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“What’s wrong?” Lia called out, smart enough to stay inside the building to avoid the cutting wind.
“My tires are flat.” Straightening, Kaden moved back to the open door, holding out the pocketknife so she could see what caused the damage. “This was no accident. I don’t suppose you have a security camera?”
Her lips parted in shock, but with a visible effort she quickly shoved aside her disbelief that someone would vandalize his Jeep in broad daylight and considered his question.
“I have one inside, but it wouldn’t cover the alley. Do you want me to call Ray Sykes?”
Kaden swallowed his disappointment. He very much wanted to know who was responsible for slashing his tires. And why.
“Who’s Ray Sykes?”
“He runs the local automotive shop.”
Kaden shook his head, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Another shiver raced through him as he scrolled through his emails.
“No need. I’ll call the rental company. It’s insured.” He pressed in the number and held the phone to his ear. A few minutes later, he was shoving it back into his pocket. He was used to living in the city. He hadn’t taken into account the fact he was two hours away from the rental office and that the snow was swiftly piling up. “They can’t get a replacement here until tomorrow.”
She grimaced. “I doubt Ray would be any quicker. He usually has to order his parts. Even tires.”
Kaden considered his options. He had a couple of cousins who lived in Madison and one in Green Bay. He could call any of them and they would be happy to come and pick him up. But it didn’t make sense to leave town when they would be bringing the replacement car tomorrow, did it? And he still had to make a police report for the insurance to pay for the damages.
“Is there a hotel in town?”
She hesitated, her nose wrinkling before she answered. “Yes.”
“You grimaced.”
“It’s not a five star.”
Kaden’s lips twisted. Over the years, he’d slept on the streets of Hollywood, in the back of a van on a movie set, and in a tent in the Mojave Desert while his business was being constructed. A cheap hotel was nothing.
“No problem. It’s just for the night.”
“I can drive you there.” She nodded toward the nearby SUV. “I’ll grab my coat and purse.”
“Thanks.”
Kaden moved to the vehicle, not surprised to discover it was unlocked. People in a town like Pike didn’t expect bad things to happen. Hopefully, the events of this morning would encourage Lia to be more cautious. Knocking the snow off his boots, he climbed into the passenger seat and pulled the belt across his body. A couple of minutes later, Lia joined him and started the engine.
“Someone really hates Jeeps,” he murmured as they inched past his disabled vehicle. “Or they were sending me a message.” He glanced down at the knife he held in his hand. There was nothing special about it. In fact, he would guess half the men in town carried one that looked exactly like it. Which meant there was no reason to hand it over to the sheriff. The idiot would probably toss it in the trash.
“A message?” Lia broke into his thoughts, driving through a maze of snow-packed streets with the confidence of someone who’d lived in Pike her entire life.
“You don’t have a jealous boyfriend lurking around town, do you?”
“No boyfriend. And if I did, he wouldn’t be the sort of guy who would go around slashing tires.”
He turned his head to study the pure lines of her profile. There was something utterly unique about Lia Porter. It was no wonder he found her so fascinating.
“What sort of guy would he be?”
She shook her head, refusing to take the bait. “We’re discussing who vandalized your vehicle.”
“If it wasn’t done out of jealousy, it could be a disappointed fan of my latest special.”
“Doubtful.”
“You’d be surprised.” Kaden was shocked by the messages he received after he started his reality show. Then there were the uncomfortable confrontations when he just wanted to have a nice meal or enjoy a movie. “I’ve had death threats from mothers who are angry their kids tried one of my stunts. And men who think I should be shot for restoring a Vincent Black Lightning motorcycle instead of leaving it a rusting pile of junk.”
