Chapter 17
“ I don’t think this is a good idea.” The female deputy, Farah, shook her head. “I heard about the theft and your girlfriend. You shouldn’t be here.
“I just want to talk.” Brock had gone to school with the petite blonde.
She’d been tough as nails back then and if she decided he shouldn’t talk to Jesse, he was in trouble.
Two days had passed with no answers on his car or from Josie.
Brock didn’t know if he should be furious or concerned.
His family would say furious, but he couldn’t quite get there.
Was it because of his autism, or because he had a reason to worry?
“You can be in there with me, but I have to talk with him.”
Max reported his attempts to contact Josie had failed, also. That seemed out of character for Josie, but maybe Brock wasn’t a good judge of character. He’d bugged Max and the deputy said he was coordinating with Waite Park’s PD, but it “takes time.”
Waiting was out of the question.
Farah contemplated his request for a moment. “Fine. I’ll be in there with you, but you so much as raise your voice and I’m kicking your ass out. I know, it sounds odd, but I’m in charge of the prisoners. They can get in trouble by themselves, I’m not handing them even more.”
Brock dipped his head. “Thank you.”
Farah led him to a small room with nothing but a folding table and two chairs. He sat and shortly after, Farah led Jesse in.
Brock expected a glare or a hostile expression. Jesse’s face didn’t bear either of those. Brock studied him and finally worked out concern and confusion.
Jesse took his seat and Farah stood by the door with her arms crossed over her white uniform shirt.
“What’s wrong with Josie?” Jesse’s voice rose in pitch and it dawned on Brock that the man was worried about his sister because why else would Brock be there.
“I don’t know. Did she steal my car?”
Jesse recoiled from the question, then shook his head. “ Fuck . The old man did it, didn’t he?”
Farah’s arms dropped and she stepped forward. “You have information about the crime?” Her hair swished as she shook her head and held up a hand. “You should get your lawyer before you talk.”
Jesse scowled at her, but his features softened. “Worried about me?”
Farah’s mouth tightened and she returned to her post at the door. “Common sense. Dig yourself a hole.”
Jesse’s attention returned. Brock held his gaze steady, reminding himself how important eye contact was at a time like this.
“I haven’t heard from Josie since she came to visit before she left a few days ago. But she mentioned her suspicions that her dad targeted your acquisition and sent her ex to take it.” Jesse slumped in his seat and massaged the bridge of his nose. “That son of a bitch.”
“Did she plan it?”
Jesse dropped his hand. “Josie? Wha—Is that why you’re here? You think she planned to steal your car?”
“Yes.”
Jesse sat forward and out of the corner of his eye, Brock saw Farah shift into a less leisurely stance. Tension was thick in the room.
“My sister didn’t fucking steal your car, Walker. Once upon a time, I might’ve done something stupid like that.” Jesse’s gaze flicked to Farah, who cocked her eyebrow. “But Bill always made sure Mom and Josie stayed out of it. He’s an asshole, but that’s his one redeeming quality.”
“Then why isn’t she answering my calls?”
“You can’t get ahold of her?” Color leeched from Jesse’s complexion. “Farah, can I try calling her?”
Farah narrowed her eyes on both of them and pursed her lips. “You just had a visitation. You can’t have phone privileges on top of it.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m worried about my sister. I left her at the mercy of a loser father and an ex who’ll do God knows what to get her back. Or just do it for himself because he’s a selfish bastard.”
Brock latched onto his statement. Rage bubbled. “What would her ex do?”
Jesse snorted. “Gage? Not keep his hands off another woman, that’s for sure.
But he thinks so much of himself and her dumping him didn’t sit well.
He’ll find a way to back her into a corner.
” Jesse shoved his finger in Brock’s face and Farah drifted closer, her hand on her taser.
“If he finds out she was with you, that’d be enough to put her back against a fucking wall.
He’d use that information to get Bill to cut off her money and—”
“I’m sorry,” Farah interrupted, “but isn’t your sister an adult?”
Brock ruminated on the details while Jesse’s mouth twisted in a sneer. “Does your daddy pay your wage?”
Farah’s expression was frosty. “No.”
“Josie’s always worked for him. I’ve only ever worked for him.
Everything was always about the business.
It paid the bills. I was supposed to get the place, but he kicked me out when Gage wormed his way into Josie’s life.
I think the old man secretly hated how Mom doted on me, probably knew she wished my dad never died.
