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Certainly not Jack or Cara.
But what about Marc? His critical-thinking and deductive skills were sharp, and he’d be far more capable of putting aside his personal feelings than either of her siblings.
She pulled out her mascara. Rolled the tube between her fingers as she mulled that over.
No. If she wanted to keep him at arm’s length, seeking his counsel on this wouldn’t be smart. She’d already let too much slip about her past, thanks to the case of motormouth that plagued her in his presence. He was much too easy to talk to.
And for a woman who’d claimed she wasn’t ready to dip her toes into romance again ... who’d vowed not to get involved with a professional colleague ... Marc was a clear danger zone.
She leaned forward and began stroking on mascara.
So who did that leave? Crystal, perhaps? They’d been simpatico back in Idaho, and she did know Travis.
But her fellow female smokejumper had a set-in-stone negative opinion about him, so she wasn’t impartial, either.
Maybe she could—
Her phone began to vibrate, and she pulled it out of the pocket in her jeans.
Alison.
Bri finished her mascara and capped the tube. “Hey, girl. What’s up? I thought your sister was in town.”
“She is. We’re going to brunch soon, but while she’s in the shower I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing after the taxing week you had.”
“Hanging in—and playing with sort of a bizarre theory about the source of my problems.”
A few moments of silence ticked by.
“Does that mean you don’t think they were accidents?”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but I did get a piece of unsettling information this morning.”
“Now you have me intrigued. And more than a little worried.”
A voice spoke in the background as Bri tucked her makeup bag back in the vanity. “Sounds like your sister’s ready to roll. I don’t want to keep you.”
“Give me one sec.” After a muffled conversation on the other end, Alison was back. “Listen, if you want to bounce ideas off someone, I’ll be cooling my heels for forty-five minutes later this morning while Sophie gets the manicure I scheduled for her. I’d go too, but as you know, fancy fingernails and firefighting don’t mix. If you want to get together for a quick chat, I could also introduce you to Sophie after she’s done. I’ve been wanting the two of you to meet.”
Alison’s offer of an impartial, willing ear was too providential to pass up.
“Name the time and place.” Bri crossed to the nightstand and pulled a pen and pad of paper from the drawer.
“Her appointment is at eleven, and there’s an ice-cream shop next to the salon if I can tempt you to indulge.”
“Count me in. If they have butter pecan, I’ll be in heaven.” Bri jotted down the name and address as Alison recited them. “Got it. I’ll be there. Thanks a bunch, Alison. Your call couldn’t have been better timed.”
“Must be fate.”
“Must be. See you soon.”
Bri tucked the slip of paper with the meeting information into her pocket and pulled her belly band holster from the closet. After fastening it around her waist, she fitted it into her jeans, slid her compact Sig into the slot, and secured it with the snap.
Thanks to her promise to Cara, she’d be carrying for the foreseeable future.
But truth be told, it was a prudent tactical strategy. Whether Travis was behind the incidents this week or not, strange vibes were in the air.
Hopefully, Alison’s read on the situation would be helpful. Her new friend appeared to have sound judgment—except with her own husband, perhaps—and it was possible she could offer a useful insight or two.
