Page 16 of Hudson
“I’ll get on it.”
“Thanks, Creed.”
Hud watched him settle back at his desk. The long scar on Creed’s left cheek caught the light, a quiet reminder of the price this job could extract. They’d almost lost him. They had lost one agent. Most days the work was worth it. Some days that was harder to believe than others.
He turned back to his files and sat with it for a moment.
He’d call Blair tonight. Ask her to dinner, let her know he was heading out of town. Saturday still worked if she was free. He could cancel thereservation if she said no, but he didn’t think she would. He hoped she wouldn’t.
He reached for his phone, then set it back down. Tonight. He’d do it tonight when he wasn’t sitting in the middle of the office with Creed ten feet away and Eli’s radar already up.
A shadow fell across his desk.
“Rawley. How are you doing?”
“Bored as hell. How’s the case?”
Hud looked at him. “You just can’t sit still, can you?”
“I want them, Hud.”
“I know. I do too. I’m working on it.”
“Anything I can do?”
“You’re not even back fulltime yet. Let me handle it.”
Rawley held his gaze. “Just keep me in the loop. Please.”
“I will. I promise.”
Hud shook his head as he watched Rawley make his way out of the office. Still moving carefully, still carrying the pain, but getting there. Hud was just glad he was walking out at all.
Chapter Three
Blair trudged out of the office at five-thirty, the fluorescent lights casting long shadows across the empty waiting room behind her. Back-to-back appointments had run thirty minutes over and her neck ached from hunching over patient charts. Today had felt like wading through quicksand.
As she crossed the half-empty parking lot, her phone vibrated against her hip. She fumbled for it and her stomach dropped when she saw Hud’s name on the screen. She took a breath of the crisp evening air and pressed the green button.
“Hello, Hud.”
“Blair, are you busy?” His voice was deep and warm through the speaker.
“No, just heading home.” She leaned against her car door, the cool metal seeping through her sweater.
“Long day?”
“Some are longer than others. How about yours?”
“Still at the office.” Papers shuffled faintly in the background. “I wanted to ask if you’d like to go to dinner Saturday evening.”
“I’d love to.” The tension in her shoulders eased.
“Great. I have a reservation for six at The Hartland.”
“You made a reservation before you asked me?” A smile tugged at her lips when he chuckled.
“I figured I could cancel it if you turned me down.”
