Jesus, I almost missed him, distracted by Piper. But I know it’s him. I recognize him from the mug shot.
He knows we’re looking for him, I think, as I watch him dart from tree to tree still a good forty feet from us. Trixie tipped him off, most likely. He’s sticking to the shadows, though the basic white cotton tee he’s wearing makes him stand out.
I reach for my phone, snagging it off the dashboard, when Piper shuffles in her seat, her hand shooting for the door.
“Hey.” I stop Piper before she pops the door open and turn her to face me, my hands on her arms. Her muscles tense as I pull her back toward me. “Where are you going?”
Her eyes lift to mine and she blinks, a frown spreading across her lips. “You said we were going to ask him some questions.”
I stifle a groan at that. Yep, bringing her along was definitely not a good idea.
“We, as in me, Jase, and Wes,” I clarify. “And in order to do that, I need to let the guys know that he’s here. But you … You’re gonna keep that hot little ass of yours planted right here in this seat.”
She gapes at me, as though she thinks I’m fucking with her, but I’m not. The guy has already tried to hurt her once. There’s no goddamn way I’m letting her get within spitting distance of him tonight.
“I’m coming with you,” she says, her voice all whiplash warning. “I’m part of this.”
This time, I can’t stifle the groan that slips out, but I don’t humor her with any further of a response, as I quickly tap out a message to Jase and Wes, letting them know Chad’s in the park, closing in on the street, and that he’s acting skittish.
He’s expecting us—or someone.
He’s watching.
He’s waiting.
They both come back with messages instantly, and my mind works fast as we quickly strategize. The park is too open, too many places for him to run, too many chances for him to get away. My eyes dart around in the darkness, looking for a place to corner him, but the only thing that stands out is the small picket fence surrounding Trixie’s yard.
It’s not ideal, too open and public for my taste, but it’ll have to do.
Piper’s silent as we send quick messages back and forth, her gaze shifting between me and Chad as he slowly makes his way along the edge of the grassy area toward the house, choosing to stick close to the minimal tree coverage instead of cutting a straight line to his target.
He creeps closer—fifteen feet away from the street at most—moving right in front of the truck, and I nearly laugh when he barely spares us a glance.
He’s oblivious, it seems.
Or perhaps it’s not us he’s trying so hard to hide from.
“What are you waiting for?” Piper asks as I shove my phone into my pocket. “He’s going to get away.”
“He won’t get away,” I say, keeping my eyes on the target. “I’m waiting for the guys to get into position. We’re gonna corner him by the fence so he can’t take off running.”
“Oh.” She looks out the windshield, her gaze scanning the street, and she exhales a long impatient breath. “Where are they?”
I fight a smile at her brisk tone. “Jase is moving along the trees to our right.” I point him out, and then pause, waiting, eyes scanning for Wes. “And Wes just rounded the corner on our left.”
Chad moves another few steps, and then stalls, hesitating. His eyes linger for a moment on Jase, and then Wes, as they move indifferently down the sidewalk toward him. He must not think they are a threat, because he shoves his hands in his pockets, and then ducks out of the shadows, keeping his gaze on the ground.
Turning to Piper, I give her a look. “Stay here, yeah?”
“Vance …” She huffs out a breath and folds her arms over her chest, pouting dramatically. “I just … I want to hear what he has to say … why he’s doing this to me.”
“Fair enough,” I say. “Why don’t you let me find that out and I’ll let you know later.”
She opens her mouth to speak, but before she can respond, I reach for her, tangling my hand in her hair at her nape, and tug her to me. Tilting my head, leaning further into her, I pause with my lips just a breath away from hers.
“You need to stay put and out of sight, Piper,” I say against her lips, my eyes locked with hers. “Can’t deal with him and worry about you at the same time.”
She must read the resoluteness in my tone, because she nods erratically and then takes a deep breath, swallowing hard as though clearing a sudden lump in her throat. “Okay.”
I press my lips to hers, kissing her quickly.
She kisses me back urgently—aggressively—pouring all her frustration and anger into it.
She’s angry with me for telling her to stay put.
She’s frustrated that she knows I’m right.
The kiss only lasts a second before I pull away, and get out of the truck, closing the door with a quiet click.
Chad is halfway across the street when I hit the sidewalk. I stroll toward him, in no rush, closing in behind him. Jase and Wes are about ten feet away, moving in on either side, boxing him in.
My gaze flickers toward Piper, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see her still sitting in the truck, before picking up my pace.
I hit the middle of the street as Chad steps up onto the opposite sidewalk. His head is still down. He’s not paying any attention to us, rushing to the driveway of his girlfriend’s house.
“Yo, Chad,” Wes says, keeping his voice low and steady as he greets him. “Glad I finally caught up with you, man.”
Chad freezes, and then spins around, frantically taking a few steps back, nearly backing right into Jase. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Name’s Wes,” he says, and then jerks his chin toward me. “That’s Vance, and the guy behind you is Jase.”
Our presence unnerves him. I can see it on his face as he swivels, taking us in, eyes darting around as though looking for a way out.
