Chapter 22 #2
Carlos crossed the couch and threw himself down next to my leg in a huff as I answered the phone before it went to voicemail.
“I’m so sorry,” James said by way of greeting. “I know you’ve got Hannah this weekend and I tried to avoid involving you, but I—”
“James, slow down. You’re fine. What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry to ask, but can you come down to the bar?”
“It’s not really a great time,” I said as Hannah returned to the room. “Did someone not show?”
“No, that’s not it.” He sighed. “I don’t want to freak you out.”
I sat up, every nerve on edge. “What’s wrong?”
Another sigh. “Someone broke in. We found evidence that it could be Luke. Since you ran into him after we closed last week, the police need your statement.”
“I’m guessing I can’t do that over the phone,” I said, letting out a breath. I risked a glance at my daughter, who raised a brow at me.
“I wish you could. I tried getting around it but because the alarm was tripped, the police are involved more than I’d like them to be.”
“I…” My eyes stayed locked on Hannah. True to her nature, she picked up on what was happening.
“Go,” she mouthed, waving toward the door.
“Give me a second.” I pulled the phone away from my ear muted the conversation, turning my full attention to Hannah. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” she said, pulling Carlos into her lap again. “I can tell it’s important. I’ve never seen you so pale.”
“You’ll be okay by yourself? I promise I’ll be quick.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “I’m seventeen. I’ve been a latchkey kid for as long as I can remember. I can handle an hour or two home alone. Go take care of whatever it is. You can make it up to me by watching more Single Life with me.”
I inwardly groaned, but unmuted the call and told James I’d be on my way. I leaned over to give Hannah a kiss on the forehead—prompting a lunge from Carlos. “I promise I’ll be back in an hour. Less.”
“Yeah, yeah—I’m looking forward to seeing your reaction to the next episode. That’s when it gets good.”
Outside of the guilt I felt over leaving Hannah, I was pretty unfazed; I’d dealt with the Metro police in Las Vegas on the regular.
I pulled into the parking lot of the bar, right behind the three police cruisers that were already there.
The front of the bar looked normal enough, but I spotted James next to a couple of officers at the mouth of the alley that led behind the building.
I wiped my clammy hands on my jeans, then forced myself from the car.
Despite the frigid temperatures in the air, I was sweating as I approached the group. James glanced in my direction without breaking his train of thought, so I waited impatiently to the side. It felt like forever before James extended a hand and introduced me.
“This is one of my best bartenders, Ryder Clark. He’s had a couple of altercations with the customer in question, though as I told you before, I was also present at each encounter.”
One of the officers introduced herself, though I immediately forgot her name. I remembered only her dark hair slicked back into a ponytail and her kind, green eyes assessing me as she reviewed her notes with the answers I gave her.
Yes, his name was Luke. No, I didn’t know his last name—or Kian’s for that matter.
I should probably figure that out. No, I didn’t know anything else about him, except that his brother was dating my daughter.
I recounted the first time he’d come into the bar, and the second when he’d approached me in the parking lot.
The officer made a few more scribbles in her notepad, then reached into her pocket.
“I just have one last question and we’ll be out of your hair. Do you recognize this?” She held up a clear plastic bag with the word EVIDENCE printed in bright orange letters across the front. As she raised it to eye level, something inside caught the moonlight: a silver cross.
I swallowed against a suddenly dry mouth, and could only nod at first. I cleared my throat to find my words. “Yeah. He wears one of those.”
The officer tucked the necklace away again. “Thank you, Mr. Clark. We’ll call you if we have any more questions.”
The police cleared out, and one by one the patrol cars disappeared. After they left, I turned to James. “What really happened?” I asked.
He shrugged, the gesture too casual for the unease on his face.
For the first time since I’d met him, he looked…
scared. “I got a call from the alarm company before opening, and I rushed down here, but the police were here first. They broke in through my office window—the damn thing is shattered.” He paused and scrubbed a hand over his face.
“I’m sorry to pull you away from Hannah. You should be getting back.”
“But—”
“No buts, Ryder. You fought like hell for this weekend. I’m not letting someone like Luke get in the way of that.”
I took a deep breath.
“Hannah goes home tomorrow, right?” I nodded. “I’ll come see you then.”
James made sure we were alone before he reached out and pulled me close by my waist. He leaned in and brushed a kiss over each cheek, before finally closing his lips over mine. I felt every muscle in my body relax. Then all too soon, he pulled away.
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” he confirmed.
I turned back to my car, feeling my pockets for my phone, but coming up empty. I’d left it in the cupholder. I sat down in the driver’s seat, and checked the time; I’d been gone for a little under an hour. But it was what was underneath the clock that made my blood run cold.
Ten missed calls from Hannah.