“Not sure Dylan is going to make it.”
“Everyone who counts,” Matt corrected. “If he doesn’t, it isn’t because of anything we did. He got himself into this mess. He tried to kill Todd. We did everything we could to save him anyway.”
She nodded. “There are times this job is incredibly weird.”
“You know it.”
On the beach, Brody barked. Collins could barely hold him back.
“I need to go see my dog.” Matt stood and turned toward the dock.
Bree rose but didn’t take a step. She kept her voice low. With all the commotion, no one would overhear. “Have I told you I love you today?”
He turned and smiled over his shoulder. Before he could respond, a state trooper summoned them from the dock. It didn’t matter. She knew he loved her. He didn’t have to say it with words.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Hours later, Bree walked down the corridor toward Todd’s room. She’d managed a brief power nap in the waiting room, and her eyes were gritty. She stopped in the doorway. His face was battered. Most of his visible skin was covered with bruises. He’d been dehydrated and hypothermic and diagnosed with a concussion.
She stood in the doorway for a couple of minutes, marveling that he was alive, thanking his incredible will to survive, and cursing Brian Dylan and Stephanie Crighton. He opened his eyes as she walked in. Eye, really. One was still mostly swollen shut.
“How are you?” she asked.
“I’m OK,” he said in a raspy voice. He lifted his left hand. An IV ran into his forearm. “Whatever is in here is definitely helping.”
“They’re keeping you overnight?” Looking at him, she wondered that they could release him anytime soon. Miraculously, X-rays and scans showed no broken bones or major internal injuries. But nearly every inch of him was bruised.
“Yeah.” Todd grimaced. “I’d rather go home.”
“Better safe than sorry.” Bree gestured to his IV. “Besides, the good drugs are here.”
“Good point,” he admitted. “It’s all superficial.” He waved a hand without lifting it off the bed. “I’ll be back to work in a week or so.”
“You will certainly not come back to work until a doctor clears you,” Bree said.
“Oh, no. The stern face.” His mouth curved in a loopy smile, then he winced as if the motion hurt.
Bree couldn’t hold back a laugh. Her chief deputy was normally very serious. The drugs must be talking. She should go before he said something that embarrassed either one of them. Not that he would remember.
He reached for a plastic cup on his bedside table. After swallowing some water, he rested his head back on the pillow, as if that small movement had exhausted him. “I feel stupid.”
“What? Why?”
“I let myself get jumped. I let down my guard.”
“That’s ridiculous. You were at your own house. No one expects to be ambushed in their own yard.”
His shoulder twitched, and he glanced away.
Anger shot through Bree, and she almost wished they hadn’t saved Dylan, the bastard. “You listen here. You have no reason to feel stupid. It took five guys to take you down, and you inflicted some damage on them. You kept a cool head under the most dire and terrifying circumstances.”
He stared at his cup.
Bree lowered her voice. “I—we are all grateful that you survived. You are one tough nut.”
“I guess.” Todd blew out a quick breath through his nostrils.
She touched a spot on his forearm that wasn’t black and blue. “Get some rest.” She vowed he’d get counseling in addition to physical therapy before he returned to work. He would be dealing with the mental and emotional fallout of his ordeal long after his physical injuries had healed.
He closed his eye and drifted off into a drugged slumber.
Footsteps scuffed in the hallway. Bree turned. Cady stood in the doorway, her face pale, her eyes worried. Bree wasn’t surprised to see Matt’s sister there. She’d felt vibes between her and Todd for some time.
“I need to go.” Bree headed for the door. On her way out, she nodded to Cady. “You’ll look after him?”
“I will.” Cady went inside.
“Then I’ll be on my way.” Bree left Todd in Cady’s very capable hands.
Dylan was still in surgery, so Bree headed to the station, where the state police investigator was taking statements. They’d touched base on the phone earlier, but Bree wasn’t in a rush to talk to him. The sun was rising as she parked in the lot. She slipped into her office via the back door.