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“Doesn’t make him innocent.” Chet didn’t want to appear unappreciative of the favor Tucker had called in. Hell, he understood all too well how much it cost Tucker to call his old friend’s widow. But if Professor Lipton—a man who had repeatedly hit on his wife, knowing she was married—wasn’t guilty, it meant someone he knew was. The thought soured the beer in his gut. “I gotta get out of here.”
Without waiting for Mia or Cruz, he stalked across the old wooden planks. He kept his head down, pushing through the door and gulping in fresh air to keep from throwing up. Gravel crunched under his boots as he crossed the lot to his truck. He just needed a few minutes away from everyone and everything to get his bearings before driving Mia home.
Yanking open the driver’s side door, his gaze caught on something small and fluffy sitting in the middle of the bench seat. A red cowboy hat sat on the top of its head, and it had only one little beady black eye.
Riley’s teddy bear.
The world tilted, his head spinning, and the sour beer churned in his stomach before shooting up into the back of his throat. He ran to the edge of the lot, purging the contents of his stomach.
If only he could expel everything else eating him up inside as easily.
17
Chet’s head spun. The last few days, his life had been caught in a disgusting pattern—horrifying discovery followed by no evidence to shine a light on the person responsible. No witnesses or clues or as much as a freaking shadow to point him in the right direction.
Because right now, the only direction he wanted to go was straight home. Where he could draw the shades and hide away from the world. Sit in the solitude he’d craved for so long yet had alluded him since the day Mia slid down a hill and uncovered a shallow grave.
Instead, he sat inside the Chill N’ Grill while people bustled around him. Taking statements and discussing video footage that didn’t show a thing. Pressure squeezed his chest and the pain in his heart had him hunching over the table. His scars burned, and he grasped his wrists, pressing his fingers into the raised flesh in a futile attempt to make it stop. To make the pain, the memories, the assault on his damn life stop.
He squeezed his eyes shut against the agony ripping into his soul, but the faces of everyone he’d loved and lost flashed across his mind, forcing his eyes open again. Mia and Zoe sat at the table with him, but for the first time in the last couple of days, Mia’s presence did nothing but suffocate him and remind him that he had no right doing whatever the hell it was they were doing. If history had taught him anything, it was that the people he cared about most where the ones who met the most violent ends.
And he could do nothing to protect them.
Lincoln marched between empty tables, shoving aside chairs in his way, coming to a halt in front of Chet. “I’m so sorry, man.”
The weight of despair sat heavily on his shoulders, stealing his ability to move. To speak. To even think. So he sat, staring at the mounted buck head above the stone fireplace.
“Did you find anything at all?” Mia asked.
Lincoln shook his head.
“I’ve got to get out of here.” Chet staggered to his feet. He gripped the edge of the table as he swayed.
Mia shot up and rounded the corner. She cupped his elbow in her palm. “Here. Let me help.”
Her touch sent waves of guilt and shame down his arm, and he jerked away. “I’m fine.”
She flinched and dropped her gaze to the floor but didn’t say a word.
Good. He didn’t need her spewing out words of comfort. Meaningless sentiments wouldn’t do him any good right now. Not when his heart was shattering. Not when his arms ached to hold Riley again, but all he had left was the scuzzy teddy bear that his daughter used to drag around everywhere. But even the bear was encased in an evidence bag, beyond his reach.
Zoe cleared her throat. “Mia, do you want to come hang with me and Brooke for a little bit? We’re thinking about adding a spin class for the guests at the retreat, and if I like it, I might even make room for some bikes at the studio. We plan to attend a class this afternoon. I’d love to get another opinion.”
Relief sagged Chet’s shoulders. He didn’t have the energy to worry about Mia right now. Hell, he barely had the energy it’d take to walk out of here and get his ass home. Once he was there, all he wanted was to be left alone. And not even the shock of hurt in Mia’s eyes could change his mind.
“Sure,” Mia said, forcing a tight smile. “I’ll need to grab some clothes. But a workout sounds like the perfect way to clear my mind.”
“Call me if you find anything,” Chet said. Not wanting to face any more questions or pity or disappointment, he marched past the cluster of people all wanting to help, none of whom could do anything. Because at the end of the day, nothing would bring back his family. Nothing would put his daughter back in his arms. And nothing would knit the broken pieces of his heart back together. He pushed out the door and narrowed his gaze at his truck.
Dread fisted his throat. Another part of him violated. Another treasured item broken into and tarnished. A burst of determination straightened his spine. He didn’t want to sit in that truck and feel the presence of the asshole who tormented him. He wanted to find that asshole and make him pay.
Needing to make his head right and calm down, he opted to turn toward the mountain road that ran in front of the restaurant and straight into town. He’d walk, giving himself a few moments alone and the peace of the cool spring day to let his nerves settle. He’d focus on the beams of sun streaming through the blossoming trees, warming his skin, and the slopes of the mountain peaks.
Then he’d switch gears and stop pissing around with ridiculous thoughts of a future with Mia or hope that someday his life would get better. None of that mattered right now. All that mattered was justice for his family, and one way or another, he’d get it.
He might not have all the answers, but the first place he needed to go was Truly’s Trading Post to speak with Eddy. Eddy had already lied once about Bobby’s whereabouts. Chances were high he’d do it again. And right now, Chet was tired of the bullshit. He’d get the answers he needed out of Eddy if he had to squeeze them out of his skinny neck. Because as much as it killed him to admit it, right now, Bobby was looking more suspicious by the second.
* * *
