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“I know where she lives,” he says belligerently. “She’s at her uncle’s old place. I just don’t know how to find it in these shithole backwoods.”
“And you thought I could help since I live in these shithole backwoods.”
“Yeah,” Gideon says flatly, without the grace to look embarrassed.
“Gideon…Gideon…” I say, like I’m struggling to remember. Then I snap my fingers. “Oh, right, you’re the one who cheated on her.”
Gideon jerks like I slapped him.
“Sorry, who the fuck are you exactly?”
I’d like to say,Remi’s new boyfriend,but even I can’t make that bullshit sing. Not even to annoy this also-ran.
“Don’t worry about that—worry about why the fuck I would ever show you where she lives?”
“How about ‘cause I never fucking cheated, for a start?” Gideon shouts. “Not that it’s any of your business!”
Even though he reeks of douchebag, there’s something righteously offended in his tone that makes me pause for half a second.
My brain is ticking, considering several different scenarios.
What I’d really like is a little more information.
So I soften my tone, dialing back the aggression, even pretending a note of apology.
“You’re right, that was out of line.” I step out of my house, gently closing the front door behind me. “Why don’t you come with me…I can show you where to go.”
* * *
28
REMI
Pounding on the front door startles me awake. I’m usually up early, but last night I tossed and turned through a series of nightmares so grueling that I practically had to wring the sweat out of my sheets.
Even though it’s well past noon, it feels like I didn’t sleep at all. My skull is throbbing, and I’m seriously regretting how much chardonnay I had to drink with Annie to get her to spill her guts.
The knock comes again, louder and more insistent.
“Okay, okay,” I grumble, rolling out of bed onto the floor so I can crawl around and look for my pants.
I haven’t actually considered who might be at the door, and when I see a tall, masculine shape through the glass, my heart skips a beat. I shouldn’t want it to be Dane, but that’s exactly what I’m hoping for even though nothing’s changed—it’s still his word against everyone else’s and how I feel against how everything looks.
When I open the door, I get the nasty surprise of Sheriff Shane’s pissed-off face. I’m guessing he’s grumpy because something made him miss his triple stack of waffles with his two best deputies, not to mention the pleasure he gets from annoying the hell out of Emma by scattering sugar packets all over the table every time he doctors up a fresh cup of coffee.
“How can I help you, Sheriff?” I say in the same tone of voice I’d use to tell him to take a long walk off the edge of the Grand Canyon.
“You recognize this car?” He holds up his phone to show me an image of a shiny blue truck.
“I don’t think so…” It kind of looks like Gideon’s truck, but it can’t be because Gideon’s truck is back in New Orleans.
“How about the driver?” He swipes his thumb to switch to the next image, a grainy snapshot of a driver’s license. This time, it’s impossible to deny Gideon’s face or his full name and birthdate printed below.
“That’s Gideon…” I’m starting to get a very bad feeling. “My ex. Why are you—“
“I’ll ask the questions.” Sheriff Shane cuts me off. “When’s the last time you spoke to him?”
“A month or so ago—he texted me, but I didn’t answer.”
