, not trusting herself to speak.

There was a knock at the front door, breaking their impasse, and a grave voice called out, “Hello, Detective Sergeant Favreau? It’s Constable Hickey. I have a man here who says his name is Dave, and he’s come to fix your Kombi van.”

Saved by the bell. Again.

Smudge ran to the door, barking. Nico raised an eyebrow, asking if she wanted him to get it, but she waved him away. Dave was her problem.

“Coming,” Lacey called as she trotted down the hallway and opened the door, keeping Smudge at bay with her knee.

“Is that correct, ma’am?” It was one of the same constables who’d found the knife last night. Stocky and thick-necked, he made her think of a bulldog. A bulldog that was protecting her, she reminded herself. Had this poor cop even been home to sleep? Or was he pulling a double shift? He narrowed his eyes at her and used his chin to indicate Dave, who was standing nervously behind him.

“Oh, yes. Sorry, I should’ve told you. You can definitely let him in, Constable Hickey.” At least it was good to know the local constabulary were doing their job. But if she moved on, she assumed she’d forfeit all this kind of protection. Another thing to think about. Did she even need protection? She was beginning to think last night’s attack was merely random, and had nothing to do with the murder investigation.

“Right, then.” Hickey gave Dave one more long, appraising look before he stepped down off the veranda to return to his cruiser.

“Something going on that I don’t know about?” Dave asked conversationally as she ushered him through the door and down the hallway, Smudge gamboling at his feet.

Lacey grimaced. She wouldn’t be able to keep the attack a secret for much longer, so she may as well tell him. “Yes. We had an…intruder here last night. He tried to assault me. But he got away. I’m fine, by the way,” she added hurriedly.

“Really?” Dave’s kind, brown eyes went wide as he turned to face her in the kitchen.

“Yes, really,” Nico replied with a growl. “Morning, Dave,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“Has this got something to do with the murd—”

Nico cut him off. “We’re not speculating about anything until we have all the facts.”

But he and Lacey both knew if Dave had jumped to that conclusion, then so would everyone else. By lunchtime, the whole community would be abuzz with gossip and innuendo. Lacey groaned silently. Maybe she was better off leaving after all. At least she wouldn’t have to face all those half-truths and speculation, or people staring at her as if she was some kind of freak. As if she’d invited this sort of unwelcome attention on herself. She’d had enough of that to last her a lifetime after Cindi died.

Nico’s frown deepened as he stared at Dave, almost as if the poor man was the root of all their troubles. None of this was Dave’s fault. He was just here to fix her vehicle. All the other problems that existed between her and Nico were of their own making.

“Got the spare part, I see,” Lacey said brightly, pointing at the white box in Dave’s hands. “Shall we go out and see if it fits?”

“Of course it’ll fit,” Dave huffed. But he followed her and Smudge out the back door and down the steps. Lacey pulled on her jacket as they walked toward her Kombi. It’d be good to get Dotti going again. Good to hop back in and go for a drive. Gain her independence once more. She hadn’t realized how much the lack of her own set of wheels could make her feel trapped. Even though Nico would’ve driven her wherever she wanted to go, it wasn’t the same as getting in her own car and just going.

“Sorry it took so long,” Dave said, bending to lift the rear door to the engine.

“It’s not your problem,” she replied. “Actually, I need to thank you again for coming out on a Saturday.”

“Don’t worry about it. I often work on Saturdays, it’s the nature of the job. The joy of being self-employed.”

“I guess so.” Lacey watched as he tinkered around inside the engine for a few moments.

“I’ve just got to pop down to my truck and grab some more tools.” Dave stood and pointed at his truck parked at the end of the drive. “Your mate, the cop, wouldn’t let me come farther than the front gate.”

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