5. Hunter
Hunter
Out of all the emotions in the human psyche, jealousy might be my least favorite.
“You okay over there, man?” Adam asks from across the table. “You look like someone shit in your Cheerios.”
I blink and look up from my phone. “Yeah, I’m good.”
He rolls his eyes, so I kick his chair leg, refusing to be dragged into a confessional.
Ever since yesterday, I haven’t been able to focus on much except Sutton’s stupid dating profile. My phone feels like a ten-pound brick in my pocket. I almost caved to my curiosity and downloaded the app but realized stalking doesn’t look good on anyone.
Betty’s Diner is pretty quiet this morning. The approaching storm making the weather colder seems to be keeping folks indoors. Chris is getting his yearly physical completed at the clinic next door, which worked out great to meet the guys for breakfast.
Luke clears his throat, and my gut tells me he’s about to grill me whether I like it or not.
“What?” I stare at him over the rim of my mug.
His eyes narrow. “My guess is your ray of sunshine attitude might have something to do with a certain sister of mine?”
“How is Sutton doing?” Vinnie asks. “Feels like I haven’t seen anyone since we got back from our trip.”
At the mention of Colorado, I close my eyes and take a steadying breath. I can’t think about that right now.
Adam shovels half a stack of pancakes into his mouth. “That might also be because of the new girl you’re seeing,” he says around a mouthful of pancake. “What’s her name? Holly?”
“She’s not new,” Vinnie says. “Holly is Mr. and Mrs. Weeks’ daughter. She’s been going to school in New York and just moved back after graduating.” Vinnie gets this look on his face.
We all stare at him.
“What?” he says, fingers drumming away on the table.
I ask, “What happened to Hayden?”
Vinnie thought for sure he’d met the love of his life in Colorado. He couldn’t stop talking about how perfect and wonderful Hayden was. That’s the thing about Vinnie. The man has a huge heart and wears it on his sleeve for everyone to see.
He takes a deep breath and says, “Last I heard, she’s doing great but isn’t too focused on dating at the moment.” He sips his drink. “Now enough about me. What’s this I hear about Sutton throwing her hat in the dating ring?”
Every time I hear it, I feel a punch to my heart. I haven’t found the words to broach the topic with her yet. Not that it would matter much, figuring we’re still radio silent.
I know I should, but with everything going on for her at work, I don’t want to rock her boat any more than it already is. And I’m afraid if I do, I’ll ruin the small progress we are making.
Luke sits back, resting his foot across his thigh. “Hunter, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but when are you going to stop dicking around and ask her out?”
“That’s what I told him yesterday,” Chris says, appearing out of nowhere.
I try to hide my flinch, not used to being caught off guard. I really need to figure everything out with Sutton and get my head on straight. My entire career depends on my observational skills, which have been foggy since Sutton and I shared that moment in the hotel room.
Chris walks to the back of the diner and kisses his grandma Betty’s cheek. Betty, the owner and namesake of the diner, pats his hand and sends him to our table.
“I’m working on whatever it is between Sutton and me, okay?” I say.
“Bro.” Adam levels me with a stare. “You haven’t been working on shit when it comes to that woman except playing the role of boyfriend without actually being her boyfriend.”
Forks screech across plates, and an “oh shit” sounds somewhere nearby.
Each word hits me square in the chest.
“He’s not wrong,” Luke says, and the others nod with him.
“Look, I love my sister. She’s one of the greatest women in my life.
But even I can see that she uses you as some kind of emotional support blanket.
At some point, y’all need to either decide to be together or you need to allow yourself to actually find someone who wants to be found. ”
Heat crawls up the back of my neck.
Luke doesn’t mean anything by it. I’m sure if he knew the truth about what Sutton has been dealing with these last six years, he might have chosen more delicate words.
But deep down, I also know there’s truth to it.
Sutton and I have always treated each other as confidants. When her dad got sick and her relationship wasn’t going well, she depended on me as an emotional partner even more.
Then, in a matter of weeks, her entire life imploded.
I wasn’t about to let her drift endlessly in an ocean of pain and grief, so I became her anchor. Someone she could tell everything to, who would listen and be there when she needed it.
I guess I never imagined that might be all I’d ever be for her.
“Like I said yesterday,” Chris says, reaching across the table for the syrup, “it’s now or never.”
Just then, a dispatch from Luke’s radio breaks through the din of the restaurant. Luke, Adam, and Vinnie drop everything, grab their coats, and head to the fire truck parked outside.
“Put it on our tab, Betty,” Luke says.
Betty smiles and waves to them.
As the door closes, Luke shouts to me, “It’s time, Hunter.”
