Free Hold Your Breath (Search and Rescue) by Katie Ruggle Page A

the nearest veterans’ hospital? Or maybe a VFW or something?”
    He sipped his coffee, considering.
    “I like your idea about the VA hospital, but how are you planning on getting any information? With HIPA, they won’t give out patient information to random people.”
    Making a face, she admitted, “You’re right. I hadn’t thought it out that far.” She rested her chin on her cupped hand, her elbow propped on the counter, and thought. “So we probably won’t get any information from the staff, but what about the other patients?”
    He nodded slowly. “The VA hospital in Denver is probably too large for that to work, but the closest VA outpatient clinic is in Connor Springs, just about twenty miles from here. Want to take a field trip?”
    “Yes!” Bouncing up onto her toes, she restrained the urge to flip the sign in the window to “Closed,” lock the coffee shop door, and head to Connor Springs that very moment. Reality intruded, and she sighed, lowering back down to her heels. “I’m off tomorrow—would you be able to get away from work?” As the team leader, Callum was the only paid staff member on the dive team. From what Lou saw, he earned every penny of his paycheck, often working twelve-hour days dealing with local board members and still taking calls at night.
    “Yes. Board meeting’s tomorrow evening, so my morning will be free. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
    Wiggling around in a tight circle, she did a little dance of excitement. “Field trip!”
    When she finished her final rotation, Lou realized that Callum was watching her, frozen with his travel mug halfway to his mouth. With a shake of his head, he pushed off of his stool and headed out the door.
    “Don’t you want me to top off your coffee for you?” she called after him, but the only answer she received was the wordless clang of the bells against the door.
    * * *
    She stared at the green leaf lettuce as if it had done something to offend her.
    “Six dollars,” she muttered under her breath, eyeing the wilting tips of the leaves balefully. “Not worth it.”
    With a sigh, she poked around in the stack of lettuce bunches before giving up on greens. As she walked to the measly display of apples, she knew she had no one to blame for her lack of fresh produce except herself. If she had sucked it up and gone to Denver that morning, she wouldn’t be poking through expensive and unappealing vegetables and fruit at the local grocery store.
    She hated driving to Denver with a passion, though. Too many people, too much traffic, too…everything. Plus, if the weather took a turn for the worse, she could get stuck there overnight, which meant her woodstove would go out, and her pipes could freeze. Lou found she could get away with ordering almost everything she needed online, but fresh food remained a challenge. When she’d lived in Connecticut, she’d never considered fresh vegetables a luxury. The difference between her former life and current existence boggled her mind sometimes. She couldn’t believe it’d only been seven months since she’d escaped to the mountains.
    Roaming the aisles with little enthusiasm, she was examining an on-sale jar of bread-and-butter pickles when her nose twitched. There was a nasty smell floating her way—body odor and pot, mostly, mixed with patchouli. She turned her head and immediately identified the source. Smelly Jim. Of course. The bearded man was an occasional coffee shop visitor, requiring a cappuccino and, once he left, half a spray bottle of cinnamon air freshener and the windows open for as long as possible before the customers started complaining about the cold.
    “Hey, Jim.” Lou took a casual step back, as if to get a wide-angle look at the pickle selection.
    His head whipped around, and he glared at her suspiciously for a long moment before his expression finally cleared. “Lou. Hey.”
    “How’re things?” she asked.
    He paused again, although not quite as long this time.