Home > Books > Finlay Donovan Jumps the Gun (Finlay Donovan, #3)(49)

Finlay Donovan Jumps the Gun (Finlay Donovan, #3)(49)

Author:Elle Cosimano

The temperature in the garage seemed to climb a few degrees. I cleared my throat. “Thank you, Javi. We’ll take whatever you can get for it.” It was almost five thirty, and we weren’t likely to avoid notice if we returned the police cruiser after sunrise. “We should get back to the training center while it’s still dark.” I nudged Vero toward the car. Before the two of them killed each other. Or kissed each other. Neither would get us back to the academy any faster. And despite Sylvia’s deadline and Vero’s persistent badgering, neither of us had time to waste rewriting our romantic dramas. We only had two more days to figure out who EasyClean was and get Feliks off our backs.

CHAPTER 24

The sunrise was little more than a promise on the horizon when we returned to the training center just before dawn. We’d pulled over a mile from the academy and I’d climbed into the trunk. Vero had propped her phone up in the front seat and I listened, breath held, as she narrated our precarious return through the gate. The officer in the booth had glanced up from his phone as our headlights approached, took one look at the roof lights, and waved us through. Vero parked the training cruiser alongside the others and helped me out of the trunk.

“You should get back to the dorm and get out of that uniform before anyone sees you wearing it,” I said, dusting myself off. It was almost seven, and I was sure a few cops would be surfacing from their rooms to squeeze in a run before class or an early morning workout. “The cafeteria should be opening in a few minutes. I’ll grab us some breakfast and meet you back in our room.”

Vero hunched into Ty’s coat, her teeth chattering and her steps brisk as she disappeared into the back door of the dormitory. I hurried toward the mess hall, dreaming about a hot cup of coffee and the possibility of a donut, grateful there was still time to shower and catch a few hours of sleep before classes were scheduled to start.

“Finlay!” My sister’s voice rang out behind me, punctuated by the patter of running feet. I turned as Delia crashed into my legs. Zach took a running leap into my arms, both of them showering me with kisses.

I held them to me, drinking them in. They were still warm from my sister’s car, and their hair smelled faintly of my mother’s kitchen. “What on earth are you two doing here?” I pressed my lips to their foreheads as my sister rolled their luggage over the sidewalk.

Delia scrunched up her nose. “You smell funny, Mommy.”

My sister dropped their bags, giving me a suspicious once-over. “What happened to you?”

I set Zach down on the sidewalk and brushed my tangled hair back from my eyes. There were pine needles in it. Thorns stuck to my coat and my shoes were covered in mud. I hid them behind my children. “Too much cold medicine,” I said. “I crashed pretty hard after the crime scene class in the woods last night. Didn’t get a shower.” My sister took a cautious step back as I faked a sniffle. I hoped it was far enough that she couldn’t smell the paint thinner on my hands. “Why aren’t the kids at Mom and Dad’s?”

“Ma called me a few hours ago. Dad’s got a kidney stone, and apparently it’s the size of a small planet. She asked me to watch the kids so she could take him to the hospital, but they admitted Dad through the ER this morning and she doesn’t want to leave him. I tried calling Steven to see if he could cover the kids, but he didn’t answer his phone. I’m scheduled to teach a class at ten, so I packed their bags and brought the little buggers with me.”

I wrangled Zach as he tried to dash away, slinging him onto my hip as he wriggled. “Is Dad okay? Should we go to the hospital, too?”

“He’s fine. Mom’s there fussing over him, and the urologist is on his way to blast the thing with a laser. The last thing Dad needs is a peanut gallery waiting for him to piss asteroids into a cup. He’ll be good as new in a few hours. What about you? Feeling any better?”

I stifled a yawn. “Nothing a hot shower and a nap won’t fix.”

“Great.” She passed me the kids’ Rollaboards and diaper bag. “I’m starving. I’m going to grab something to eat and catch some sleep before class. Try not to be late. Nick’s got some good sessions planned. See you in a couple of hours.”

“But, Georgia,” I called after her as Zach started crying for his blanket, “what am I supposed to do with … the kids?” I sighed as she disappeared into the cafeteria.

Delia tugged on my sleeve. “Mommy, can we go inside? I’m cold.”

“Sure, sweetie. Come on.” I took both Rollaboards in one hand and slung the diaper bag over my elbow, clutching Zach to one hip as I led Delia into the gym. I used my foot to haul open the door, my body running on what was left of my adrenaline as I ushered the children into the women’s locker room, relieved to find it empty. I handed Delia a coloring book and a box of markers from her overnight bag and gave Zach a bag of dry Cheerios to distract him as I searched the luggage for his missing blanket, swearing quietly when I couldn’t find it. I set him down on the floor in front of the showers and sent a quick text to Vero while they were occupied.

Kids are here with me. Long story. Can you bring me a change of clothes to the gym?

Haha, you’re very funny, she replied.

“Say cheese,” I said to the kids. They looked up at the camera with wide eyes and gap-toothed expressions, marker ink staining their hands. I snapped a mug shot of my children and sent it to Vero.

WTF?! I’m on my way.

I pulled up Cartoon Network on Delia’s tablet and set it in front of the kids, making sure they were fully engrossed before calling my mother.

“Finlay? I’m sorry about the kids,” she answered. “Your sister has them. I had to go to the hospital with your father.” Hospital noises quieted in the background, as if she’d stepped outside.

“Delia and Zach are actually with me.”

“What? Where’s Georgia? She promised she would help with the children!”

So had everyone else since my divorce. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got everything under control. Is Dad okay?”

“He’s fine. Just cranky. The urologist is stuck in traffic on the beltway. I called the nurse’s station and asked them to bring some morphine.”

“He’s in a lot of pain?”

“No, I am. The man’s driving me crazy.”

I laughed. “Try to get some rest. And give Dad a kiss for me. Call me when he’s out of surgery, okay?”

The children were still playing quietly when my mother disconnected. I dialed Steven again. His phone rang straight to voice mail, just like it had last night.

“Where are you?” I asked his recording. “The kids are with me at the police academy. Call me.” I jabbed the red button, swearing an oath to myself that if he wasn’t already dead in a ditch, he would be after I found him.

I stripped out of my dirt-caked clothes, turned the water on high, and ducked under the warm spray, drawing the curtain shut. Muddy brown water swirled down the drain. I pumped a handful of shampoo from the wall dispenser, peeking through the curtain between rinses to make sure the kids were still where I’d left them.

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