"No. I just cracked the door when I couldn't hear you snoring anymore."
"I don't snore," Jo snapped.
Bricker grinned and shrugged. "Okay, I cracked the door when I couldn't hear your very loud snorting, snuffling breathing as you slept."
"Ha ha," Jo muttered.
"Do you want a coffee?" Sam asked, getting up to retrieve a cup for her from the cupboard.
"Yes, please, but I'll get it," Jo muttered, moving to meet her at the coffeepot. She murmured a "Thanks" as she took the cup from Sam. "Where's Alex? Not up yet?"
"Oh yes. She was up and out of here early," Sam said, returning to the table.
"What?" Jo whirled to gape at her with horror. "She was supposed to drive me home."
"I know, but I told her I would," Sam said soothingly.
Jo frowned and leaned against the counter, her eyes moving warily from Bricker to Mortimer as she lifted the cup to take a sip. She stiffened when Bricker suddenly moved toward her, but he merely opened the cupboard door beside her and retrieved a small bottle that rattled as he plucked it from the shelf.
"What's that?" Jo asked when he offered it to her.
"Pills Sam had me pick up for her the last time she had a headache," Bricker said, opening his palm for her to read the label.
Jo accepted the pills slowly, her narrowed eyes searching his face. "How did you know—?"
"You have that same squinty-eyed look Sam gets when she has a headache," he said with amusement.
"God, you're a charmer this morning, aren't you?" Jo said dryly, making an effort to remove the "squinty-eyed look" from her face. "I don't remember you being this insulting when we first met."
Bricker grinned. "Yeah, but you're practically family now. At least you're Sam's family, and she's like family now."
"Great," Jo muttered, setting down her coffee to open the pills. When she struggled with the chore, Bricker plucked the bottle away and opened it for her, forcing her to mutter another "Thanks" as he shook out a couple of pills and handed them over. She picked up her coffee and swigged down some with the pills as Bricker resealed the bottle and put it away. She then glanced to the table to see Sam and Mortimer still watching her. Sam was biting her lip as if there was something she wanted to say, but Mortimer was looking a bit wary.
"Do you want some breakfast?" Sam asked finally.
Jo shook her head, and then winced at the pain the action sent shooting through her skull. She must have bruised her brain or something last night when she hit the wall, Jo thought with disgust, and wondered if you could bruise your brain. It certainly felt tender this morning.
"No… thanks," she said. "I'd really rather just head home."
"I'll get my keys," Sam said, getting up at once.
"Why bother?" Jo asked. "Why not just let the guys that are supposed to watch me take me home. They can watch me up close then."
A moment of silence passed as Sam glanced to Mortimer. He stared at Jo with narrowed eyes for a minute, but then shrugged and said to Sam, "It will save you a trip, and that way I'll not have to worry about you." Before Sam could comment, he glanced to Bricker and said, "Anders is in the garage fee—having a drink."
"I'll get him and one of the SUVs and pick you up out front," Bricker told Jo, and moved toward the door leading into the backyard.
"I'll get my bag," Jo said, and set down her cup with relief. She'd be out of there soon… and with her memory still intact as far as she could tell.
"Jo?" Sam said, standing to follow as she headed out of the kitchen.
Jo slowed, but didn't stop as she started up the hall toward the backpack she'd left by the front door. "Yeah?"
Sam scooted to catch up with her, taking her hand as she reached the front entry and drawing her to a halt.
Jo turned, her gaze sliding up the hall to see with relief that Mortimer hadn't followed. Shifting her gaze back to her sister, she raised her eyebrow.
Sam hesitated and then asked, "Are we all right?"
Jo raised her other eyebrow now. "Why wouldn't we be?"
Sam wrinkled her nose and sighed. "I know this is probably all weird and incomprehensible to you, and—to be frank—I'm amazed you aren't asking a ton of questions about what happened last night, and—"
"Would they be answered?" Jo interrupted quietly, and when Sam peered at her blankly, explained, "If I asked questions about last night, would they be answered?"
Sam bit her lip, but then dropped the uncertainty that was so odd coming from her and admitted bluntly, "No."
"That's what I thought," she said dryly. Besides, Jo suspected asking questions might lead to losing the memories she'd managed to regain. She wasn't sure why she thought that was so, but had decided to go with her instincts, keep her questions to herself, and get out of there.