Chapter 21
The next afternoon, before the end of the work day, Jules accompanied Cal as he brought Pilot out with them to the parking lot of Red Grove Food Distributors, warrant in hand.
He led Pilot to the rusty white truck they’d seen Chase Hamilton driving and held Zoey’s hair band for his dog to sniff.
He gave the command for Pilot to search for anything that smelled like the hair band, and Pilot got to work.
Jules held her breath as Pilot made his way around the tires, tracking to another vehicle briefly before returning to the white truck. The Labrador circled the truck twice before pawing at the passenger-side door.
“Good boy,” Cal said before employing a thin rod to pop the lock and open the truck door.
Pilot jumped into the truck and sniffed around the seats, under the seats and finally pawed at the glove box.
With gloved hands, Cal opened the compartment and pushed Pilot’s eager head out of the way to pluck out a green and yellow scrunchie.
“Bingo,” he said, dropping the scrunchie in an evidence bag.
“Now can we arrest him?” Jules asked.
Cal gave Pilot a reward for his good work and closed the truck door as the dog climbed out. “We can certainly bring him in for questioning, at least.”
Jules sighed her relief. Was she finally going to see progress in Chase’s capture and conviction?
“So do we go after him, or wait here, or what?” A renewed energy pumped through her, and she shifted her weight to her toes, restless and ready to move out and hunt down her prey.
“We don’t do anything.” He clipped Pilot’s lead back on the dog’s collar and started back to his Jeep. “You’re not law enforcement, so at this point you are out. I’ll deal with Wyatt and the drug task force to negotiate how and when Hamilton is brought in.”
“Wait. What? You’re not going to stick around now and arrest him when he comes back to his truck?” She stopped in her tracks and gaped at Cal. “We have proof he broke into the Rogers’ house and stole Zoey’s hair band! Why are you hesitating?”
“We have a band that looks like the one Zoey described, but we haven’t proven it is Zoey’s.
I’m taking it back to the crime lab to test for her DNA, a matching hair or fingerprints.
Something ironclad to tell us it is Zoey’s and not a look alike he bought.
Then we have to prove he broke in to take it and didn’t just find it lying on the ground at the ballpark. ”
Jules curled her fingers in her hair and let loose a frustrated howl that made Pilot startle. “Why are you making this so hard? We know it’s Zoey’s! We know he took it.”
“No, we assume it’s Zoey’s and that he took it, but we need proof that will hold up in court.” When he continued across the street to the lot where he’d parked his Jeep, she stalked after him, seething.
“You are the most infuriating man I have ever met, Callum Colton.”
He pressed a hand to his chest and smiled. “Why, thank you.”
That he could act so calm and dismiss her jibes so easily only irritated her more. “I’m so glad I amuse you. Can we please just—”
She didn’t get a chance to finish what she was saying. Cal’s face darkened, and he grabbed her arm. She gasped as he pulled her forward and behind the nearest parked car, dragging her down as he tugged Pilot close and crouched at the back fender.
“What the h—”
“Shhh.” He pressed a finger to his lips, then aimed it across the street where a silver SUV slowly cruised by then disappeared from view as it continued down the street, beyond a stand of trees.
Her heart was already thumping wildly from anger, then alarm, when he’d yanked her behind the car. Now, she exhaled heavily and sat down hard on the pavement, her legs gone weak. “That was the drug dealer’s car, wasn’t it? The one we saw him talking to a few days ago?”
“Yeah. Pretty sure.” He didn’t rise from their hiding spot but pivoted on his toes to face her. “Sorry I jerked you down like that, but I don’t want anyone in the local drug market to have any reason to remember you or associate you with anything suspicious.”
She raked her sweat-dampened hair back from her face and nodded. “It’s okay. You just…startled me.”
“You okay then? I didn’t hurt you?”
She gave him a wry look. “It takes more than a tug on the arm to injure me. I’ve survived a lot worse and lived to tell the tale.”
He frowned. “That’s a story I’d like to hear someday if you’re willing.”
Jules snorted a laugh and cocked her head. “You have a thing for tales of woe, Colton? Isn’t that kinda macabre?”
“What I have a thing for is you,” he said gently, his hand moving to her cheek. “And I want to know more about you—the good, the bad and the history of whatever and whomever hurt you in the past.”
A shiver raced through her despite the July heat.
“Come on,” he said, releasing Pilot’s collar and offering her a hand up. “Coast is clear. Let’s get this evidence back to the office before Hamilton or that SUV sees us.”
Jules dusted grit from her knees, hating that despite what she considered proof of Hamilton’s menace to society, they were walking away without putting the man in handcuffs.
“I still want to look Chase in the eye and confront him with what we know about him stalking Zoey. I want him to know that what he did to Abby hasn’t been forgotten and—”
She stopped abruptly, noticing a familiar figure leaving the distributor building and approaching his white truck. And something inside her snapped.
Her body taut with loathing and frustration, she started marching back across the street toward Chase Hamilton.
“Jules!” Cal hissed in a stage whisper. “Stop!”
But adrenaline and indignation raged in her blood. She trembled with it, thinking of Abby’s breakdown, the fear in Zoey’s eyes…
“Hey!” she called, her tone dark and angry.
Chase looked up at her, but only for a second. Instead, his gaze shifted to the silver SUV that, with a screech of tires, wheeled around the corner and raced toward them.