He’s right. It’s time to make these rumors a reality.
I pull my phone from my pocket and click on Sutton’s name, just one button away from calling and confronting her right this second.
But I quickly shove my phone back into my pocket.
I don’t get the luxury of figuring us out right now.
Plus, this is something that needs to be done face-to-face, not through a screen she can hide behind.
Chris clears his throat. “I was thinking we should go check out the house on Magnolia Road again. Sure, we didn’t find anything the other night, but there’s that house across the street. You know, the little blue one?”
I nod, remembering. “Yeah, what of it? Pretty sure it was abandoned too.”
Chris wipes his mouth and sets his plate aside. “Maybe, but do you remember seeing boxes on the front porch?”
I nod.
“Kind of odd that an abandoned house would be getting deliveries, right?”
My fork pauses halfway to my mouth. The same uneasy feeling I had when Chief mentioned the place creeps over me.
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “Yeah, it is.”
Chris is already standing, anticipating my next move. “Not like we’ve got anything else to go on.”
I toss a couple bills on the table and grab my jacket. “Let’s go take another look.”
I grip the wheel as the SUV rattles down Magnolia Road, eyes scanning the cracked asphalt and overgrown lawns. Chris scans each house as we pass.
The tip we got from an anonymous call earlier in the week said a box truck had been coming and going at odd hours. When we’d originally been dispatched to check it out, there was no one in the neighborhood. We’d done a fairly quick preliminary search but hadn’t found anything worth notice.
I pull off the road, and we exit our Expedition. We creep alongside the back of the blue house. Chris and I circle the perimeter, scanning for footprints, tire tracks, anything out of place, but nothing stands out.
Even as we walk, Sutton’s name flickers through my mind. I shove it away.
“See anything?” Chris asks.
“Not yet.”
The yard is overgrown, weeds clawing up a broken chain-link fence. Nothing seems out of place until a sleek, black Cadillac catches my eye as it glides down the street, windows blacked out.
Chris stops and glances at me. “Pretty sure that could be the anything we’re looking for.”
“Agreed.” I motion with my head, and we step behind a large willow tree in the yard.
The SUV stops across the street from the house. A man steps out and opens the trunk—full of boxes and plastic buckets from Home Depot. He glances over his shoulder, too quick, and spots us. We calmly step toward him, badges visible.
“Afternoon, sir,” I say. “Mind if we ask you a few questions?”
He swallows and shakes his head. Nervous tension radiates off him.
“We were out here last week. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about a box truck, would ya?”
He shakes his head again. “Uh, no, nothing.”
We ask him a few more questions. I pretend to jot notes, but really, I’m watching his eyes. Every micro-movement counts.
Once it’s clear this man isn’t going to give us much, we say our goodbyes, and head back across the street. Instead of unloading his SUV, the man surprises us and slams his trunk closed. He jumps in his SUV and drives down the street before we’ve even made it to our vehicle.
Something yellow falls from the bumper of his Cadillac.
“Just a second,” I tell Chris as I jog back across the street.
It looks to be a torn piece of a legal pad with something written on it. A name.
Daley.
I pocket the paper. Chris drives while I keep my eyes peeled, wracking my brain for anything about the name. The name sits heavy in my head. I know it. I just don’t know how.
Sunlight peaks through the clouds, warming the cab of the truck. I roll down my window, the breeze providing a reprieve to my racing thoughts.
The shrill sound of my phone breaks the silence. I shake my head and refocus.
“This is Detective Michaels,” I say.
“Michaels, where are you at? I thought I said to come see me.” Chief’s deep voice fills the cab.
“Chris and I went to check out the Magnolia house again. See if we missed anything.”
“Alright, well, let’s talk when you get back,” Chief says and hangs up.
The only sounds on the drive back are the hum of the engine and Chris yapping. But my mind can’t focus, bouncing between Sutton and the name Daley.
When we pull into the station, Chief Rhodes is waiting. His eyes narrow as we step out. “Well?”
“Saw a guy at the blue house across the street,” I say.
Chief folds his arms over his broad chest. “And this should be interesting to me for what reason?”
I pull the slip of paper from my pocket. “Maybe nothing, but this fell out of his vehicle when he left.” I hand Chief the slip of paper.
He nods, rubbing his jaw. “Why do I recognize this name?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“Why don’t you reach out to the Eagle Falls station, see if they know anything,” Chief calls over his shoulder as he heads inside the station.
I nod, swallowing my frustration.
Chris comes up beside me. “Chief can be intense.”
“Yeah, but it’s for good reason.”
I glance down at the slip of paper again.
Daley.
Recognition prickles at the edge of my thoughts, frustratingly out of reach.