Chapter 4 Calder #4
I hummed in thought. With expired tags, it was a safe bet Brandon would linger in the park as long as he could before renewing the registration or risking a fine rather than a warning from the police.
“Great. Thanks—”
“Calder, that wasn’t the only permit that came up.” Callum caught me as I turned back to Lara, about to hang up. “He also paid for a hunting permit for the park.”
Shit.
“Got it,” I replied flatly, holding Lara’s increasingly narrow stare. “Anything else?”
“Don’t go looking tonight. There’s a storm coming.” If Callum was warning me about it, then it was serious; he hadn’t earned his nickname, the Daredevil, for nothing.
“Thanks—” The line went dead.
“What is it? What did he say?” Lara asked as soon as the phone vacated my ear.
“Brandon’s plates on his truck were expired. That was what the police were arguing with him about.” And thanks to Callum, I didn’t need to make a second call to the precinct to find out more.
“Does he know where it is? Can he track it?”
“The model is too old for GPS, but Callum found a permit request to camp in the park, and a record of Brandon’s license plate entering Bridger-Teton the day after Rachel called you.”
“So he’s in the park? They’re in the park? Where do we—”
“His truck and camper entered the park,” I interrupted, keeping my tone level in hopes it would steady hers. “His permit is good for another few days, which makes it likely he’s still there but not a guarantee.”
“But if he is . . .”
“There are only so many sites that allow campers to park—”
“So we’ll start with those—”
“Lara.” A frustrated growl edged from my chest. “I’ll check out all the campsites first thing tomorrow and let you know what I find.”
“No.” She fired the word at me, suddenly pacing like a caged animal. “I’m going with you. If Rachel is with him, I need to be there—”
“You’re not going to be there.” I’d thought my tone was nonnegotiable, yet she didn’t back down.
She strode right up to me and lifted her chin, her delicate features sharpened with determination. “Fine, then. I’ll start the search by myself.”
She lurched to walk around me, but I grabbed her arm to stop her. “Dammit, Lara. Brandon has a hunting permit for the park.”
The anger that had colored her cheeks now drained completely, her freckles standing out like dark stars against a pale night. “So he has a gun,” she inferred, all her determination hollowed out from her voice.
Without thinking, I stepped closer, the heat of our bodies colliding in the almost nonexistent space separating us. Lara’s tongue darted out, the pink tip sliding along her lips. My eyes followed it as if it were a red flag waved in front of a bull. A dare to stop her. To kiss her.
I released her arm like I’d touched a hot stove. No, a stove would’ve burned less.
“It’s a safe assumption.”
Lara’s head swayed, her eyes going vacant for a second. The danger was enough to make her pause and think, but inevitably not enough to stop her.
“I can’t not be there, Calder. Not if Rachel is with him,” she insisted.
“And I need you to let me do my job.” And let me do it alone.
“If you find her, I don’t know that she’ll trust you. That she’ll go with you,” she countered just as firmly.
Shit. I’d never encountered a case where a missing person didn’t want to be rescued. But then again, I’d never searched for a missing ex-girlfriend before.
I wanted to promise it would all work out, but the tenuous end of my relationship with Rachel made me hesitate. Would a dozen years be enough to dull any lingering anger she harbored for me? Maybe, if she was being held against her will. But if she wasn’t?
“All right. Take your car and meet me here tomorrow morning at eight,” I said, rubbing my hand on the back of my neck. Unfortunately, I didn’t trust her not to go searching for Brandon on her own if I didn’t agree to something right now.
“Wait, why not tonight?”
As if on cue, Callum’s warning personified into a growl of thunder above us, storm clouds clawing through the fabric of the wide-open sky.
Lara looked up just as a heavy raindrop landed on her nose, the cold burst making it wrinkle. Seconds later, thousands of them darkened the pavement.
Taking her arm again, I propelled her toward her rental.
“You can’t track them in a thunderstorm?” she demanded when we reached the driver’s-side door.
“If we had information that she was in imminent danger, I would, but we don’t, so going out in this is reckless, not a rescue.”
Rule #3: Nature doesn’t care about ego. The moment you underestimate it is the moment it will kill you.
The prelude of rain ended, and with a boom that shook the ground, the skies opened to the full production of the downpour. Cursing, I threw open the door and bundled her into the car, shouting, “Tomorrow morning,” before closing her inside.
Sprinting back into the diner, I stopped just inside the door and stared through the glass. Somehow I found Lara’s gaze through the onslaught of raindrops.
I might have been unwilling to underestimate nature, but I had a gnawing suspicion I was severely underestimating my desire for my ex-girlfriend’s younger sister . . . and the danger I was in by continuing to be around her.