Page 61 of Lost and Found

Sergeant McGavins looked unconvinced. “This is what I can promise you…”

That didn’t bode well. Bailey deflated.

“We’ll do a thorough investigation,” McGavins continued, “and I will make sure that we stay in touch with you and Mr. Wilder. He explained that you’ve already hired a security firm. We’ll make sure they get whatever we find.”

She bit her lip. No one was treating this like a murder suspect had all but announced himself across the hall. “Okay.”

“As much as we can share, we will.”

That was the end of that.

“Now,” the sergeant turned to Wes, then back to Bailey. “Do us all a favor and let your friend take you to the emergency room to get checked out.”

“She’s going,” Wes said. “Don’t worry.”

Bailey tried to scowl, but her face hurt. Sergeant McGavins handed her the card and left.

Wes scooted the desk chair closer and sat across from Bailey. “You’re a handful, you know that?”

“Oh, yeah. This is my fault. Are you really going to make me go to the emergency room?”

“Absolutely. And while we’re there, I’m going to check in with Viv and Dean. Unless you want to drive home tonight.”

“No. It’s late, and that’s not a quick trip.” Having someone take charge meant a lot. She didn’t even realize how exhausting it was to always make the decisions. “I really appreciate it, Wes.”

His head tilted to the side, and he paused as if he wanted to say something, but he held out his hand. “The sooner we go, the sooner we’re done.”

The nearest emergency room was a quick drive. The wait was much longer, though blood-coated hair helped the triage nurse finagle her into the upper queue.

After a battery of questions, including calling Sergeant McGavins to explain she wasn’t the victim of domestic violence, and neurological tests, Bailey was discharged with instructions to take it easy. “I told you I didn’t have a concussion.”

“Glad to hear you’re correct, Dr. Cosgrove.” He loaded her into his truck but didn’t shut the door. Wes carefully touched her cheek, tilting her head to examine the swelling. He brushed her hair aside even though he’d seen nurses and doctors examine the side of her head all night long. His touch drifted away. “This isn’t how I thought the night was going to end.”

“It’s like part two. You get to say good night to me again.”

His lips lifted with a trace of humor wrapped in hesitation. “About that. I have good news and bad.”

“Good first.”

“The hotel’s comping our stay.”

“Yay. I guess we earned that with my blood and tears.”

With a squinting shrug, he grumbled, “They’ll probably do almost anything to make sure you don’t sue them. But that brings us to the bad. A new room for you. As much as they’d do anything to make things right tonight, they’re completely sold out.”

“What? How? I just booked our rooms two days ago.”

“That was apparently a stroke of luck. We’re near the beach, and summer has fully kicked off. They even reached out to several hotels in the area, but nope. Sold out everywhere.”

Uncertainty about what to do gnawed at the back of her head. That didn’t help the throbbing headache that painkillers hadn’t completely taken care of. “It’s not like the door had been kicked in.”

Wes frowned. “Sergeant McGavins said they’re gone for the night, but they’re going to have another team process it in the morning based on how we tied it to a murder suspect, and probably your last name. They aren’t rushing the process. Crossing T’s, dotting I’s.”

Having Wes to lean on lifted a mental burden she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying. “What’ll we do?”

“They’ll leave your belongings at the front desk. You’ll stay in my room. You’ll take the bed. I’ll sleep on the pull-out.”

She assessed his tall, broad frame as he hovered protectively over her. “Pull-out couches are awfully small.”