No Gun Intended Read Online Free Page B

out, but I’m fine.” I took a sip of pinot gris. I was sitting on the back porch with my jacket zipped all the way up, gloves on, and my sock-monkey knit hat covering my ears. It’s the warmest hat I own and I think it’s cute, no matter what Mickey says. Or my mother. As for Dad, he’s mute on the monkey-hat debate.
    â€œBabe, I can tell you’re upset. Your voice has a weird vibrato going on.”
    â€œIt’s cold and I’m outside.”
    â€œAre you wearing your sock-monkey?”
    I laughed. “Of course I am. You miss me, right?”
    â€œEspecially in that hat. Look, you keep me posted. I want to know what they find out about the girl and the gun. I…” He stopped.
    â€œYou what?” I could imagine Mickey running his hand through his dark hair and closing his eyes tight, like he does before he’s going to say something he doesn’t want to say.
    â€œI’m worried that you’re in danger.”
    I sighed. “No, Claudia’s in danger. Not me. Plus, Mom and Dad and Dusty are taking good care of me. You should have seen Mom with Claudia. She was amazing, of course. Took charge of the situation, told me and Dad what to do, gave the EMTs a detailed report on Claudia’s pulse and…”
    â€œSee? You’re upset. You already told me all of this. I’m coming out.”
    I stamped my feet. My toes were going numb. “No. You have a job. An important one. Any progress on the missing boy? The parents must be frantic.”
    â€œActually, I have a couple of leads.” He paused. “I should follow this through, you’re right. Every hour that passes reduces the chances of finding this kid, Matthew. But…”
    â€œLet’s take this day by day. If I really need you, I’ll let you know. Right now, I need to get warm.”
    Mickey exhaled. “Hmm. I should be getting you warm, in bed.”
    â€œThat would be nice, but not necessary because I brought…”
    â€œLet me guess: your flannel pajamas?”
    â€œYup.”
    â€œAre you wearing sock-monkey to bed, too?”
    I giggled. “That’s a little kinky, Mickey, and no. Just big socks on my feet. So, you see, I’m well taken care of.”
    â€œYou don’t need me.”
    I paused. “I always need you, more than a coach needs his cleats. And I always have you with me, whether you’re in bed with me or not.”
    â€œQuarterback, you nut. Love you.”
    â€œLove you.”
    We hung up.
    ***
    I didn’t like lying to Mickey, but I didn’t want to worry him. Fact was, I could be in danger. Claudia was still unconscious, in a coma. Whoever wanted that gun was still out there somewhere, and if Claudia told him or her about our conversation, maybe he or she wasn’t too happy about a “detective” being involved. But I wasn’t going to alarm Mickey. Not yet, anyway. I was going to play it cool, calm, and collected.
    Not an easy role for me. It would be like Chelsea Handler playing the lead in a biopic about Mother Teresa.
    Mom had picked up pizza from an Italian restaurant a couple of blocks away, and Dad had thrown together a salad. We sat down to eat, with Dusty eyeing us hopefully.
    â€œHow’s Mick?” asked Dad.
    â€œFine. Busy with a case.”
    â€œThat’s good, right?”
    â€œYup. Good for him. For us. A missing ten-year-old, though, which makes it tough. He said he has some leads, though.”
    â€œWell, if anyone can find him, I bet Mickey can,” Dad said.
    I took a bite of pizza. I had never heard of Brussels sprouts on pizza before, but this was delicious. Béchamel sauce, onions…yum. “This is so good!”
    Mom nodded. “Our favorite.” She took a swallow of wine. “So, what are we going to do?
    â€œTomorrow?” I asked.
    â€œNo, about the girl.”
    Dad put his forkful of salad back on its plate. “Syl, what are you