Read Online In the Clear by Tamara Morgan - Free Book Online

theirs were funded either from all public money or all private money. The truth was something a lot less clear-cut than that. “There aren’t any government funds earmarked for small-time search and rescue use, but the sheriff’s office will kick us a perk every now and then. And we certainly take donations when we can get them. But most of the equipment we use—from the ATVs to our packs—comes from our own pockets.”
    “I didn’t know that.” Lexie appeared at his elbow, her hand warm on his arm. Her expression, however, was not. “I guess there are a lot of things we’ve never talked about.”
    He thought maybe she was mad at him, but she brightened and moved to include Henry in the conversation. “Also, I see you’ve met Mr. Barnes. Henry here is the only reason we’ve been able to hire two full-time case managers this year. And he plays Santa every year at the kids’ party. He’s the perfect amount of jolly for the job. You should have seen him last week. There was a line an hour long to sit on his lap—the children adore him. We all do.”
    “Oh, now, I don’t know about that.” Despite his modest words, the man flushed under Lexie’s praise.
    “Well, I do,” Lexie said simply. She turned to Fletcher. “I wish you’d told me sooner that you take donations. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s putting people like you and Henry in touch.”
    “You should probably talk to my Unit Leader.” Fletcher shifted uncomfortably. He hadn’t come here to take advantage of Lexie’s contacts.
    “But how much of your own money would you say you put in every year?” When Fletcher paused, Henry quickly added, “Percentage-wise?”
    Fletcher glanced back and forth between Lexie and Henry, both of them turning expectant looks his way. “It’s hard to say.”
    When it was clear more was required of him, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t put in money. It’s just not, uh, possible on my salary.” Great. Now he looked like a penniless loser—something Lexie obviously knew for herself, but still a terrible thing to have to admit out loud.
    Henry didn’t blink. “What do you put in then? Aside from your time?”
    “And the risk to your life,” Lexie added, looking at him queerly. “I don’t think we should forget that part.”
    Fletcher feigned an intense interest in the palms of his hands, still damp from his foray into public speaking. “Well, the thing is . . . ” He took a deep breath and forced himself to meet Henry’s eyes. He’d just admitted to a crowd of strangers that he was nothing more than a scared little boy who missed his daddy. Surely he could admit that SAR needed all the help it could get.
    “The thing is,” he repeated, “we can always use money for better vehicles. We have a converted RV that serves as our outpost station and two snowmobiles I was able to get at cost from my boss at the car lot, but our storage trailer is decades old and I have my eye on a new transport truck. I’m partway to paying the truck off with my current hours, but it’s still a long ways away. I’m afraid someone else might get to it before I can.”
    Henry nodded and his eyes shifted upward, as if he was doing calculations in his head.
    Fletcher glanced at Lexie to see if he’d blown all his chances at ever being invited to another one of these benefits . . . and stopped.
    “What?” He checked around him for signs of imminent danger—a river cracking open or a door crashing into her face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
    She didn’t speak right away, which only increased the sensation of doom pressing on his chest. “I can’t believe it,” she said slowly. “It’s so obvious now. The trucks, the RV, the rescue stuff. That’s why you work at the car lot. You get a discount.”
    As it was neither a question nor a statement, his only available response was a low-throated rumble.
    “You hate that place, Fletcher, and you have since the day you