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I would have felt like a jerk ditching Dexter out of the blue after encouraging him to join me, but to my relief, the song was just winding down. I shot him another smile, hoping he couldn’t read the more salacious thoughts that’d been passing through my mind on my face. “Thanks for keeping me company. I think I’m going to go out front just for a minute to get some fresh air.”
Slade or Logan might have insisted on following me out, but Dexter simply nodded, giving me the space I was looking for. We wove through the crowd back to the bar, and I felt him watching me as I made my way along the edge of the dance floor to the front door. He might not have felt the need to directly stand guard, but he was still equally determined to catch any potential threats.
As I stepped outside, the cool night air washed over me, putting a damper on my mess of desires. It was tainted with a chemical smell from the cigarettes of the patrons who’d ducked outside for a quick smoke. Wrinkling my nose, I wandered a little farther down the street away from them to where I could fill my lungs without the unpleasant prickling.
I stopped outside a shop that was closed for the night and leaned against its wall, taking several slow breaths. As my pulse evened out, movement on the other side of the road caught my eye.
A few storefronts down, a couple of figures were standing on the sidewalk next to the cars parked there. One of them I didn’t recognize, but the other I knew in an instant even though he had his back to me.
I’d recognize Beckett’s sandy blond hair and confident stance anywhere. He’d leaned toward the man he was talking to, something about his posture more intimidating than I’d ever seen it around me. His voice was so low I didn’t catch any of the words. But if I’d had any doubt about it being Beckett, he turned his head briefly to glance down the street, giving me a clear view of his profile with its sharply regal nose. His frown drove home that whatever was going on, he was taking it seriously.
He made a brusque gesture, and the man nodded swiftly, his jaw twitching nervously. Beckett clapped him on the shoulder in a motion that looked more imperious than friendly and walked around the nearest car to get into the driver’s seat. The engine thrummed. He pulled smoothly away from the curb and drove off while the guy he’d been talking to hustled away on foot.
A frown of my own crossed my lips as I tried to fit what I’d just seen with the things I knew about Beckett. What kind of real estate developer did deals with random men on the street in the middle of the night?
And if it hadn’t been business, what in the world had that encounter been about?
CHAPTERELEVEN
Madelyn
As Logan drove toward the seafood market, I peered at the screenshot Dexter had sent all of us, taken from the video footage through the cameras the guys had set up in the back alley. The man in the image was standing next to a plain black sedan in the late afternoon sunlight. He’d have been easy to pick out in a crowd with his red hair and full beard.
“How often has he been coming by the market?” I asked.
“Every other day over the past week,” Dexter said automatically. “Always around the same time. He parks by the back door, the manager comes to the doorway, they talk for five minutes or so, and then he leaves again.”
“But we have no idea what they’re talking about.”
“You can’t get much from a camera small enough to hide it properly,” Logan said from the driver’s seat. “Based on their body language, I don’t think they want anyone overhearing anyway.”
Slade hummed to himself. “It definitely doesn’t look like any kind of official store business. He never brings anything or takes anything away. And I’d say the manager looks a little scared of him.”
Dexter nodded. “I get that impression too.”
I dragged in a breath. “And you have no idea who he is?”
“Nope,” Logan said, a hint of frustration coming into his voice. “The car is registered to a woman’s name, so that’s obviously not the guy dropping by. I haven’t been able to match his image to any records involving the store.”
“Which makes it even more likely that he’s part of something unofficial,” Slade put in, clicking his cinnamon candy against his teeth. A whiff of its scent drifted over to me. “So we see where he goes from here and what we can find out from that.”
He made it sound so simple, but I had to hold myself back from squirming on the firm seat. The man we were planning to tail might be wrapped up in Dad’s murder. For all we knew, he was responsible for that murder. A mix of fear and impatience squeezed around my gut.
Now that I was sure Dad really had been killed in cold blood, I desperately wanted to understand why. But I couldn’t help being nervous about where getting those answers might lead us after seeing how violent our last encounter with people connected to the case had gotten.
My phone let out a ping, and I pulled it from my pocket to find a message from Summer.Daily check in. I’m off work, about to exfoliate, shave, and do a face mask. Maybe light a candle for dramatic effect. How are you treating yourself today?
I smiled at her optimistic way of recovering after a hard week. Maybe I needed to look into some self-care tips to ease my stress.I think tonight’s going to be all about writing up assignments, unfortunately.
Her response came immediately.Boring. Wyd now?
I hated lying to her, but I couldn’t exactly give her the full truth. I could only imagine how she’d react if she found out what I’d gotten into and what I believed about my dad now. That wasn’t the kind of revelation you dropped on someone in a text conversation.
But as much as I dreaded her response, I didn’t want to completely fabricate my answer. I hesitated and then typed out,Hanging out with the guys rn.
When the next response took a longer time coming, I could far too easily picture Summer scowling at her phone.
The guys? As in Logan and his friends? I thought you already found your car.
