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She shook her head. “No. But we should doublecheck the notebook I gave you. I might have written down something and can’t recall at the moment.”
The deputy turned to look at her and widened his eyes. “I’m sorry. Who are you?”
Owen cleared his throat, swinging the other man’s gaze his way. “This is Marie Robinson. The woman who was involved with Bill Flanders. Marie, this is my dad. Sherriff Mike Wells.”
Mike nodded and extended an arm.
Marie accepted his outstretched hand and tried to quell the disappointment blooming in her chest. Owen’s words were true, but was that all he saw when he looked at her—the woman who was stupid enough to get mixed up with Bill?
She dropped her hand and smoothed her dirt-smeared tank top. What Owen thought of her didn’t matter. He was investigating her blood-sucking ex, and she was a victim who would run back home as soon as Bill was found. “Hello. Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” Mike dropped her hand and trained his focus back on Owen. “Something else of interest—Edward Jones is Steven Piper’s nephew. I put more pressure on the administrative assistant at Piper Properties to get us in touch with him. If he’s involved in this mess, there’s no telling where those two might be holed up. He has properties all over the county.”
Marie’s mind wandered to the destroyed lab they’d found in the treehouse. The broken glass and knocked-over equipment told of a hasty escape. They might not have taken all of their stuff, but they’d definitely taken whatever drugs they’d mixed. “Would this kid know how to make a synthetic opioid? I could be wrong, but I think that’d be outside of Bill’s capabilities.”
Owen glanced at Mike, who shrugged. “Not sure.”
One EMT ran to the front of the truck and the other clamped a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “We gotta go.”
“Go with Tommy. I’ve got this,” Owen said.
Mike pulled Owen into a quick hug, handed him a set of keys, then hopped into the back of the ambulance. “Be careful. Call if you need me.”
“Try not to flirt with those nurses,” Owen called to Tommy before they slammed the doors closed.
Marie stood beside Owen, the warmth of his body seeping into her skin, and watched the flashing lights disappear from the parking lot. Owen relaxed against her, and she stood tall to support his weight. “Are you okay?”
Owen sighed and straightened, running his hand over his face. “I will be. I haven’t been that scared in a long time. But I can’t dwell on it now. I need to look at the information my dad found about Edward Jones and call his mom.”
Marie stayed close to his side as they crossed the deserted parking lot to his car. “It doesn’t sound like your dad got much from her.”
“True, but I need to start somewhere. I don’t know anything else about the kid except who his uncle is, and Steven Piper isn’t making himself available right now.”
“Your dad said he hasn’t been going to school. He must be a senior if he’s eighteen. Why don’t we talk to some of his teachers? Could you talk to his principal? They always seem to know what’s going on with kids. Especially in small towns.”
Owen turned toward her with a wide grin, some of the haunted shadows slipping from his eyes. “You’re brilliant.”
She smiled and a different kind of warmth spread through her—one that didn’t have anything to do with the temperature.
11
Marie glanced around the neat-as-a-pin car as Owen maneuvered out of the parking lot and headed toward town. Not as much as a straw wrapper littered the floor. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. It’d been years since nervousness had swept through her while alone with a handsome man—and even longer since she’d worried about what a man thought of her.
She yearned to flip down the visor and check the mirror, but she’d probably cringe at her make-up free face and air-dried hair. Why hadn’t she swiped some mascara over her lashes or dabbed concealer on the bags under her eyes?
A curve in the road took them over a bridge, separating the river from a man-made lake. Lily pads dotted the surface of the water. She tilted her head and studied the water, the high level nearly brushing against the bottom of the bridge. She swallowed hard, and her heart beat like a heavy drum against her chest. “Is the lake usually so high?”
“No. Water’s high all over town with the rain we’ve gotten. If it doesn’t stop soon, it’s going to be a nuisance.”
Memories of another lake, another life-or-death situation where control was ripped from her grasp, assaulted her. Goosebumps erupted on her arms as if the cold water from long ago still clung to her skin.
Marie leaned her temple against the cool glass of the window and glanced up, needing to take her mind far away from the deep, dark abyss beside her. “No rain yet today. That’s a good sign.”
“The clouds over the horizon don’t look good, and the weatherman calls for more rain tomorrow. We’ll need to prepare for flooding soon.”
She didn’t want to think about flooding, about rushing currents hurtling toward her with nowhere to run. She tore her gaze from the passing sky and studied the strong lines of Owen’s profile. “You mean in all your spare time?”
Owen snorted and shot her a tight-lipped expression.
