Chapter Fourteen
“Do you want to take a walk or wait here?” They’d been sitting on the ride over, and Blaize wanted to stretch his sore legs.
“I’d like to move,” Carys said.
He locked up the Jeep, and they headed east on Chord.
Austin was the equivalent of an ant farm of students.
They were everywhere, which kept the area safer since there was so much foot traffic.
Unhoused folks stayed to themselves, not harassing anyone.
It was an easy place to take a walk anytime night or day.
They must have walked, hand in hand, for an hour before stopping for a late-night snack. Blaize bit back a yawn.
“You didn’t get much sleep last night,” she said. “You must be exhausted.”
“All I need is a power nap.”
“We can head back to the Jeep after we eat these tacos. I can entertain myself and keep watch while you close your eyes.” She checked the time on her phone. “We still have a couple of hours before closing.”
He bit back another yawn. “That might not be a bad idea.”
Booking a room north of Austin in Round Rock seemed like a bad idea now.
He’d intended to keep them north so they could get out of traffic easily tomorrow morning.
Being back in Maverick Pass these past days reminded him just how much he loved space.
Not much could beat looking up at a Texas sky at night.
The expansiveness. The sheer number of stars that he never got to see when he lived in the city thanks to light pollution.
With Cormac gone, he also found a sense of peace at the ranch. Blaize hadn’t been expecting to feel anything, especially not like he was right where he belonged. Raiden and Phoenix didn’t think the same way. Could he propose a plan to buy them out? Would the bank even give him a loan on the place?
Or could he get his siblings to bet on him?
Give them a share if they didn’t force him to sell, then pay dividends once he got the place up and profitable?
He tucked the idea away for later, hoping for no more unexpected twists in the meantime.
Talk about surprises—Kit trying to force the sale had shocked the hell out of him.
Had to be her pride talking or a misguided sense of loyalty to her grandsons.
Every one of them would have to give up a career in order to move back to the ranch.
Blaize’s mind was made up. He could start his own business doing what he loved, making custom saddles.
He hadn’t talked to Phoenix, but according to Raiden their minds were made up, too. Would they listen to Kit?
It dawned on him that she’d called Raiden after learning about Lynn. It would be just like Kit to think of herself as an unfair burden.
Blaize wanted to do this for her. Kit was different from Lynn.
Kit appreciated everything he did for her.
She always had his best interest at heart.
Lynn had become bitter. She’d been frustrated with how her life turned out, which he understood.
He’d been a soft pillow for her to throw punches at.
He was strong—physically, mentally, and emotionally. He could take it.
“Are you going to eat that?” Carys asked, staring at his untouched taco.
“Do you want it?”
“No. I could always order my own. I thought you were hungry, and you only ate one taco. I know you can eat more than that, so I’m wondering if you’re too tired.”
He picked up the taco and took a bite. “Torchy’s or Velvet?”
“Velvet. Obviously for their chicken tikka tacos.”
He laughed. The great Austin debate over the homegrown favorite, Torchy’s, versus the Dallas-originated Velvet had a clear winner. They were in agreement, and it was clear that there was no contest in either of their minds.
“Agreed.”
“This fried egg on top might be messy, but it’s chef’s kiss,” she said with a smile.
After polishing off the last of his taco, he washed his hands and headed back to the Jeep.
All he needed was twenty minutes of shut-eye to grab his second wind.
With the activity on the street, he figured they could get away with sitting in the Jeep out in the open without causing any type of disturbance.
Once seated, he leaned his chair back. Carys followed suit, turning onto her left side, facing him, while she studied her cell.
Blaize closed his eyes. A minute later, he drifted off.
TAP. TAP. TAP.
Blaize sat bolt upright. His leg came up, jamming his thigh on the steering wheel. Carys gasped.
A cop stood at the driver’s side window, face almost pressing against the glass as he peered inside the Jeep.
Slowly, Blaize lifted his hands and placed them on the wheel in the ten-and-two position so the officer could see them.
“Roll down your window, sir.” The cop was squatty, with a ruddy complexion and a serious expression.
With careful movements, Blaize rolled down his manual-crank window.
“I didn’t even see him come up,” Carys whispered.
A bright light nearly blinded Blaize. He squinted. The officer ran a flashlight over the interior of the Jeep, no doubt checking for weapons or a reason to arrest them like open containers or visible drugs.
“How can I help you, Officer?”
The man’s nameplate read Officer Marcum.
“You can start by telling me what you’re doing here,” Officer Marcum said. His gaze shifted to Carys.
“I’m sorry, sir. This is my fault,” she said, taking the lead. She reached over to touch Blaize’s arm. “My fiancé didn’t get much sleep last night after me being in the hospital, so I asked him if we could stop off and rest before making the drive back to Dallas.”
Blaize had no idea where any of this was coming from, but he wasn’t about to argue.
Marcum’s gaze shifted from Carys to him. “Are you aware that it’s not advisable to sleep in a parking lot?”
“Yes, sir. I am now.” He rubbed his eyes.
Carys patted her stomach. “We had a scare. I started spotting, and we thought…” Her chin quivered. “That maybe we were about to lose this little bean.”
Damn. She was good at this.
“Sorry to hear that, ma’am.” Marcum’s intensity scaled down a few notches.
“Is there a convenient place to grab coffee for my fiancé nearby before we head out?” she asked. She played the role to perfection. Blaize needed to ask if she had any acting in her background.
“Convenience store is on the corner,” he said. “Go straight this way.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
Officer Marcum turned to Blaize. “License and insurance, please. Before you head out.”
