Logan, Archer, and even Lucky…they all knew what he was going through. It was a hell he didn’t wish on his worst enemy, and one Chase wasn’t sure he’d survive.
“Hey Boyer!”
They all turned to see Detective Travis Knox making his way over to where they all stood. Chase met him halfway. Technically, the man was assigned to homicide, but the department—namely, Knox—and the Eagle’s Nest group had an understanding.
We scratch his back, he helps us out when he can.
“You find something?” Chase asked, feeling as if his sanity was hanging on by a thread.
Regret filled the tall man’s light blue eyes. “Not yet. I was just letting you know the techs are finished processing your truck. As you know, with the airbags deployed, it’s not drivable.” He handed Chase a business card. “That’s a tow service I’ve used before. Oh, and I already spoke to the property’s owner, and he said there’s no rush in getting it moved.”
He took the card, shoving it into his jeans’ back pocket.
“If you do leave it here overnight”—Knox spoke up again—“be sure to take out anything personal before you go. Never know when some assholes will show up looking to steal whatever they can find.”
“Thanks, Travis.” Chase shook the decorated detective’s hand. “Appreciate it.”
“You sure you don’t want EMS to look at that cut?” The man’s gaze grew concerned. “I talked them into staying a little longer in case you changed your mind about accepting medical care.”
“I’m good.” He was far from fucking good, but whatever.
Time spent with the paramedics was time Scottie couldn’t afford for him to waste.
“I’ll call if anything new comes up,” Knox offered. “I trust you and your team will do the same.”
“Of course,” Logan answered for Chase and the others.
The man gave them all an appreciative nod before turning and walking away.
“Come on.” Lucky put a hand to Chase’s shoulder. “You work on getting your shit from your truck, and I’ll check on the programs I have running to see if anything’s popped up.”
Accepting that nothing more could be done until they had a bead on Scottie’s location, he followed Lucky’s suggestion and moved over to the still-opened front passenger door. His intentions were to get the paperwork from his glove box, but Chase froze mid-reach when he spotted the purse lying on the floorboard below.
He assumed the partially unzipped bag had been thrown to the floor on impact. Either that or when she was forced from the truck.
Chase carefully began gathering the items scattered about, putting them back inside her bag so she’d have her things when she returned.
A cherry ChapStick. Her set of keys. A small, round mirror. Her wallet.
The items blurred as a well of unshed tears rushed to the surface. But Chase blinked them away, refusing to give in to his fear for the woman he loved.
Something else caught his eye. Something made of white plastic that was sticking half-out from beneath the seat.
Chase reached down, pulling the item free. At first, he had no idea what the damn thing was. But then…
Oh, my god!
No way. No fuckingwaythis was real.
But as he read the word displayed in the tiny, digital window, Chase knew inside his heart it was true.
Pregnant.
“Logan!”
Natalie’s shouted voice came from someplace behind where Chase remained frozen. She sounded alarmed, and winded. But he couldn’t seem to get his body to move enough to see what the woman wanted.
“Nat?” Logan sounded surprised to see his wife at the scene of the crime. “Sweetheart, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay?—”