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“If you don’t, I’ll hunt you down. I want details.”
“Alright. Love you. Later.”
He disconnected, slipped his phone in his pocket. Someone had been hanging out here, and, from the number of cigarettes, they’d been there for a while. He glanced around, warning lighting through him, when he realized from that spot in the woods whoever was looking would be concealed, but there was a clear shot of Cedar’s house.
He studied the ground around the butts, saw the footprints, and followed them through the woods to a section of her property that butted up against the road. He hunched down, in front of the oil spot; it was still wet. What the fuck. He stood, reached for his phone.
“Hey, Boss—”
He cut Johnny off. “I need you at Cedar Walker’s place, but come down Sassafras Road.”
“What’s up?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
He hung up and snapped a few pictures. Then walked up and down the street, saw another butt, same brand as the ones in the woods. He snapped a pic of that. Johnny pulled up and parked.
“I need you to bag this,” Killian said and waited for Johnny to do as he asked before he started back into the woods. “With me.” He pointed. “Take pictures of the footprints and cast one. Then photo and bag these,” he said, stopping at the pile of butts. “I want you to run a DNA test, see if we get any hits.”
Johnny was looking in the direction of Cedar’s house. “You think someone’s watching her? Frank?”
“Maybe, look into him, find out his whereabouts for the last few days. And see if he smokes and what brand. Someone was definitely watching the house. I want to know who and why?”
“You think she’s in trouble, or do you think she brought it with her?”
Yeah, Johnny would make an excellent sheriff. “Get it done.”
“You want me to run her?” he asked, gesturing to the house.
“No.” If anyone was going to invade her privacy, it was going to be him. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Alright.”
He started back to the house but stopped and added, “Check in with Sebastian. It’s his job to know the land, see what he can tell you about this property, particularly since it sat empty for so long. Teenagers might be using it to party.”
“Will do.”
He strolled back to Cedar’s house. It was possible Frank was watching, but that wasn’t really his style. He was more in your face. Was it possible the person watching her house was a peeping Tom? He rejected the idea; she was new and a looker, but they’d have had calls about other incidences. No, his instincts were telling him whoever had been in those woods had been there for one purpose, surveillance. So the question was, were they watching her because of where she lived, or was she the target? And if she was the target, what the hell was in her past that would have someone following her halfway across the country?
When he walked into the kitchen, Cedar was at the table. “Everything okay?” she asked, as she stood, crossed to the stove, and plated up breakfast for him and his dogs. “Coffee?”
“Yeah, please.”
She set his plate on the table where there was already a fork and napkin then brought over the coffee and a mug but no sugar or cream. She caught him watching and asked, “You take it black, right?”
“Yeah.” She gave his dogs their bowls then sat down.
“Aren’t you eating?” he asked.
“Not hungry,” she said, lifting her mug and taking a sip.
He scooped up the eggs, nodded his head because they were cooked to perfection, with a little spice. “This is good,” he said, before he took a few more mouthfuls. He then reached for his mug, turned his focus on her and asked, “What brought you out to Wyoming?”
She studied him for a few seconds, before she set her mug down. “When I was a kid, it was the one place I wanted to live, open spaces, mountains and the blue sky that seems bluer here, if possible.”
“Why now?”
Silence followed for a few beats, her voice softer when she shared, “After I lost my parents and Brock.”
