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I check in on Zion and spend a few minutes watching Ma fuss over him before Makenzie arrives. As soon as she sees Zion, she sinks to the floor. My brother is across the room to her in two steps, pulling her onto his lap.
I avert my gaze, trying to give them a little bit of privacy as they share a private moment. When he starts growling that she's marrying him, I decide it's time for me to get the fuck out of there.
I leave Ma with Zayne and head to the truck, eager to get back to my girl. After seeing Zion with his, I'm more convinced than ever that Kenna is the only woman for me.
I try to call her on the way to the truck, but she doesn't answer.
I notice several missed calls from Trent and dial his number to see if he has anything for me. Surely, he's calling with good news.
"Hey, I've been trying to reach you."
"I know. That's why I'm calling. What's up?"
"I have something."
"Give it to me."
"John Ballentine and Clive Rucker are old high school buddies," he says. "Rucker nearly lost the bar a dozen years ago. Guess who bailed him out?"
"Jesus. You're sure?"
"Positive. I even pulled up the damn yearbook. They were tight."
"Tight enough for Clive to commit crimes for him?"
"Tight enough for John to pay off a quarter of a mill in gambling debts to save his bar," Trent says. "You wanted someone who owes John; he's your guy. It looks to me like he owes him a whole helluva lot."
"Fuck." I never even considered Rucker, but I should have. He had access to the entire bar. He could have easily slipped into the dressing room and planted those photos. No one would have noticed. Why would they when he owned the fucking place?
Same thing with the flowers and the poem. I'm guessing at least some of them showed up at his place. Kenna's been playing there two and three times a month since she hired John.
The missing piece has been staring me in the face the whole time. It was that motherfucker.
"We need to find him," I growl, popping the locks on the truck and climbing in.
"Already on it," Trent says. "I had dispatch issue a BOLO fifteen minutes ago. And I've got an unmarked sitting outside his house. When he shows up, we'll be ready to snatch him up for questioning."
"I want to be there."
"Hell no. If you want anyone to do jail time, you need to stay away, Carmichael. If you fuck up the investigation, they'll walk. You know how fucking hard it is to nail a stalker's ass to the wall."
"I didn't say I wanted to be in the room. You can put me behind the glass wall for all I care. But I want to hear what he has to say. He's our link to Ballentine. Until we find him, I need to know what the fuck we're dealing with."
"Son of a bitch," Trent growls. "Fine. I'll run it by the captain."
"Do that."
My phone buzzes with an incoming call. I glance at the screen to see Kane's name. "Let me call you back. I need to fill Kane in."
"Don't you two try any cowboy shit," he warns me. "I mean it, Carmichael. If you go after him and he slips through your fingers, you'll blow the only advantage we've got."
"I'm aware," I snap. "Jesus. This isn't my first time around the goddamn block." I hang up on him before he pisses me off any more, swiping to answer Kane's call. "Hey. I've got news."
"Where the fuck is Kenna?"
"What do you mean where is Kenna? She's supposed to be with you. She told me she was going to call you to go to the studio with her."
"She did call me," Kane growls. "I just got to your place to get her, but she isn't here."
