No new messages. Still those words. Still the trunk waiting like a bad dream.
Sam watched him over the steering wheel. “Your mom doing alright?”
Wyatt swallowed. “She’s… she needs her meds. Can we stop by the pharmacy and then maybe you could drop me back at my place? I have some parts to fix my car with.”
“You should take the rest of the day,” Sam said. “Be with her.”
Wyatt opened his mouth to argue.
Sam cut him off. “That’s me being a decent boss. And that’s me not wanting you half-distracted out there.”
Sam glanced at Lucy. “She agrees.”
Lucy sat tall and alert, as if she’d been deputized.
Wyatt nodded once. “Okay.”
“Good. We’ll handle the rest.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Wyatt had to tell another lie at the pharmacy. He jogged inside like he was in a rush, leaned on the counter, asked about a refill that didn’t exist. Came out with a small paper bag of random junk—gum, mints, a bottle of water—shoved deep into his jacket pocket. If Sam had looked, he would’ve seen there was no prescription slip, no label.
Luckily, Sam didn’t look.
Back in the Tahoe, Sam eased them out of the lot. “They get your mom squared away?”
“Yeah,” Wyatt said. “She’s good.”
Sam nodded once, then flicked him a sideways glance. “What’s wrong with the Charger, anyway?”
Wyatt’s shoulders tightened.Besides a body in the trunk?“Just a timing issue.”
“What’s it doing?”
“Rough idle. Worse on cold start. Little hiccup when I hit the gas.” The words came automatically, the way they did when he talked cars, even with his brain screaming about the trunk. “I already swapped the plugs and coils. Still got the same skip. Points to timing.”
“You need help fixing it?”
“No.” He unclenched his jaw and made himself sound calm. “I’ve got the belt kit in the garage. Couple hours and it’ll be fine. I just didn’t have time this morning before you called.”
The drive settled into quiet.
Too quiet.
Wyatt kept his hands locked on his thighs, fingers digging into denim. His thoughts moved too fast, too loud. He barely registered the trees flashing past, the bends in the road. Normally he could’ve mapped this route in his sleep. Today he had to fight just to stay present.
He should have told Sam no this morning. Should’ve made up an excuse. But when the call came in, his mind had still been stuck on the impossible, and he hadn’t been thinking straight.
Now, he had no choice but to deal with it.
Sam turned onto the dirt road to Wyatt’s place. Gravel popped under the tires. “Text me when you get to your mom’s,” he said. “If your car craps out again, I’ll come haul you in.”
“Yeah.” Wyatt’s voice came out thin. “Thanks.”
The second they pulled into his driveway, a pulse of tension moved through him.If Sam insisted on looking at the car…
His house sat quiet, unchanged. The dirt road leading up to it was still undisturbed. No new tire tracks. No fresh footprints. No movement in the trees.