“My insurance is on my phone. Hold on.” He grabbed his cell and then located the card before showing the officer the screen. When Marcum nodded, Blaize fished out his wallet and then produced his license.
The cop took it and examined it. He excused himself and walked back to his vehicle.
He was punching in the information on a laptop that looked like it was attached to the dashboard on a moveable tray.
He must have been satisfied with what he found because he strolled over and handed the ID back. “Y’all be safe on the road.”
“Will do.” Carys beamed. “Thank you, Officer.”
Marcum gave a small salute before disappearing around the back of the Jeep and back to his own vehicle. Blaize turned on the engine after rolling up his window.
“What should we do?” she asked.
“Circle the block a few times. Park farther from the bar. He was probably expecting one or both of us to be drunk and unable to drive.” He navigated out of the parking lot and onto the road, moving in the direction of the convenience store the officer had mentioned to make it look good.
The cop sat in his vehicle, typing away on the laptop as they drove off.
Avoiding a second encounter with the same officer would be ideal. There were enough people around they should be able to blend in.
“You don’t think we’re being set up, do you?” Carys asked as he turned right at the end of the street. “By the barback?”
“We should come up with a plan, just in case.”
“You’re right,” she said.
“How long was I asleep?” He glanced at the time, muttered a curse.
Too long. They only had twenty minutes until the meetup.
“We’ll have to figure out a parking spot fast and a plan even faster.
” Parking was a joke in downtown Austin.
Try parking illegally and you could end up towed.
Not having transportation would be complicated, especially if this was a setup.
“Tell me again what happened,” she said. After the cop encounter, he realized how good she was at thinking under pressure. “We can start there.”
“A young guy, early twenties, walked past while I was showing Stephanie’s picture to the female bartender.
I noticed him because he seemed interested.
He came around the bar and caught my arm when I walked toward your side.
Said he couldn’t talk right now but that I should meet him closer to closing time. ”
“I don’t like this,” she said.
“He wants me to meet. He’s not a big guy. If it’s just him, I’m not worried.”
“If he has information about Stephanie, why ask you to come back? Why not tell you what he knows right then?”
“Those are good questions,” he said, banking a left. “I don’t have answers. All I have is someone who wants to tell me something about the person in the picture. With two of us, we can figure out a failsafe if the guy is up to something.”
“This whole meetup makes me nervous.” Carys twisted her fingers together in her lap. “There are too many what-ifs and no proof this person has useful information.”
“At least we know there are a lot of cops around if this thing goes south.”
Carys shook her head. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
“It’s all we have.”
“We still have one bar left,” she said.
“Which isn’t as good of a lead.”
“We don’t know that,” she said. “All we know for certain is that someone asked to meet after work. How far away from the picture was he?”
“A foot behind the bartender.” If that much.
“And you said he walked past. As in, he kept going.”
“That’s correct.”
“Which means he barely got a glance at the picture,” she said.
“I wouldn’t say that.” Blaize had a good feeling about the guy. “What reason could he have for speaking up? Why not just let me walk out the door? The bartender didn’t know anything. Why raise suspicion?”
“THAT’S A GOOD POINT.” Breathe. They might’ve been getting close to a breakthrough. “I’m freaking out over your safety.” And the general feeling of not being able to control the situation. Turned out being overly protected as a kid could cause you to need to control everything.
“I’ll be careful.” Blaize’s reassurance sent a wave of calm washing over her and through her.
“Believe it or not, I’m pretty good at keeping myself alive.
There’ve been plenty of times that I’ve been out on the land, staring down wild hogs capable of killing me on the spot and had to come up with an escape plan.
I’ve faced down poachers and survived. I’ll take any and every threat seriously, but I didn’t get that kind of vibe from this guy.
He looked concerned and maybe a little scared to speak to me.
Does any of this help ease your concerns? ”
He pulled into a newly available street-side parking spot. That was lucky.
“It does,” she said before reaching out to touch his arm. The contact was electric, as she was beginning to expect whenever they touched. It was also tender enough to cause her breath to catch in her throat and her stomach to freefall like she’d just base jumped. “A surprising amount actually.”
“Good.” He leaned over. “Because I’ll be careful and you’ll be watching my back. We have no reason to believe the barback saw us together in that crowd.”
It had been shoulder-to-shoulder in the room.
“Why do you think he might be scared?” she asked. “If you had to guess.”
“Could be for a lot of reasons.” If he leaned any closer, they would be within kissing range. “Like he knows why she ended up in a fiery car crash.”
“As far as we know, it was a lone vehicle accident.” She hadn’t considered this could be a murder investigation. So far, she assumed Stephanie was hiding both herself and her child from a potentially abusive relationship.
Would the father of her child have murdered her?
“Without a murder investigation, the sheriff won’t look into her text messages,” she said after taking a moment to think.
A thought struck. “I’ve been going back and forth on whether she’s alive or gone but that might be wishful thinking for Rue’s sake.
Do you think there’s a possibility Stephanie Cross is alive? ”
“No,” Blaize said. “Although I learned a long time ago to never say never.”
Carys let the thought sit before trying to unpack it.
All they had right now was very little information and a whole mess of speculation. Going down a trail of what-ifs with this little to go on could be counterproductive and end up getting them lost.
They needed to stick to what they knew was fact, despite how much her brain wanted to fill in the holes. She also needed to tread lightly on this case and not leave a digital or paperwork trail that could come back to bite her in the backside.
Besides, there were too many questions in this case.
With this barback, they might get answers.