Chapter 11
Library Card
WES
Iam now the proud owner of a library card.
I haven’t had one of those since I was a kid, but Callie hooked me up and sent me home with three different baking-related coffee table books.
Did I need to go find her at her place of work to ask my simple question? No.
Did I even need her to answer the question when I have the phone records at my fingertips? Also no.
But I got to see Callie Callahan in her insanely hot librarian getup. Fuck me. I wanted to reach over and pull her to me by her braided bun and push the sexy as hell cardigan off her shoulders and—
Deep breaths, dude. I slide into my car and deposit the library books on my passenger seat.
Wherever he is, Shane must be using a burner phone. I got into his records and saw the one phone call to Callie’s number two and a half weeks ago, just like she said. That was the last phone call from his number.
The other option is he’s dead. Which is possible, of course, especially in his line of business.
I’ve searched for other evidence that Shane is in Boston and haven’t found any. However, I did get into an online chatroom where they were talking about a fight club. There aren’t that many, so it’s likely the same one.
I’ll keep working on it. I don’t want to make any moves until I have more information. I’ll get into Shane’s bank accounts and spend more time finding loose threads like social media, but something tells me he’s disappeared. For now.
Found you. That’s what I said when I located Callie within the library.
I’m an ass. The look on her face was horrified.
Terrified? But maybe also kind of into it?
I’m a terrible reader of women, obviously, and I’ve learned to assume that everything I do is creepy to them.
Especially showing up where I haven’t been invited.
I speed up on the road out of Portland. I cannot believe Shane screwed things up with Callie.
He didn’t even seem to have good intentions to begin with.
He tricked her, made her fall for him, then pulled her into his sticky, rotten web.
If I could get a woman like that to marry me, I’d do everything humanly possible to get her to stay. And maybe some inhumane things as well.
“Fuck.” I hit the steering wheel with my palm. I’m getting out of control, and it’s been four days since I met her.
But I already need more.