“He’s using?” Beckett’s brows pulled tight.
“He had every sign of it when I saw him at Jack’s.”
“I’ll pass that knowledge on to Cleaver,” Beckett said. “But yeah, I agree about Stoney.” He shifted again, his voice gentling. “Speaking of, I talked to him about having Mikey help us out with your dad.”
My chest tightened, gratitude and guilt twisting together. Not just because I couldn’t afford to hire anyone, but because I didn’t know how to tell my father we were having someone watch him without crushing what pride he still had.
Reading me as he always did, Beckett offered a solution without me saying a word. “Mikey wants to get his EMT certificate and a Fire Science degree after he graduates next year. We’ll tell your dad I traded access to my textbooks and notes for him watching the kitten.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“It’s not perfect. Mikey has got his swim schedule. But between the three of us, we can make sure your dad is only alone for a couple of hours at a time.”
“If I know your schedules, I can see what I can do at the hospital to switch things around,” I said.
I needed to go to bed if I wanted any chance of surviving another long day in the ER. But leaving this sweet moment, this shared warmth and companionship, felt impossible. Beckett had said he liked me coming hometo him, and the simple truth was, I liked it too.
Seeing him curled up with Vader and Dorothy, waiting for me, had hit me square in the chest.
I was just deciding how to pull myself away from his intoxicating embrace in order to head to bed when a piercing crack split the night. I jerked away from Beckett, and Vader shot to his feet with a snarl, charging for the door. A second, equally loud blow reverberated through the night and sent Beckett rushing to the windows.
I was right behind him as he flipped the wooden shutters open. With no streetlights on this end of the cul-de-sac, it was nearly impossible to see anything beyond the reflection of the living room lights.
The sharp, unnatural clang of metal hitting glass rang out a third time, followed by a sickening shattering sound. My stomach rolled, fear pulling every muscle in my body tight.
Beckett slid his feet into a pair of sneakers and yanked open the door, barely catching Vader’s collar as the dog growled and attempted to leap out the door.
I reached for Beckett, trying to hold him back. “Beckett! Don’t go out there.”
He looked down at me, face full of fury. “Stay here. If this is our friend leaving another gift, I’m going to end it right now.”
He stepped out on the porch, shutting the door and locking a distraught Vader inside with me. I ran to my bag and dug through it until I found the pen-sized Taser Parker’s dad had given me when I’d gone off to college.
With the stun gun in hand, I opened the door to race after Beckett, and Vader slid past me before I could catch him. His bark was fierce as he headed straight for Beckett, who stood on the sidewalk, hands fisted, scanning the street.
When I’d arrived home from my shift, the night had been full of sounds, owls and insects, and the soft rush of the river behind our homes. Now, the dark was nearly silent beyond Vader’s warning rumbles. A darkness hung in the air that sent a shiver up my spine.
Beckett caught Vader’s collar, and the two of them stormed in the direction of my truck parked in front of Dad’s. As I joined them and saw my destroyed windshield, I felt the color bleed from my face. It had taken a lot of fury and muscle to do this much damage.
A porch light went on at the Helmers’, and movement in their front yard caught my eye. A figure dressed in dark clothes slinked across the lawn, heading in the direction of Main Street. Vader howled, breaking away from Beckett and shooting off like a pistol.
Beckett was right behind him.
Alerted to the chase by the bark, the person in the hoodie burst into a full-out sprint.
I did my best to follow them, but my much shorter legs couldn’t keep up with Beckett’s long ones in a high-speed foot pursuit.
By the time I caught up, Beckett was on Main Street, and I was out of breath. He was standing under a streetlight, once again gripping Vader’s collar. Both of their chests were heaving, but it was Beckett’s expression, full of anger and remorse, that did me in.
“I lost him,” he bit out angrily. “I fucking lost him. One moment he was there, and then, poof, he was gone.”
I looked toward the throng of people standing around outside One-Eyed Frank’s. It appeared to be a group of tourists, saying goodbye, with some of them already heading toward the parking lot. My eyes caught on a bench near the bar’s entrance and a small black mound sitting atop it. I crossed over to it and saw it was a discarded hoodie. Plain. No logo that I could tell, but I wasn’t about to touch it.
Beckett and Vader joined me.
“Whoever this was used the crowd as cover,” I said, shaking my head in confusion and fear. “This all seems ridiculously dramatic, Beckett. Like we’ve landed in the middle of some crime show.”
He used one arm to pull me to him, placing a soft kiss on my temple. “The person was tall. Not as tall as me, but taller than you. And lean. I never caught a look at their face or hair with that hoodie pulled up and hanging past their ass, but we have more to tell Cleaver than we did before.”