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Hannah needed them.
As he tore through town, that refrain seemed to ring through his head. He might not have a permanent role in her life anymore but he could do this for her.
He killed his headlights before her parents’ street. The neighborhood was quiet, ordinary, the houses all glowing cheerily with Christmas lights.
He immediately saw the black pickup truck, a few houses down from the Goodwin house, parked at the curb. He pulled over in front of a house that once belonged to his high school football coach. Of all the houses on the street, this one didn’t have any holiday lights and the yard was dark, exactly what he wanted.
After letting Kodi out, he gripped the dog’s lead and the two of them made their way toward the other vehicle, staying in the shadows as much as he could. It was a cloudy night, which made it slightly easier to remain out of sight.
Too bad he didn’t have backup. He should have thought of that before racing over here.
He should have tried to mend fences with Hannah’s brothers. The Goodwin boys would have been great to have on his six in this kind of situation.
At least he had Kodiak. The Malinois seemed to flow along beside him, silent and intent. Wes rested a hand briefly on the dog’s neck, grounding both of them.
With as much stealth as he could manage, he approached the vehicle from the passenger side. Whoever this guy was, he had been showing up too often to be a coincidence. It was long past time to get to the bottom of things.
At the truck, Wes gave Kodi a small hand signal. When he yanked open the passenger side door, the dog leaped in with more energy than he had exhibited in weeks, teeth bared as he snarled with vicious intent.
Wes slid in after him, giving the dog the command to guard the subject.
“Hands where I can see them,” Wes barked.
The man inside seemed frozen in shock at first. After a heartbeat, his hands came up slowly and rested on the steering wheel.
“Easy,” he said, his voice rough but calm. “Easy with the dog.”
Kodiak held position, chest vibrating with a low warning growl. The cab smelled faintly of coffee and leather. Wes’s senses automatically logged details of the subject. Early to mid-sixties. Broad shoulders. Weathered face. Eyes sharp, despite the tension.
And steady. Not the kind of steady of someone who had been in trouble with the law but somebody who had spent time on the other side. Wes felt it immediately in the way the other man didn’t look at the dog or Wes and kept his gaze forward, hands visible.
“You’re going to tell me,” Wes said, voice flat, “why you’ve been following Hannah Goodwin.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man said stiffly, still not looking at Wes.
“Try again. I’ve spotted you at least three times near her house or where she’s working. What do you want with her?”
A muscle worked in the man’s jaw but he didn’t answer.
“What’s your name?” Wes demanded.
“Ed. Ed Walker.”
“You live around here?”
“No.”
“Then why are you stalking Hannah?”
Ed’s jaw tightened. His gaze flicked briefly to Wes then away. “I’m not stalking Hannah. I’m trying to find my daughter.”
At his stunning words, the cab went silent except for Kodi’s low rumble. The dog crouched on the seat, muscles taut, eyes fixed on the man. If he hadn’t been so focused on figuring out what the hell was going on, Wes might have been able to spare the time to be heartened by Kodi’s well-trained instincts.
“You want to try that again?” Wes asked, voice flat. “I need more details. Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“Can you call off your dog?” the man asked. His tone wasn’t belligerent now, just . . . tired. “I’m not going to drive away. You have my word.”
The raw edge in his voice tugged at something in Wes. He laid a hand on Kodiak’s ruff.