But Josie was his and he controlled her.
Told her where she’d work, what she’d go to school for.
She thinks she’s taking care of him, thinks he needs her around, when really, she can’t afford to strike out on her own.
” Jesse shot Farah a pointed look. “Not everyone is born with money.”
Farah stiffened, but Brock wasn’t concerned about whatever drama was between them.
Brock made up his mind. He didn’t have a plan, just knew what he had to do. “What’s your address?”
“No, dude. Let me try calling first.” Jesse pushed back like he was going to run out to the phone.
Farah stopped him just by holding her hand up. “No calls, you’ve already gotten a visitation today, but—”
“Fuck privileges, it’s my sister!”
“But,” Farah talked over him, “Brock can call from our phone. If she answers, we know she’s avoiding him. If she doesn’t answer, then it might indicate a reason to worry.”
Brock was up and squeezing out the door before Farah could open it all the way.
She trailed behind, keeping Jesse under guard, as Brock snatched the receiver of the hallway phone and dialed Josie.
It rang until her voicemail kicked in.
He slammed it down. “Dammit.”
“Try again,” Jesse and Farah said at the same time.
Brock did and got the same outcome.
Jesse rattled off her address. Brock didn’t need to write it down. He gave Jesse and Farah a nod and stalked out of the jail.
Blinking in the sun, he bee-lined for his truck. His tank was three-quarters full, making for at least one gas stop before he reached Waite Park. There was barely any cloud cover, so no storms between Moore and Josie’s hometown to delay him.
Josie bounced her leg on the arm of the couch. She was going to scratch the paint off the walls if she had to wait much longer. What must Brock think of her? Did he assume she was in on it, that’d she’d stolen from him?
If she were in his place, she’d totally think like that. Would he listen to her, believe her? She had to find out what Bill had done with the Shelby, then get it back.
The police had stopped by two days ago and pounded on the door.
Like a couple of teenagers, she and Gage had frozen with identical expressions of terror.
They’d been statues for a few minutes until the police had finally left.
Then they’d come back again yesterday. Same thing.
When would they get a warrant and let themselves in?
She couldn’t get caught yet. She’d still look guilty, if not in the eyes of the law, in the eyes of the Walkers.
Josie was pretty sure hiding from a police officer when her brother was already a felon wasn’t going to help her convince anyone she was innocent.
She’d been tempted to answer the door, but Gage had shot her a you better sit your sweet ass down look.
Picturing Gage getting arrested made her chuckle, but Josie had Bill to worry about, along with herself, because Milton wasn’t tied to any of the bullshit with Brock’s car.
And without Bill and Gage, she’d be left at Milton’s mercy.
Gage meandered through the house. His irritation at not being able to help Bill arrange the chop, and a general lack of sleep, was making him increasingly short tempered.
She, too, was tired and cranky because she hadn’t yet found out where they’d stashed the Shelby.
Once she found out, she could sneak out and use her spare set of keys to take Bill’s car.
Then she’d get a phone to get ahold of Brock.
But she hadn’t been able to eavesdrop on any of Gage and Bill’s conversations, and sneaking out without the info would do no good—by the time she got help, Bill or Gage would have hotwired the Shelby and moved it again.
Plus, the asshole dozed so lightly that his eyes popped open whenever her foot hit the floor. He’d manhandled her once already. If she pushed things any further, she was afraid he’d tie her up or lock her in a closet.
So she settled for needling him, upsetting him so badly he’d make a mistake.
She’d never seen him as angry as he’d been earlier. He’d answered his phone, then turned around and purred into it. Ah, a woman. Camilla or the brunette or a third woman?
So Josie had called out in a sultry voice, “Gaaage, are you coming back to bed?”
“Dammit, Jo!”
From the way his shoulders had tightened and he’d huffed at the ceiling, the rest of the conversation hadn’t gone well. Aww, poor Gage. The memory brightened Josie’s day.
Now he was barely talking to her and cussing at the phone when Bill wouldn’t answer.
“Gonna tell me about Milton yet?” Josie picked at her nails. Nothing like reminding him about his precarious position with a violent loan shark to rile him up.
“I told you, I don’t know anything about Milton,” Gage growled.
“Bullshit.” When they’d been together, she’d learned how to tell when something was up—he’d get extremely defensive whenever she asked a question.
“Why don’t you tell me about your boyfriend?” Yep, defensive. “Or how it feels banging the guys that put your brother away?”