No Perfect Hero(101)

“One, he’s the only other man who was involved with Jenna and deployed with us,” I say, counting off my fingers. “Two, he’s been watching me damn close ever since I came home. Even caught me bugging Bress’ car, trying like hell to divert me from him. Three, Bress is in some dirty business, proven, but something isn’t adding up.”

The whole car is quiet. My brain burns, hurts as it strings together the fucked up possibilities.

We hit the road, needing a distraction.

“I tracked him leaving town, going to the site where he was filmed with a supplier. Except at the time I thought I was tracking him, Stewart had my GPS unit. So it may have been Stew himself. But why was he going somewhere I know Bress has been seen? And four...” I take a deep breath. “He’s the only one other than Haley I’ve confided my plans to. I haven’t told him everything, but I had to explain the GPS, why I was stalking Bress.”

“So what we have,” Doc says thoughtfully, “is the only person in Heart’s Edge beyond us with complete insight into you, Warren. Your suspects, your plans, and movements.”

Blake shakes his head ferociously. “I just...goddammit, we served together!”

His eyes bug out. I see Doc tense, the same as me.

We're all feeling the same hellish dagger tearing through our chests and reacting.

“You sure about this, War? You said Bress was into bad business. Thought he was for years and just proved it recently. So maybe he did kill Jenna. Maybe one of his criminal buddies took care of him before you could. That'd make a lot more sense than Stew.”

I nod. “It's possible. That's why I’m tail-spinning so much right now. I don’t want to pick up the wrong lead and spend another decade chasing a dead end. There are just too many damn open questions.”

Doc rubs his chin. “Have you considered the possibility that Haley might be your missing key?”

“My key?” I shake my head. “What're you talking about?”

“Who's taken an interest in her since she showed up in town, joined at your hip, Warren? Who's been using her to get to you – or to throw you off?”

“Don’t,” I snarl with a vehemence that startles even me. “It’s not fucking possible, so don’t even try it.”

I know the answer to his question. One person. But the possibility that's proof is so hideous it makes my guts wrench.

Blake whistles softly. “Somebody’s head over heels.”

“Yeah. I have feelings. And once I get this sorted, I’ll get that fixed too. But let's take that option off the table right now. Hay made me a little distracted. She didn't make me stupid, blind, or deaf.”

Doc holds up a hand in a peace offering. “My apologies.”

With a frown, Blake leans back again. “Speaking of Hay...she gonna be okay with us gone?”

“Should be. I left her with Grandma, and nobody fucks with Wilma Ford. Let me call, though.” I dig my phone from my pocket and tap Haley’s number—the newest entry in my address book, that little selfie, and damn I must be in love when just her thumbnail makes my blood heat.

But not nearly as hot as it gets when I call her...and after five rings, it goes to voicemail.

What the hell? It’s mid-afternoon. She wouldn’t be at Brody’s or asleep. I shake my head and pull up my Grandma's contact. “No answer.”

“She may be busy,” Doc offers neutrally. “A young lady has a life.”

“So busy she can’t pick up when she knows I’m a semi-wanted man?”

Doc arches a brow. “It might be to your distinct disadvantage to answer a call from you with Sheriff Langley no doubt grilling her.”

“Fair point,” I grunt, but then let out an explosive sigh of relief when, after a couple of rings, my grandmother picks up.

“Charming Inn,” she says pleasantly, but there’s something tight in her voice.

“Hey, Grandma,” I say. “Is Haley around? Could you tell her to pick up her cell? It’s urgent.”

“Haley?” That tightness in her voice deepens. “Oh dear. I haven’t seen her in hours, Warren. Her or Tara. I’ve looked, I’ve called...nothing.”

That nothing hits me like a damn brick to the face.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I wasn’t certain I could. You're a person of interest,” she says tartly. “But I was just getting into the car to go look for her.”

“Don’t! I mean, stay put.”

“Don’t you take that tone with me, young man.”

“I’m sorry. Sorry, this is urgent, just—when was the last time you saw her?”

“She was off looking for Tara.” Grandma Wilma’s voice softens. “The poor girl went missing. We looked all over the grounds, inside the house, and she was nowhere. Then Stewart called, said the little imp walked all the way to the garage to pick up some pencils she’d left in the car during the last maintenance spree. Haley went to fetch her.”

Stewart.

Again.

Goddamn. Just the sound of his name makes my entire body stiff. Sickness runs up and down my spine with diseased fingers, and my lungs fill with cement.

I know this feeling.

It’s Jenna all over again, and I’m afraid the next time I see Hay, it'll be exactly the same.