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“I would probably have gone straight to the bottom.” A shudder rippled through Lainie. “I keep playing it over and over in my head and I just can’t believe it happened.” She frowned. “I was doing better with the PTSD, the nightmares, the ... everything. At least I thought I was. But now...”
“Are you still seeing your therapist?”
“Like clockwork.”
“Is it helping?”
Was it? She sighed. “I think so. But you know what? I don’t want to talk about this anymore. The cops are looking into it. Change of subject.”
“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
“Camping.”
“Lainie...” Allison drew Lainie’s name out again and wrinkled her nose. “You’re still on that? Let’s go back to your therapist.”
“This is therapy. I stand by my idea that it would be good for us all to get away.” She narrowed her eyes. “And you agreed, but you haven’t given your vote.”
“And that’d be the first weekend in October, right?”
“Right.”
“Well...”
Lainie waited. “Allison ...” Her drawing her friend’s name out, mimicking Allison, wasn’t lost on the doctor.
“Oh, good grief,” Allison said. “You already know what I’m going to vote for.”
Lainie scoffed. “Seriously?”
“Glamping.” Allison shrugged. “I don’t do hikes and bugs and stuff. I want to sit in a hammock wrapped in mosquito netting while under the open skies and read a book.”
Lainie rolled her tired eyes.
“Hey”—Allison held up a hand—“I’m not saying you guys can’t do your thing. I’m just saying that I want my little slice of nature next door to a comfortable bed and indoor plumbing. Not all of us grew up with a dad who had an end-of-the-world mentality.”
True enough. And that had been a good and, a little too often, a bad thing. Knowing how to use a gun had saved her life eighteen months ago, but her father’s constant harping on being prepared for the end had probably contributed to her mother’s hoarding issues. “Fine. There were about three glamping choices on the list. Which one?”
“What’s the budget?”
“As cheap as possible. Not all of us are on Dr. Allison’s salary.”
“Oh hush. Your salary isn’t anything to sneeze at. Now, tell me. Who else is coming again? The usual crew? Even Kenzie?”
“Yep. Kenzie’s in. Assuming she doesn’t get called out for something.” Kenzie King, a SWAT medic who’d come in last month to have a wound caused by the graze of a bullet stitched up. She invited Lainie to lunch, Lainie accepted, and the two had been tight friends ever since. “And Jesslyn, I hope.” Jesslyn McCormick had been a longtime friend to Lainie. Almost as close as she and Stephanie Cross, the one she’d considered her BFF. But in fifth grade, Jesslyn and Lainie had bonded when Jesslyn’s family died in a house fire. Jesslyn had been spared because she and Lainie had been spendingthe night with Steph. And now she fought fire on a daily basis as Lake City’s fire marshal.
“What about Kristine?” Allison asked.
“I haven’t heard from her yet, but I think she’s on a flight.” As an air marshal, Kristine Duncan flew about fifteen days a month, spending five hours a day protecting those in the air. “I’ll text her again to make sure.”
“Okay then,” Allison said. “I’ll go with glamping.”
Lainie groaned, but grinned. “Fine, you little diva. Glamping it is. We will even let you pick the place, but I’m bringing the Scrabble game.”
Allison laughed. “Well, I’m not playing. You cheat.”
“I do not!”
“You’ve practically memorized the Scrabble dictionary. That’s cheating.”
