Burn It Up(40)

“Talking to Ware is still the most direct route to getting this shit resolved,” Casey went on. “I sure wish I’d taken down his goddamn number when I gave him mine.”

“Could he have the same one from before he went downstate?” Miah asked, looking to Abilene.

She shrugged. “Even if he did, I don’t have it anymore.”

“Vince might,” Casey said.

“Maybe.” But doubtful. The men had met in prison and spoken only during visiting hours these past few months. As unlikely as the prospect now seemed, they might just have to wait for Ware to call, or else go in search of him around town.

“One good thing,” Casey offered, “is that he didn’t appear armed, right? He ran. Didn’t pull anything on you.”

Miah nodded. “That’s true.” Maybe Ware hadn’t come with entirely malicious intent; perhaps merely with a stalker’s agenda, wanting to confirm that Abilene was indeed at the ranch. With her car in the shop, spotting her through a window would be the man’s only chance to do so. Still, no rational person could look at this situation and tell himself that stalking was the best course of action. Hell, the psycho could’ve f*cking knocked.

“My dad’s going to get the security cameras turned back on tonight,” Miah told Abilene. “They’re hooked up to motion-sensor lights, but don’t panic if it goes bright outside in the middle of the night—could easily be the barn cats or a coyote or any other thing. Just tell me or Case and we’ll go out and investigate. Okay?”

“Sounds good.” Sounds terrifying, her expression corrected.

“Anyhow, not much we can do for the moment.”

“Except wait for him to call,” Casey said.

Miah nodded. “Yeah. There’s always that.”

Casey eyed Miah’s beer. “You done with work for the night?”

“Believe it or not.”

“Would you do me a favor? Hang with these two for ten minutes while I grab a shower?”

“Sure. And I checked with my dad—I can handle things here in the morning while you run your errands.” Casey had texted that afternoon to ask about it. “Only until about eight, though.”

“That’s fine—I just need to catch Vince before he goes to work, then swing by the post office. Thanks. And for this shower,” he added. “It’s in everybody’s best interest, I promise.” He grabbed his bag from beside the couch and headed back upstairs to the guest wing, leaving Miah alone with the ladies.

He couldn’t help but notice the way Abilene’s gaze followed Casey up the steps, and prayed it was innocent apprehension at watching her bodyguard disappearing out of sight. He loved his friend, but the last thing this girl needed was to develop feelings for Fortuity’s prodigal son. Kid had come a long way since he’d skipped town, and he was a step up from James Ware, no doubt, but he wasn’t exactly ready to take on the commitment this girl would require.

Still, far be it from Miah to tell anybody how to conduct their love lives.

I’ll do my damnedest to keep her safe from one criminal, but if she’s got it bad for Casey, that’s straight-up above my pay grade.

? ? ?

At five thirty the next morning, Casey woke to the buzz of his cell in his jeans pocket.

He was in Abilene’s bed, and he’d worn pants to sleep for two very good reasons—so his phone’s alarm wouldn’t wake anybody, and so he wouldn’t get any more reckless ideas, pressed up against the girl in his shorts. And he was pressed up against her. Had been all night, except for when the opposite had been true, and she’d been hugging her warm body to his back, her breasts pressing gently with every breath. She’d dropped off the second they’d settled in, but Casey had probably lain there for two hours, caught in a calm persuasion of restlessness, pinned as always, lately, in some territory that lay between protective and horny. And since he’d run into Ware, the former seemed to have only ignited the latter. Still, no time to panic about what had gone down, this time—they’d both agreed, it was what it was, and nothing more. He’d made her absolutely zero promises, so he had no worries about breaking any. Plus overthinking it all was a luxury he didn’t have this morning.

He eased the covers away, slid his arm out from under hers. February had never felt so damn cold as it did just now, leaving this bed.

Thirty minutes later, he was parking his bike a couple blocks down the street from his mom’s house. Maybe it was naive, his hoping Ware didn’t already know where his family lived, but why take the chance?

He didn’t like this feeling. He’d experienced plenty of paranoia in his old line of work, but back then it had come bundled up with adrenaline. It had been pleasurable, in a way, that fear of getting caught. But there was too much at stake now, way more than just his own skin.

He grabbed the LifeMap package out of his cargo box and walked up the road.

Vince left for work at six thirty, so the kitchen light was on, predictably. Casey knocked at the side door and Vince pulled it in, nodding a greeting.

“Morning, cocksucker. Ready to get swabbed?” Casey heard the TV droning in the den, and no surprise—his mom was up at five and asleep by nine, every goddamn day like a rule of physics. Kim must’ve still been in bed.

Vince eyed the box as Casey opened it and set three clear cups on the kitchen table. Kind of like extra-narrow prescription bottles, with a plastic-sealed, one-ended Q-tip-looking thing inside, and a label printed with a barcode and each of their first names—Casey, Vincent, Deirdre.