Chapter 47 Roan
ROAN
“How do we have nothing?” I said, slamming my pen down on the pad of paper.
Lawson and Nash eyed me warily. Nash scooted his box of donuts toward me. “Need something to eat?”
Lawson’s lips twitched.
“It’s not fuckin’ funny,” I snarled.
Lawson just rolled his eyes, not put off by my bellow. “Sorry, but any time Nash offers to part with food, you know you’re in a bad way.”
“I panicked,” Nash defended. “I don’t want him going over the edge and punching us both.”
I grabbed the box and flipped it open. “Just for that, I’m taking the Boston Cream.”
“Hey! I was saving that one.”
“I know. That’s why I’m taking it.”
Nash turned to Lawson. “You’re right. I think I liked him better when he just brooded silently.”
I took a huge bite of the donut in answer.
Lawson chuckled, then patted Nash on the back. “I’ll get you some more tomorrow.”
“I wanted it today,” Nash grumbled.
Lawson just shook his head. “I think you’ll survive.” He leaned back in his chair at the head of the conference table. “Let’s go over everything from the beginning.”
I groaned. “We need to interrogate Steven.”
The podcaster had retained a lawyer—one who ordered him not to answer any of our questions this morning. We’d gotten nothing.
“It’s not like that prick will tell us a damned thing,” Nash muttered.
“I put a call in for the visitor logs from John’s prison. I want to see just how often those two got together,” Lawson said.
“Oren Randal, too,” I added.
The reporter had made bail late this morning after being served with a restraining order.
Lawson had Clint and Adams tailing him at a distance to make sure he obeyed it.
Another two officers were sitting on Steven’s rental cabin, but they hadn’t seen any signs of movement, and his vehicle was still in the drive.
“I want to take a closer look at anyone who had a lot of contact,” Lawson said.
Nash pulled the box of donuts back in his direction. “I think we need to get posters up at all the trailheads. Ask people to call in if they see any suspicious behavior. Maybe a hiker saw something and they just don’t know it.”
“Not a bad idea,” I said.
Lawson tapped his fingers on the table. “I didn’t want anyone to panic.”
I pinned him with a stare. “I think we’re past that. Two people are dead.”
His jaw tightened. “Point taken.”
Lawson shouldered everything, including the weight of the entire town. He didn’t want to frighten a soul if he didn’t have to.
Nash glanced at our older brother. “Word has already gotten around to most everyone. This will warn those who haven’t heard to be careful on the hiking trails.”
“All right. I’ll have something drawn up.”
A knock sounded on the conference room door, but the person on the other side didn’t wait for an answer. The door swung open, and Wren appeared, one hand on her pregnant belly, her face pale. “Abel’s on a call from The Brew. Aspen’s missing.”
Everything in me stilled. The air in my lungs seized. I must have heard her wrong.
My ears rang as Nash and Lawson leapt to their feet. Nash was at my side instantly, hauling me up, his expression full of concern. “Roan.”
The sound of my name had me jerking out of my haze, and then I was moving. I shoved aside chairs and bolted for the door, Nash and Lawson on my heels. I didn’t stop for a damn thing as I booked it out of the station and down the sidewalk.
All I could see was Aspen’s face in my mind. That stupid glitter headband from Cady. The way the light in her green eyes danced when she gave me hell. How they went soft when she told me she saw the best in me. The way they heated when I knew she wanted more.
I hauled open the door to The Brew, making the bell jangle in a weird, off-kilter way. Everyone’s gaze shot to me.
Officer Hall, the cook, Zeke, and Jonesy were huddled together in the hallway as customers milled about the café. I stalked toward them. “What the hell happened?”
Their heads snapped up.
Zeke paled, guilt filling his expression. “She took the trash out. It was taking forever, so I finally went out to see what the issue was, and she was just…gone.”
“You let her take the trash out alone?” I growled.
Nash took hold of my arm. “Breathe, brother.”
I shook him off and shoved past the dick who’d let Aspen outside by herself. Jerking the door open, I scanned the alley and the woods. There was nothing.
I yelled her name. Still no sound.
Lawson, Nash, and I fanned out, our eyes on the ground, looking for signs of anything as we walked toward the dumpster.
My gaze caught on something on the cement. Was that oil?
I crouched low, touching a finger to the ground. As I brought my hand up, my stomach pitched and roiled. Blood.
“Law,” I choked.
He was by my side in a flash, a curse on his lips. “We don’t know anything. Keep breathing.”
But I couldn’t. Aspen had always told me I made her feel safe—for the first time in years. But I’d failed her. I’d promised her I had her back, and she’d been out here alone.
My ribs tightened, my breaths coming in quick pants. But all I could do was stare down at my hand. The blood. Aspen’s blood. The stain would be with me forever.
“Didn’t tell her I love her,” I rasped.
“Roan,” Nash said quietly.
“It freaked me out, knowing I felt that way, so I didn’t give her the words.”
And now, I might not get the chance.