“I think I’ve heard everything that could go wrong in a person’s mouth at least once, but I’m pretty sure that’s a new one.”
Savannah’s stomach dropped, and she closed her eyes. “Does Doctor Dunfy have an opening this afternoon to take a look at Jamison?”
“Yep. We keep an emergency slot open right before close just for this kind of thing. Can you bring him in at four thirty?”
Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Savannah wanted to scream. Instead, she gritted her teeth a moment, then exhaled. “He’ll be coming to the café after his playdate, and I’ll take a look at him. If I need the spot, I’ll call you back.”
“Sounds good.”
“Hey, Sarah?” she asked before the girl disconnected. “By chance, does Dr. Duffy ever use nitrous oxide?”
“Sure, but I’ll have to check your insurance to see if they’d cover it.”
Savannah’s heart joined her stomach at her feet. “No problem. I was just curious. Thanks.”
Savannah disconnected, closed her eyes, and dropped her head back against the wall.
He’d been lying to her. Savannah was disgusted with herself. She should be able to spot a liar by now.
The bell continued to chime in the diner, cutting into Savannah’s worries. She straightened and stocked her apron with straws and pens with a renewed goal of getting the dirt she needed on Hank to end this custody battle, once and for all. Ian might not be a golden boy, he might not even be the kind of man she wanted to continue seeing, but right now, he was the lesser of two evils and her only hope of getting what she needed to keep her son.
12
Ian followed in Roman’s footstep
s, approaching the barn on Misty’s property from the rear. Just past dusk, they had a limited window of opportunity to get in and get out before Misty finished her shift at the diner and returned home.
Roman moved to the back of an outbuilding a few hundred yards from the barn and paused. Ian peered through the night-vision scope on his M4 and scanned the area.
“Clear,” he told Roman.
“Alpha team, in position,” Roman said, their counterparts approaching from the opposite side of the property.
“Beta team, in position.” Sam’s voice vibrated over the com line. “And may I just take this opportunity to reiterate my opposition to our team name? Moore and I aren’t exactly the moderate, easy-going kind. I’ll admit, we aren’t withdrawn, resentful Deltas either, but I’d be satisfied with Omega or Gamma. What say you, Moore?”
“Affirmative,” Liam said. “I vote for Omega.”
“Done.” Roman took their sarcasm in stride. “You’re officially Sigma team.”
“Sigma my ass,” Sam muttered. “That’s worse than Beta.”
“Stop complaining.” Everly’s voice came over the line from where she’d been stationed to watch Misty. “Any team is better than sitting here watching paint peel. Their internet sucks.”
“On three.” Roman counted down, and the two teams closed in on the barn with smooth, choreographed precision.
Once they were in position, flanking the barn’s double doors, Ian pulled the bolt cutters from his pack, snapped a link on the chain threaded through the handles, and returned to his position behind Roman.
Roman and Sam held their weapons ready with one hand and slid the other into the handles on the doors.
“On three,” Roman murmured again.
Ian stepped away from the barn wall, his M4 up, his eye focused through the night-vision sight, mirroring Liam.
“Three,” Roman said, “two, one.”
The doors flew open with an unearthly screech. Ian and Liam advanced in unison, sweeping the dark interior. Rodents scurried in every direction as flashes of light darted through the scope.
When no other heat signatures registered, Liam and Ian said, “Clear,” at the same time, then continued through the space, searching for signs of life.