6. Chapter 6 Nash Doesnt Buy It
Cole
Nash pulls up before I've even finished the call.
No headlights. No engine noise until he's right there, rolling into the parking lot as he materializes out of thin air. That's Nash. Ex-Navy SEAL. Moves like smoke when he wants to.
He's out of the truck before it fully stops, boot heels crunching gravel as he crosses to where I'm standing with Suzanne's hood already popped.
"Show me," he says.
No preamble. No small talk. Just Nash being Nash.
I angle the flashlight toward the engine block. "Started fine this morning. Now it won't turn over, and the dash is throwing errors I've never seen on this model."
Nash leans in, eyes scanning. He hasn't touched anything yet. Just looking.
Suzanne stands a few feet back, arms wrapped around herself even though it's not cold. She's trying to look calm. Failing.
"I probably just need a jump," she says. "Or maybe the battery's dead. Cars do that, right?"
Nash doesn't answer her. He pulls a smaller flashlight from his pocket and crouches low, tracing the beam along the wiring harness near the battery.
Five seconds. That's all it takes.
"Someone cut the ground wire," he says. Quiet. Matter-of-fact. "Then reconnected it loose enough to fail under load."
My jaw locks.
Suzanne takes a step closer. "What does that mean?"
"It means," I say, keeping my voice even, "someone wanted your car to stop working. But not right away. They wanted you stranded somewhere specific."
Her face goes pale.
Nash straightens, clicking off his light. "Precise work."
He pauses. Not thinking. Recognizing.
"Clean cuts. Whoever did this knew what they were doing."
"Could it have been an accident?" Suzanne's voice is small now. Hopeful in a way that guts me.
"No," Nash and I say at the same time.
She flinches.
I move closer without thinking, my hand going to her elbow. She's shaking. Trying to hide it, but I can feel the fine tremor running through her.
"I'm fine." She pulls back. "I've been handling things on my own for a long time."
"I know you have."
"Then stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like I'm going to fall apart."
I don't tell her I'm not worried about her falling apart. I'm worried about whoever did this finishing what they started.
Nash raises an eyebrow at me. Doesn't say a word. Doesn't need to.
I ignore him.
"This isn't about a dead battery," I tell her. "This is about someone following you. Watching you. Sabotaging your car in a public parking lot in broad daylight."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do."
Her eyes flash. "Stop."
"Stop what?"
"This." She gestures between us. "The whole thing. I didn't ask for it."
"I know."
She blinks. Waiting for more. I don't give it to her.
Underneath the glare, I hear the fear. See it in the way her fingers twist together. The way her shoulders stay tight no matter how hard she tries to relax.
She's terrified.
And whoever put that fear in her is going to regret it.
Nash's phone is already out. He fires off two texts, reads a reply, types again. I don't ask. Nash operates on a need-to-know basis, and right now I'm not sure I need to know.
"Watering Hole footage is coming," he says, not looking up. "Jett's cameras cover the whole east end of the lot."
"Good," I say.
Nash steps away to make a call, leaving Suzanne and me standing in the yellow wash of the parking lot lights.
"I'll call a tow," he says over his shoulder. "Someone I trust."
"Thank you," Suzanne says quietly.
He nods once, already dialing.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Beau's name lights up the screen. I step a few feet away and answer. "Yeah."
"Nash just texted me," Beau says without preamble. "Someone messed with Suzanne's car?"
"Looks that way."
There's a pause. Then: "I'm hiring a PI."
"Beau."
"Non-negotiable, Cole. Suzanne's shop is part of my Main Street investment. If someone's targeting her, they're threatening my project. I want to know who and why."
I rub a hand over my face. Beau's protective instincts rival mine, and when he decides something's a threat to what's his, he doesn't back down.
"Fine," I say. "But keep it quiet. The last thing she needs is the whole town knowing her business."
"Agreed. I'll have someone on it by morning." He hangs up.
I stand there for a moment, staring at my phone. Then I pocket it and turn back.
Suzanne's leaning against the hood of her car now, looking exhausted. Nash is across the lot, talking low into his phone.
I walk back to her. She watches me come, and something in her expression closes off a little, like she's bracing.
"Tow's on the way," I say. "Nash will make sure it goes somewhere he trusts."
"Okay."
"I'll drive you home after."
She opens her mouth. I can see her gearing up for it.
"No." Her voice is steady. "You don't get to just decide things for me, Cole. I'll take the ride if you let me call Willa first. From the truck. So someone knows where I am and who I'm with."
It's not an unreasonable question. Coming from her, it feels like a test.
"Fair," I say.
Something shifts in her face. Like she expected a fight and doesn't know what to do with the absence of one.
"Okay," she says. "Then yeah. I'll take the ride."
My phone buzzes again. Willa this time.
Willa: Nash said something happened with Suzanne's car. Is she okay?
Me: She's fine. Tow's here.
Willa: Good. Be nice to her, Cole. I mean it.
I shove the phone back in my pocket.
When I turn around, Nash is watching me with that unreadable expression he gets when he's running calculations in his head.
"Tow's ten minutes out," he says. "I'll wait."
"I'm waiting with her."
He smirks. Barely. "Figured."
Suzanne looks up as I approach. "You don't have to stay."
"Nothing more important than this."
She blinks and opens her mouth, then closes it again.
I lean against the car next to her, close enough that our shoulders almost touch. She doesn't move away this time.
We stand there in silence while Nash circles the parking lot, checking sight lines and angles like he's running a security assessment. Because he is.
"Your family's intense," Suzanne says after a minute.
"Yeah."
"Do they always just swarm like this?"
"When someone we care about is in trouble? Yes."
She turns her head to look at me. "We barely know each other, Cole."
"Doesn't matter."
"It should."
"It doesn't."
Her jaw tightens. But she doesn't argue.
The tow truck arrives, yellow lights flashing as it backs into position. The driver hops out, and Nash is already there, giving him instructions in that calm, controlled voice that makes people obey without question.
Suzanne watches them work.
"I needed to go to the store," she says.
"I'll take you then I'll drop you home. We can go now."
She almost smiles. It doesn't quite land, but it gets close.
We wait until her car's loaded and the tow truck pulls away. Nash gives me a look that says we'll talk later, then heads to his truck.
Suzanne stares at the empty parking space where her car was.
I open the passenger door of my truck without comment. She climbs in. Pulls out her phone and scrolls to Willa's name.
I round the hood and get in beside her. Let her make the call. Don't rush it.
She keeps it short. Just checking in, she tells Willa. Heading to the store with Cole.
When she hangs up, she tucks her phone in her bag and looks straight ahead through the windshield.
"Okay," she says quietly. "I'm ready."
I start the engine.
We're almost out of the lot when Nash appears beside my window. Silent as a ghost.
I roll it down.
He leans close, voice barely above a murmur.
"This isn't random, Cole. Someone knows her."