Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
CALLIE
My nerves are still fried from leaving the station not so long ago. I really don’t want to go back, but this is information the cops need. My stomach churns as we push through the station doors. I swipe my palms against my jeans, trying to wipe away the nervous sweat.
Knox’s hand finds the small of my back, a gentle pressure that steadies me. “You got this, Alley cat.”
The pet name sends warmth through my chest, but worry and fear still nag at me. This information isn’t a magic bullet. But it’s something. Hopefully, it’s enough to get the guys off.
“Back so soon?” Trina strides toward us, forehead lining in confusion.
“Jesus, guys.” Antonio shakes his head like a disappointed father. “Are you all planning on renting out a room?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I actually need to tell you something about Theo.”
The light atmosphere evaporates faster than morning dew. Both officers’ expressions shift into serious cop mode.
Antonio runs a hand over his face. “Follow me.”
We start moving toward the back of the station, but Trina holds up a hand when the guys step forward.
“Nope. Just Callie.”
“Like hell.” Jax’s voice is hard and stubborn. “We’re coming with her.”
“This isn’t a democracy, Williams.” Trina’s tone brooks no argument. “If Callie has something to tell us, she can tell us alone.”
Maybe they think the guys are influencing me to say something to get them off.
Knox’s jaw ticks, and tension radiates off all three of them. My chest tightens. I want to reach for them, to tell them it’s okay, but instead I square my shoulders. They’ll fight to stay with me if I don’t stop them.
“I’ll be fine.” The words come out steadier than I feel. “Just stay here, okay?”
Brax searches my face, fingers curling into a fist, like he’s stopping himself from grabbing me and hauling me against his chest. “We’ll be right here when you’re done.
” His brothers relent, deciding it’s better to agree than continue to fight.
That will only end up with them in a cell for picking a fight with an officer.
The interrogation room is depressing. Beige walls, metal table, chairs that have seen better decades. I slide into the seat facing the two-way mirror, my reflection staring back at me with wide, worried eyes.
Trina settles across from me while Antonio leans against the wall, arms crossed. The silence stretches for exactly three seconds before my mouth decides to take matters into its own hands.
“I think Theo was mixed up with loan sharks.” The words tumble out in a rush.
“He kept getting these texts that would make him all jumpy and paranoid. And toward the end of our relationship, before I left the city, he was being so sketchy about money. Always checking his bank account, always nervous about something. He had this art show. My art show, actually, since he stole all my work.” I pause to suck in a breath, realizing I’ve been word-vomiting all over them.
Trina’s pen scratches across her notepad while Antonio studies me like he’s taking my measure.
Trina looks up from her notes. “Did you see any of these texts?”
“I saw a few. They were pretty threatening. Basically give us the money or else. He told me it was a scam. I believed him, but the messages kept coming. He was adamant that it was nothing, but he’d kind of freak out every time he got a message.” I lean forward, desperate for them to understand.
“Two guys came into The Bar the other night looking for him, too.”
“What did they look like?”
I do my best to describe them and Trina jots down more notes while I continue to ramble. “Look, Theo was a pretentious asshole. He pissed people off all the time, and if these people killed him—”
The rest of my sentence hangs in the air. Antonio and Trina exchange one of those wordless cop looks that I can’t read. Do they trust what I’m telling them? Do they think the guys set me up to say all this?
“Well?” The word explodes out of me. I’d never act like this with cops I didn’t know, but I’ve known these two forever. “Are you going to look into it or what?”
“We’ll look into it.” Trina’s voice is carefully neutral, but something flickers across her face. “His phone was missing.”
Antonio pushes off the wall, moving closer to the table. “Which supports the theory about someone wanting to eliminate evidence.”
“So maybe the loan sharks took the evidence, but you can pull phone records, right?” I grip the edge of the table so hard my knuckles go white. “I swear, Trina. I think he was being hunted by people he owed debts to. They’re the murderers. Not the guys. Do you really think they’d kill someone?”
Trina closes her notepad with a sharp snap. “Callie, I think those men would do anything to protect you.”
I bite my cheek to keep from arguing with her. The truth is, she’s not wrong. The guys are super protective. But I know them. “They didn’t do this.”
She twists her lips to the side. She’s not convinced. Not yet.
“Just look into the messages, okay?”