He looks like a rat caught in a maze.
His head turns and his gaze latches onto the small fence behind him. I can see the exact moment he decides to try to jump it, the idea flashing loudly across his expression. He turns, his hands reaching for the top of the waist-high structure, and I open my mouth to stop him, but Jase beats me to it.
“Don’t even try,” Jase grinds out, his voice cold and harsh. “If you make me fuckin’ chase you, you won’t like what happens when I catch you.”
Chad hesitates for a moment, considering whether or not to test Jase’s threat no doubt, before he slowly lowers his hands and turns back to us. “Look, I don’t … I don’t have the money on me, but I can get it.”
My brow furrows. “Money?”
“It’s in the house.” Chad glances behind him. “Just back off and I can get it for you right now.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Jase’s forehead crease with confusion. He casts a disbelieving look my way, arching a questioning brow, and I shrug. I don’t know what he’s talking about. I haven’t heard a word from any of my contacts about him owing anyone.
“Relax,” I say. “We’re not here for money. We just have a few questions for you is all.”
Chad tenses, his body rigid. He stares at me, studying my face, deciding if he should believe me or not.
Five seconds pass … ten … fifteen, before something like recognition passes across his eyes, and he lets out a startled laugh. “Shit. You’re those private investigators that were talking to Trixie earlier, aren’t you?”
Wes nods. “Yeah, that’s us.”
Chad’s expression shifts, twisting with rage. He takes a step toward Wes, his hands curling into fists.
He looks like he’s gonna take a swing, but so does Wes.
They glare at each other for a tick.
“You assholes caused a lot of shit for me,” Chad snarls, his glare shifting between us. “Filling Trixie’s head with lies about tormenting some Piper chick, telling her I vandalized this chick’s house, and the bit
about the truck … That girl paid me to loosen the bolts for her.”
My skin prickles as I listen to him, and something ugly coils inside me that I quickly try to unwind before it wraps me up too tight and I lose sight of what we’re really doing here.
I want to punch him.
Fuck. I want to beat him until he bleeds.
I pull in a deep breath, and slowly let it out. “You saying someone paid you to loosen the tire on that truck?”
“Yeah,” he says right away, taking a step back. “Someone paid me.”
There’s no hesitation. No shifting eyes, or twitches.
I think he’s telling the goddamn truth.
Taking another deep breath, I ask, “And you didn’t see anything wrong with that?”
He shrugs. “It was her truck. She said the tire was flat and she couldn’t get the bolts off. Paid me a hundred bucks to help her out.”
“You actually see that flat tire?” Jase asks.
“I don’t know, man,” he says. “I was wasted. I loosened the bolts, offered to change the tire, too, but she said she could handle it, so I took the cash and took off.”
“What about—”
“You’re lying.”
I stall, mid-question, and turn around, staring at Piper. Her eyes are watering, her cheeks, nearly as red as her hair. She stares at Chad, her body so tense it’s as though she’s holding her breath, fighting to keep her fury within, but she can’t contain it all. It leaks out, dribbling down her cheek in a tear.
She looks as though she’s ready to burst, though whether it’ll come out in tears or a storm of fury, I don’t know.
What I do know is that I need her to go back to where she was, before either of those things happen.
“Go back to the truck, Piper,” I say, fighting to keep my tone calm. “You don’t want to do this right now.”
She doesn’t respond, and she doesn’t go back to the truck.
No, instead she comes closer, her fiery eyes glued to Chad and her hands curling into white knuckled fists, hissing, “I never asked you to touch my truck. I never paid you to loosen my tires. Tell the truth, you asshole!”
I stare at her for a tick, feeling my jaw go slack.
She looks vicious, so far removed from the sweet and quiet girl I know.
“The girl I helped out was a blond,” Chad says slowly, his tone almost hesitant as though he’s worried she might actually attack him. “Trixie told me about your accident and I’m really fucking sorry, but I swear, I thought I was helping someone.”
Piper’s eyes narrow at those words, and she stares at him.
And stares.
And stares at him some more.
“You were caught on video that night by my truck,” she says quietly. “The police are looking for you and I’m going to call them now. You’re going to tell them everything you know. Everything you remember about her. If you do that, then I’ll make sure these guys are going to work there asses off to clear your name.”
Jase lets out a startled laugh, and Wes gapes at her.
I merely grin, shaking my head.
“I can do that,” Chad says without hesitation.
Un-fuckin’-believable.
Piper
I don’t call the police.
I don’t need to.
Moments after I make the statement, Detective Cruz pulls up. One of the guys must have called him before they even got out of their vehicle.
It takes a little over thirty minutes for us to fill him in, answering questions, explaining the situation, before he lets me and the guys go, and hauls Chad off to the station to collect his statement.
Vance doesn’t say a word to me as we get into his truck. My heart is pounding so fast I can feel each beat, each thump, in the tips of my fingers. He’s in a peculiar mood, not quite angry, not entirely not.
I don’t know what to make of it.
