No One But You (Silver Springs #2)(60)

“Alex Hardy is coming off as seriously antisocial,” he grumbled as he eyed the cabin-like home beyond the safety of the fence.

“He’s not as unfriendly as you might think,” Sadie said. “He just likes to look tough.”

Dawson could feel her leg against his whenever she moved. They’d swung by her place to get Jayden’s safety seat out of her car, which had been necessary, but seeing the charred side of the house had been difficult for her. She’d barely spoken since. He’d pointed out that the other half of the house looked just fine, that there had to be some things left she could recover, but she hadn’t really responded. She’d just turned her back on the whole sad affair, put Jayden’s safety seat on the passenger side, because it required a shoulder strap, and climbed in next to him.

Fortunately, and sort of surprisingly, given all the signs, the gate to the driveway of Alex Hardy’s place stood open. Dawson pulled in behind a red truck that sported several NRA bumper stickers and one that depicted a woman with bare breasts. “Should we leave Jayden in the truck, just in case?” he asked. “After all the press about me, once this guy recognizes who I am, there’ll be no telling how he might react.”

“He’s not going to do anything.” She unstrapped her son, and they all walked to the front stoop together.

They didn’t have a chance to ring the bell. The door swung wide before they could even reach it.

“Wow. Alex. That was fast,” Sadie said. “Don’t tell me you have motion sensors on the property these days.”

A burly man with a long Duck Dynasty beard and a rifle tattooed on his arm looked out at them. “Not yet. Might get some, though. That’d be cool. I saw you from the window. Who’s this?” He gestured at Dawson.

Sadie started to reply, but Alex cut her off before she could.

“Wait! I recognize you! Saw you on TV. You’re that dude who killed his parents a year or so ago.”

Dawson felt his muscles bunch. No matter how many times he suffered that accusation, it never got any easier. “They were killed, but I didn’t do it,” he said. “That’s why I’m here.”

Alex ignored his response and focused on Sadie. “Since when did you become friends with him?”

“We’re not friends, exactly. Well, we are friends. But we’re more employer/employee.”

“You work for him? What about the restaurant? I just saw you there a few days ago.”

“I’ve still got another week at Lolita’s, but it wasn’t paying me enough, so I had to look elsewhere,” she said. “Dawson has hired me as a caregiver for his sister.”

“Whoa! You’re quitting Lolita’s and working for the Reeds’ son even though we don’t really know... I mean, what does Sly have to say about that?”

“It’s none of Sly’s business.”

“Since when did that ever stop him from getting involved?” he said with a laugh.

“You have a point,” she replied. “He thinks he can weigh in on everything. That he owns this town, owns me. But I’ll deal with it.” She stopped Jayden from trying to slip inside the house to pet the cat that sat watching them with its black tail twitching from side to side. “Listen, Alex. Gage, down at The Blue Suede Shoe, mentioned that someone who put in a bunker for you saw a homeless man fitting the description of the hitchhiker Dawson picked up the night his parents were murdered. Do you remember anything about that?”

“He was from Santa Barbara,” Dawson added, hoping to jog his memory.

“We need to reach him,” Sadie continued, “to see if he can tell us any more about that vagrant—if he talked to him, what his name was, where he was from, where he was heading, if he had any tattoos or other distinguishing characteristics. You know, anything that might help us find him.”

“Really?” Alex said.

Dawson was taken aback by his response. “Really. Why? What do you mean?”

He tugged on his beard as he talked. “You’re looking for a needle in a haystack, man. I don’t even remember the name of the guy who built my bunker. And even if you end up tracking him down, what’re the chances he’s going to remember anything about a bum he saw a year ago?”

“I admit the chances aren’t good,” Dawson said. “But I have to start somewhere, and it’s all I have. I’ll worry about the rest once I get that far. So do you have a receipt or work order or anything else he might’ve signed?” Dawson asked.

“Sorry. Don’t keep crap like that. But the company was called Safety First. I remember because there aren’t a hell of a lot of companies in this area that build bunkers, you hear what I’m saying? Maybe they can tell you the name of the dude they sent out. If you’re real lucky, it might even be that he still works there.”

“We’ll see what we can find.” Dawson lifted Jayden into his arms so that Sadie wouldn’t have to keep him from trying to approach the cat and started back toward the truck.

“Thanks, Alex,” he heard her say.

Although Alex lowered his voice, Dawson could still make out his words. “I know Sly was no picnic, Sadie. I’ve had a couple of run-ins with him myself. But are you sure you haven’t jumped from the frying pan into the fire by moving on to this guy?”