This Is Love, Baby (War & Peace #2)(7)

Shilling nods and relaxes. Slightly.

“Where’s Mr. Winston?” Stark questions, her eyes flitting behind me again as if she’s cataloguing everything in the house.

“He’s not here—went into San Francisco to see a friend,” I say and wave behind me. “But you’re welcome to come inside and have a look around. I can tell you want to. But if you’ll excuse me, I was on my way out.”

When I start to walk over the threshold, Stark stops me. “What’s with the bag, Mr. Thompson? Heading somewhere?”

I nod. “Talked to my mom. I was headed back home to stay with them. At least until I find a job and can get on my feet.”

Stark narrows her eyes at me. “I see. So, Mr. Thompson, you’re telling me you’ve been staying with Mr. Winston this whole time?”

My palms begin to sweat so I make a fist with them. “Yeah.”

“Check it out, Shilling. I’m going to chat with Mr. Thompson for a minute.”

Shilling shoulders past me and begins nosing around the house.

“I gotta tell you, son,” Stark says with a sigh, “I’m awfully curious how, just a few months ago, you acted like Anthony Winston was your enemy—that he was a part of some elaborate scheme to get rid of his daughter—and now you two are roomies? Can you explain that to me?”

I clench my teeth and glare at her. “My opinion of him hasn’t changed. We’d formed a sort of alliance to search for Baylee. Remember her? The missing girl you blew me off about? Plus, he’s been having a hard time since his wife died, and he is my girlfriend’s father. So, I’ve been here because obviously Baylee can’t be. Is that a crime, Detective?”

Her gaze softens and her lips press into a line. “Of course not, Brandon. Actually, that’s what we came here to talk about. Baylee and where she’s been—what she’s been up to. Have you had any contact with her?”

An ache forms in my chest. “No, I haven’t spoken to her.” It’s true. I haven’t heard her sweet voice. Her throaty giggle. The soft way she moans when I kiss her.

Stark lets out a sigh, almost seeming relieved at my words.

“The house appears to be lived in. No signs of a struggle or altercation. There’s nothing here,” Shilling says from behind me.

Stark nods and motions for me to follow her. “Mr. Thompson, we’d like you to come down to the station so we can ask you a few more questions.”

“So ask them now,” I bark out, trying not to seem so eager to get away from them.

Glancing down at my watch, I nearly cringe knowing these people are wasting my time.

“I’d rather do it up at the station. In my office. We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Just a few questions.”

“Questions about what?”

She frowns. “Gabriel Sharpe for one.”

I wince at hearing that *’s name. “I don’t know anything about that stupid f*ck.” But my menacing growl does nothing to conceal my hatred for him.

“Well, that’s not all. I promise, we won’t keep you long. Like I said, the easy way.”

Our eyes meet and I challenge her. “And if I just leave?”

A soft chuckle leaves Shilling as Stark bristles at my question. “Then we do it the hard way. I have my partner here search your bag and if we find anything missing from this home, we’ll haul you in for trespassing and larceny. You could also be charged with aiding and abetting.”

“What?” I bellow out in disbelief. “Aiding and abetting with what?”

She crosses her arms over her chest and stares at me. “With aiding and abetting Baylee Winston in the attempted murder of Warren McPherson.”




I blink at her several times in shock. Surely this woman has lost her goddamned mind. “What the hell are you even talking about? Who the f*ck is Warren McPherson? Baylee was kidnapped. Stolen. She’s not a murderer!”

Stark cocks a dark eyebrow and nods toward the squad car and my truck. “I know the story you’ve told me, and I’d like to believe you, Brandon. That’s why I want to get your statement at the station. We’ll need your help in bringing Baylee in. She’s a person of interest. Any information you might be able to provide will help us in our cause.”

Unf*ckingbelievable.

“This is ridiculous.” I run my fingers through my hair again and curse.

“You can meet us there. How about that? We’ll talk, clear some things up, and then you can be on your way,” she tells me in a placating tone that reminds me of Lynn. Motherly and concerned. “I know you want her back. If she’s innocent, like you claim, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Rage bubbles inside of me.

Now that they think she tried to murder someone, they’re suddenly interested in where the f*ck she went. Not for the near four months that I’ve been going crazy searching for her.

I want to strangle this woman and say, I f*cking told you so.

I want to tell them everything I know about Tony Winston and his psycho best friend, Gabe Sharpe.

I want to tell them how Baylee wouldn’t hurt a soul. She’s an innocent. A motherf*cking victim.

My phone buzzes in my pocket alerting me to a notification from the GPS app that’s tracking Gabe’s movement. I’ve already wasted too much time with these dumbass detectives when I should be stalking where Gabe’s taking her.