As soon as my seatbelt is in place, he pulls out of the park and onto the street. His eyes stay focused on the windshield, not even glancing at the mirrors as he drives, keeping his neck tense as though he doesn’t want to risk looking in my direction.
I think I screwed up.
Big time.
I’m just not sure if it’s because I got out of the truck when he explicitly told me not to, or if it’s because I offered his help to Chad without asking him first.
I’m not sure it matters either way.
Five minutes pass in silence, before I start to fidget.
Another two minutes, and I feel as though I’m going to scream or perhaps even cry, just to make some noise and release my pent up anxiety.
“I know you’re mad at me,” I say, unable to contain my nerves any longer. It’s been awhile since I’ve felt this nervous around him. I guess I’ve grown used to him, comfortable with him, but now, with the odd mood he’s in, I’m not sure what to do with myself.
It just feels … different somehow.
He feels different, uptight and relaxed all at the same time.
“I’m not mad,” he says. “Shocked, maybe a little frustrated, but not mad.”
“You seem mad,” I counter. “If it’s about me getting out of the truck, I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t sit there and watch. I couldn’t do it.”
“I know,” he says. “And like I said, I’m not mad.”
I turn to him confused, and he gives me a look that I think is supposed to be reassuring, but it only manages to cause more unease.
“If Chad needs help clearing his name, I’ll pay for it.”
He lets out a sharp laugh. “Jesus, Piper, it’s all good. Stop worrying so damn much.”
“Then what is it?” I snap, frustrated. “What’s eating at you?”
He cuts his eyes to me and frowns, before turning his focus back onto the road. “Thought we had him,” he mumbles after a moment. “Thought this shit was gonna be over, but all we’ve got now is that the girl behind everything is blonde. We’re no closer now than we were a week ago.”
It’s a fair statement, but I don’t know what to say. I’m trying to stay positive. I want to believe the quietness of the last week means it’s over.
My stalker is gone.
The vandalism is over.
But I think, somewhere deep down, I know it’s not. I just don’t want to give voice to the worry. I don’t want to make it real.
Instead of babbling on and making the tension worse, I turn back to the window, watching the houses fly past as we drive toward my place.
Vance doesn’t say anything when we arrive, only pulls his truck over to the curb, not even bothering to pull into the driveway. He doesn’t even look at me, just stares out the windshield, his entire body tense behind the wheel.
It burns.
I turn in my seat, getting ready to ask him if he’s okay, if everything’s okay between us, when his eyes finally meet mine. The look he gives me makes my question freeze in my throat, the dark shadows in his eyes making me suck in a sharp breath.
“If I ask you to stay in the truck, will you listen to me this time?” he asks, his voice deathly calm.
My stomach coils and sinks. “I, uh, I … what’s wrong?”
He sighs. “That’s what I thought,” he says, and hesitates for a long moment. “Look at the driveway, freckles.”
The tone of his voice freaks me out, scares me so much that I want to refuse.
I don’t want to.
I can’t help it.
I have to look.
I look.
My heart races faster than before, so frenzied it hurts my chest as I slowly turn toward my house, catching sight of my driveway.
I blink.
I blink again.
And then I gasp.
The driveway just beyond the sidewalk is now marred with foul orange spray paint with even fouler words written across the surface. A poster board sign on a spike, jabbed into the lawn has the word whore scrawled across it, another with the word slut, and another with the words you were warned
.
My hand is shaking as I lift it to my mouth, my entire body rattling against the seat, as I fight back the tears that threaten to fall.
This can’t be happening.
This can’t be real.
My vision blurs with tears and I squeeze my eyes shut. I will not cry. I will not let this get to me. It’s not the first time my property has been ruined. It doesn’t matter what the words say.
It doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter.
But it does matter. It matters a lot.
Vance puts an arm around my shoulder, tugging me to his chest. I resist at first. I know the comfort will be my undoing. But he’s not having it. His hand comes up to cup the back of my head, tucking my head up under his chin, and my resistance breaks.
I suck in a breath.
And another.
And then I cry.
It’s not pretty.
There are no cute little sniffles or hiccups.
It’s messy and ugly. I’m gasping for breath, sucking in mouthfuls, but getting so little air my lungs scream and burn.
I let it all out. I don’t really have a choice in the matter. My body has taken over, determined to purge all the grief and fear and pain I’ve been bottling up since this whole mess began.
It’s not until my shaking stops and my tears dry up that Vance loosens his hold on me and says, “We need to call the cops.”
Chapter Fifteen
Piper
“Can you explain to me how none of these cameras caught the person who did this?” I ask, waving around one of the crudely painted signs as Vance opens the garage door.
He cuts his eyes to me, regarding me peculiarly, before he lets out a long sigh, ending it with the word, “Piper.”
That’s it.
That’s all he says.
He strolls over to me, reaching around me, his hand coming to rest on my hip, as the other reaches for the sign, gently taking it from my hand and tossing it into the garage behind him. He says nothing, but his thoughts are there, written in his dark eyes and in the frown marring his face.
He’s just as angry as I am.
He’s also getting frustrated that I keep asking the same question.