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“Because I knew your dad. And he never breathed a word about you.”
Hunter scowled—but something about this was meshing with what Silver had said when he came after him and Kate at the Merrick house. Or what Calla Dean had said at the carnival.
Had his father kept him a secret?
But . . . why?
His head was overfull with confusion, and he couldn’t take one more thing to second guess. “Maybe it means he just didn’t give a crap.”
“That’s not how being a father works, kid.” Bill gestured to the bags. “There should be enough food for tonight and tomorrow.”
So Bill expected them to sleep out here, on the beach. It was October, and the night air was already growing cold. Hunter glanced at the back door and deliberated for a long moment before swallowing his pride. “Any way we can crash on your floor?”
“Not an option.” Bill’s voice was hard again.
he remembered one person who was “off the grid.”
Someone who’d refused to help.
Hunter didn’t have a phone, so he couldn’t call, but he knew exactly who to go to.
Becca’s father.
CHAPTER 28
Bill Chandler lived in a little gray rental on the water. Hunter had only been here once, the day Bill had asked him to watch Gabriel, but he remembered the way. The clapboard siding needed a new paint job, and the gutters were coming loose along the left side of the roof, but it was secluded, private, and no one knew he was here.
Exactly what Hunter needed.
A green pickup truck sat out front, the DEPARTMENT OF NATURAL RESOURCES logo visible on the side.
Bill was home.
He opened the door when Hunter knocked. “Becca’s not here,” he said.
“Good. I need your help.”
Bill’s gaze sharpened, probably taking in the blood on Hunter’s clothes. “I told you not to bring your mess to me.” He started to close the door.
Hunter put a hand against the wood. “Help me or I’ll tell them all where to find you.” He paused, very aware that Kate could be bleeding to death in the front seat right now. “I’ll tell them about Becca.”
“Don’t you threaten me, kid.”
“Damn it!” snapped Hunter. He was ready to pull his gun and shoot this guy. Or himself. “Help me. Please. Just help me.”
If Bill said no, he didn’t know what he’d do.
He was officially in over his head.
“Fine,” said Bill. He gave Hunter a once-over. “You’re hurt?”
“Not me. Kate. Come on.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Then Bill shut the door in his face.
Swearing, Hunter went back to the car. Her eyes were closed, but she made a small sound when he pulled her into his arms. Her breathing was shallow.
