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Chapter 11
Idon’t know what I expected a stakeout to entail, but for some reason, I thought it would be a lot more exciting. All of the cop movies and television shows I had watched made it seem like the people doing the stakeout were stationary for mere minutes—eating junk food and drinking crappy gas station coffee—before they were on the move. That wasn’t the case.
We’d been watching Thomas Ollison’s apartment building for nearly three hours when I cracked. “I can’t take this anymore,” I groaned. “There’s nothing going on.”
Texas glanced up from where he was typing away on his laptop in the driver’s seat of the car Marv had gone out and rented for just this purpose. It hadn’t occurred to me that any of them had international licenses considering that we hadn’t really left the country before, but Texas had driven the thing over and parked it without an issue. I, on the other hand, was forbidden from driving it. Which didn’t bother me because I still got turned around in trying to figure out why all of the cars were driving and turning in the opposite direction that I was used to. It felt weird to be sitting where the driver would usually sit but with no steering wheel before me. “It’s a stakeout, Spider-Monkey, what did you expect?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I think it was something a little more hands-on than staring at a wall for three hours.”
He chuckled, clicked a few things on the laptop and then closed the lid before sliding it down to the footboards. “We’re not staring at a wall,” he said.
“You’renot,” I complained. “You’re staring at a computer screen.”
“I can assure you, it’s not any more interesting than what you’re doing,” he replied.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I slumped in the seat and glared out of the tinted windshield at the apartment building across the street. While there were multiple exits out of the building, due to the low brick wall around the property, there was only one entrance into the small courtyard that surrounded the complex.
“We’ve been here for hours,” I complained. “Do we even know if he’s going to show up? What if this guy’s at work?” Almost as soon as the words had left my lips, a thought occurred to me. I sat up. “Wait,” I said. “What does this guy do? Did we determine why he was picking Jenna up in the first place?”
“He’s been in and out of employment for years, but from what I pulled up on his background, he seems to be working mostly menial labor jobs—all part time or contract based,” Texas said. “Restaurant jobs, delivery jobs, those kinds of positions. He usually gets off around seven though, according to his timecards with his current employer.”
“It’s an hour past that now,” I said, nodding to the digital clock on the dashboard.
Texas nodded. “Not everyone comes home straight away and considering the traffic in Sydney, he might not come back for several more hours. Knix didn’t seem to think he’d be one of those come-straight-home types. It’s likely we might not see him at all.”
I returned to staring out the windshield at the gray brick building that was Thomas Ollison’s home. “I just want this over with,” I admitted. “I want to find Clarissa’s niece and just know that she’s okay.”
Texas found my hand with his, reaching across the console and grasping my fingers in a firm, warm grip. “I know you do, Princess,” he said. “We’ll find her.”
Though I wasn’t convinced, I nodded anyway and sighed as we settled in to wait out the rest of our shift. Eventually, Texas pulled away and reopened his laptop while I kept my eyes glued on the complex. Every once in a while, however, I noticed him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Texas?”
He jerked his eyes back down to the laptop screen. “Hmmmmm?” he hummed innocently.
I shook my head. “What’s up with you?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
I pursed my lips and lifted a brow in his direction. “I’m not stupid,” I said plainly. “You keep looking at me like you want to ask me something. What is it?”
Texas was quiet for a moment, unable to meet my eyes as he stared down at my hands in my lap. The silence stretched so long that I started to grow slightly uncomfortable. When I moved my hands from my lap to the sides of the leather car seat and curled my fingers around the edges, he finally took a breath and looked up, meeting my gaze.
Uncertainty settled in his expression. His mouth opened slightly, white teeth biting down on his lower lip as if whatever he was considering needed extensive thought before he just blurted it out. Seeing the reservation on his face unnerved me.
I turned towards him. “Hey.” I reached for his hands and lifted them with mine. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
“Whatever it is, I’m not going to judge you,” I assured him.
He released his lip and sighed. “I didn’t think you’d judge me,” he said. “It’s not about—it’s...just…”
Texas was normally so upbeat and expressive, it was like looking at a completely different person. His eyes were serious. His face drooped with solemnity rather than lifted with amusement. It was so out of character. My heart sped up.Did he regret our relationship? The marriage? Was it the other guys?
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m fucking this up. It’s not you. I don’t want you to—” He stopped and took a breath as if steeling himself. “Bellamy told me that you didn’t use a condom the last time you were together.”
I blinked. Considering I’d had this conversation with Marv only a few hours before, hearing Texas’ words confused me. It hadn’t been what I expected.
