I stared at the empty parking spot and let her have the silence. Annette had been keeping agents alive long enough to know which questions mattered and which ones could wait until a man wasn’t standing in the middle of his own consequences.
Her voice sharpened. “I’m not asking why your keys were in jeans you weren’t wearing, because I don’t want to hear you lie this early. We recover your mobility first. Then we recover Kemp.”
The words hit exactly where they needed to.
My grip tightened around the phone. “Her sedan is still disabled near Old Quarry Road unless someone moved it overnight. My truck went right out of Pine Shadow toward Bearclaw.”
“You need a ride.”
“I need eyes on likely dump points.”
“You need a ride first, Dex. You can’t chase a stolen truck on foot unless you’ve become more impressive since yesterday.”
The old part of me that hated help opened its mouth. I closed it.
“Who can you send?” I asked.
“Rudy Bonner is already awake because his dog hates sleep and his wife hates him pacing. I’ll send him your way. He can get you from Pine Shadow and help run the trailhead pullouts.”
“I don’t need a search party.”
“You don’t have a truck.”
“I know that.”
“Then enjoy the miracle of other people having vehicles.” Paper rustled on her end. “I’m also putting a note on the disabled sedan so we don’t lose that location. Do you want county notified about the stolen truck?”
“Not yet.”
“Dex.”
“She’s a skip who stole a recovery vehicle after escape. I know what it is. I also know she’ll dump it fast. If county lights up the pass, she buries herself deeper or bolts into worse terrain.”
Annette stayed quiet long enough for the office hum to come through the line.
“You’re angry,” she said.
“I’m aware.”
“You sound worse than angry.”
“Send Rudy.”
“I’m sending Rudy. And Dex?”
“What?”
“When you get your truck back, get your head back with it.”
The line clicked dead.
I lowered the phone and looked toward the road.
Getting my head back would be easier if I hadn’t left part of it in that room with her mouth around my name.
I opened the recovery packet on my phone while I waited. North Fork had sent the digital copy when the job came through, and the paper packet was in my truck, wherever she’d left it. The screen glowed pale in the gray morning.
Crystal Kemp.
