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"I don't know. Just piecing things together."
The first thing she was going to do when she could get back in her house is go to the basement and see if something was there. Sitting here and thinking about it now, she didn't always lock her doors. South Pass was safe, or so she thought. The ringing of his phone broke into her thoughts.
"Montgomery." His Bluetooth engaged.
"Marcus is on his way to South Pass. He's about forty-five minutes out."
"Thanks, Rory. I found the shack; they're staying there, or they were. They saw my truck and took off on a four-wheeler into the woods. If they think they've been found, they'll be moving again."
"Okay. We'll be watching Marcus. No idea if he knows you're there or if he has orders to find Waylon, but I have two patrols watching Stephano's house, and I'll have locals watching Marcus."
"Thanks, Rory. Any word from the fire department on Megan's house? We'd like to get in there if we can."
This was news. Good news. Maybe. She watched his profile as he drove. Classic nose, dark brows over those impossibly dark eyes. His coal black hair reflected the sunlight as a mirror would. A few silver strands above his ears glinted in the sun. How had she not noticed those before? It gave him that silver fox appeal, not that he needed more than he already had. What on earth was wrong with Tamra to let him go? To intentionally push him away?
"I'll call you back with word. I haven't heard from the chief today at all."
"Okay. Thanks."
A click sounded, and the call ended. "There's never any banter with you two. Are you friends outside of work?"
"Of course. We served together. We're brothers—battle brothers."
"But it's always so ... ah, clinical or something when you talk."
"Lately, when we talk, it's about work. When we talk outside of work, it's different. We have dangerous jobs, and we need our attention focused on the task at hand."
"Okay." Made sense. When she and Jolie talked on the phone, it could go on and on for an hour or more. They always had so much to say while actually saying nothing. She'd have to see if Ford would let her stop by to see her friend. She must be worried sick.
"Still have that burner phone I gave you?"
"Yeah."
"Pull up an Airbnb in South Pass for tonight. I don't want to stay in the same place."
Okay, that was good, it would keep her busy for a bit, and maybe her stomach would settle.
Finding a place she thought would work out—on Main Street, easy to see the area and easy for the police to patrol, she told Ford about it. He leaned forward and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. "Use the Visa."
Just as she finished booking their room, Ford's phone rang once again.
"Montgomery."
"No go on the house, Ford. Chief says maybe later. They're in there right now finishing up the investigation."
"Roger. Thanks." He turned to face her. "I'm going to have to go ask a few questions of some of the patrons at The Bullseye. I understand that's where Waylon hung out. I hate to bring you in there. It's not the place I'd ever want my woman to venture into. That said, do you think your friend Jolie is home for a short visit?"
Now this sounded good. He called her “my woman” which was exciting in a caveman sort of way, and she was going to see Jolie.
"My woman?" She had to give him a little grief.
"You don't think you're my woman?"
Wow. Her heart started its racing again for about the tenth time today, but this time it felt awesome. "I guess I hadn't thought about it."
He chuckled and turned down Second Street on the edge of town that would bring them close to Jolie's house.
Needing to lighten the suddenly serious vibe that just entered the truck, she responded to his earlier question. "She's a stay-at-home mom; she'll be home."