With a heavy exhale, she nods. “We will. Thank you for the information, we appreciate you sharing it.”
“But?” There’s definitely a ‘but’ coming.
“But we’re going to need you and the guys to stick around town for a while. Don’t make any travel plans.”
My stomach drops. They still think we’re involved somehow, or at least they can’t rule us out.
The logical part of my brain knows we’re all innocent, that we have nothing to hide.
But the rest of me, the part that remembers being that wild, trouble-making teenager, feels like I’m seventeen again and getting hauled in for shoplifting.
“Fine.” I stand up on unsteady legs. “We’re not going anywhere anyway.” I’m done running, and the guys are innocent. There’s nothing to hide. I only wish the cops could see that.
Trina walks me to the door, her expression softer now. “Callie? Be careful, okay? If you’re right about the loan sharks, they could be dangerous.”
I nod and push through the door back into the main area. My guys are sitting on a bench, and they jump to their feet when they see me.
Knox reaches me first, his hands framing my face as he searches my expression. “You okay?”
“Peachy.” I force a smile that probably looks as fake as it feels. “Can you take me home?”
“To your mom’s or?” Brax asks.
“Your house,” I tell them. I love my parents, but right now, I want to go home and be with the guys because part of me is terrified that they’ll get arrested again.
Waiting sucks.
It’s been three days since the guys were taken in for questioning, and we haven’t heard jack shit from the police. I know, logically, that no news is probably good news, but my anxiety doesn’t give a shit about logic.
I lean back in the porch swing, watching the guys work on Knox’s truck.
Nothing was broken, but their nervous energy manifested into replacing the oil, putting on new belts.
Anything and everything that could be worked on to keep them busy.
The engine hood is up, Jax’s legs stick out from underneath, and Brax holds a wrench while Knox points at something that’s apparently in desperate need of their attention.
A light breeze coasts over my skin. I breathe in the fresh, wooden air. The scene should be relaxing, but I can’t shake the knot in my stomach. I don’t think I’ll be able to relax until this is all far behind us.
The sound of tires makes us all freeze. I set my glass down and move toward the railing, squinting at the approaching car. It’s a navy-blue sedan and as it gets closer, my heart skips.
My dad and mom climb out of the car. Mom’s face is pinched and there’s fire in her eyes. She’s ready to tear someone a new one and I’ll give you one guess as to who it is.
“Shit,” I mutter.
Knox drops his wrench with a clank and glances over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Not really. I rub my forehead. “I haven’t exactly filled them in on the whole murder interrogation situation.”
All three guys exchange looks. They know as well as I do how Mom gets. Brax wipes his hands on a shop rag, Jax rolls out from under the truck, and Knox straightens to his full height. They’re bracing for impact, too.
“Callie Mae Harrison!” Mom’s voice carries across the yard like a battle cry.
Oh, I’m in deep shit. Full name means I’m about to get my ass handed to me. “Hey, Mom,” I call innocently.
“Don’t you hey me,” she hisses.
“Should we head inside?” Knox doesn’t bother waiting for an answer.
He marches up the stairs, squeezes my shoulder as he passes, and opens the door.
I dip inside before Mom can protest, mentally preparing for the storm that’s about to hit.
Mom marches through the door with Dad trailing behind her, and the look on her face could curdle milk.
“Would someone like to explain why I had to hear from Dolores that my daughter and you boys were taken in for questioning about not one but two murders?” Her voice climbs higher with each word.
“Murders, Callie! And here I’ve been wondering why you haven’t called me back or come home for dinner, turns out you were murdering people! ”
“We weren’t murdering anyone,” I say in a rush.
She huffs. “I know that, but Callie—” She cuts off. Mom’s eyes are getting watery, and seeing her upset makes my heart ache.
“Mom—”
“Don’t you ‘Mom’ me.” She points a finger at all four of us. “How could you not tell me? How could you let me find out from the town gossip that someone is trying to pin murders on you?”
Dad moves behind her and wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. The sight of my tough-as-nails Mom leaning on him for support breaks my heart. Usually she can brush things off. She’s always so laid back, but the fear on her face is an echo of my own.
God, I can only imagine how much she’s been worrying since she found out. I rush to her, throwing my arms around both my parents. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so, so sorry. I should have told you sooner.”