19. Colt

19

COLT

It was nearing midnight when I left the station, but I couldn’t find it in myself to go home. Not yet. All that waited for me there were hours to mull over what a prick I was and Bowser’s deep snores. So instead I walked toward The Barrel. If I killed another hour or two, maybe sleep would find me when I finally made it home.

Shady Cove was locked up tight, every shop and restaurant still. There was nothing that indicated someone in my town could do the things I knew they’d done: break into a police station, give Dawson a concussion that was severe enough the hospital was keeping him for observation…abduct Emerson.

Because it was looking like Ridley hadn’t done it. The files her editor submitted had been verified by our tech. She’d been recording off and on during the entire window of the crime. There was no way she could’ve been the one to break in.

And worse than that, I’d hurt her. I could see it in those deep blues. I’d cut her to the quick.

Fucking hell.

I hauled open the door to The Barrel, and let the music and voices wash over me. It wasn’t the balm it normally was. Neither was seeing familiar faces, like Ezra on a stool, or Celia and Mira chatting it up at a table, or even Trey at his usual station behind the bar. Still, I made my way over to him.

“Whiskey or Coke?” he asked, the most important question for now.

“Better make it a Coke.” With everything going on, I needed my faculties.

Trey dumped ice into a tall glass and shot soda into it. “Start talking.”

There was no sense in keeping the details close. They would make the rounds by morning regardless. “Break-in at the station. Our cold case room. Dawson got clocked good, and he’s in the hospital for the night as a precaution.”

“Hell,” Trey muttered, then those gray eyes went flinty. “This is about Emerson.”

It wasn’t a question, but I answered it anyway. “There were three cases that were disturbed, and hers was one of them.”

“That’s not a coincidence,” Trey growled.

“No, it’s not.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to alleviate the tension headache that was brewing there. It didn’t help. “You got any painkillers back there?”

Trey crouched, opening a cabinet and pulling out a bottle of Tylenol. He handed it over. “You need food? Kitchen’s closed, but I could probably scrounge something up.”

“Just need the drugs and a Coke,” I muttered.

Trey’s lips twitched. “Only the hard stuff for you.”

I washed down the two pills with a swig of Coke. Somehow I didn’t think they’d touch the ice pick jabbing the backs of my eyes.

I felt Trey’s eyes on me more than saw them. That probing energy trying to figure me out. “There’s something else,” he said.

Again it wasn’t a question. But that was the way Trey operated. Putting together the pieces without asking a single query.

My throat worked as I swallowed. “Had to ask Ridley where she was.”

Trey was silent, letting the sounds of the bar swirl around us. Finally I was forced to look up. He leaned against the back bar, hands gripping the wood, a tattered copy of To Kill a Mockingbird resting there. He reread it every year. The pages were yellowed and bent, the spine cracked in a million ways.

I focused on that instead of him. I’d take the book’s judgment over Trey’s any day. But it was just as accusing. And it had every right to be. A different sort of prejudice lived inside me, but it was prejudice all the same.

Finally Trey spoke. “Why do I get the feeling it wasn’t a polite inquiry?”

I forced my focus to my friend, taking in the disappointment on his face. “I thought it was her. She’s the only newcomer I know of who’s got an interest in Em’s case.”

Trey just shook his head. “You don’t think her looking into this could stir things up for whoever took Emmie? Jesus, Colt. I know you’re a better cop than that.”

My hackles rose, irritation digging in. “I looked into Ridley. Detective in Iowa told me she bends the rules.”

“Bending the rules is a hell of a lot different than breaking and entering and assault,” Trey snapped.

He had a damn point. And I knew it wasn’t Ridley, but that didn’t change the fact that it could’ve been.

“What happened?” A voice cut into the tense silence between Trey and me.

I glanced over at Ezra, who was nursing a beer, and sighed. “Break-in at the precinct. Dawson was injured.”

Ezra’s eyes went wide, and his red cheeks paled slightly. “He gonna be okay?”

“He’s fine. Just has to stay overnight as a concussion precaution.”

Ezra gripped his beer bottle tighter. “You think it was that reporter? She doesn’t look like she could pack a punch, but looks can be deceiving.”

Yes, they could. And that was the thing I hated most about the aftermath of Em’s kidnapping, how it changed the way we both looked at everyone around us.

“It wasn’t her,” Trey clipped from behind the bar.

Ezra’s brows lifted. “You sure about that?”

“I am,” I cut in. “She’s got an alibi.”

Ezra let out a huff of air. “I watch Criminal Minds ; alibis can be faked.”

“Jesus,” Trey muttered.

And I didn’t blame him. The last thing we needed was Ezra turning vigilante on us.

“This is airtight, Ez. So just hold off before you make a citizen’s arrest,” I told him.

He scowled down at his beer. “You two aren’t the only ones who care about Em. Last thing I want is her getting hurt because this woman is digging where she doesn’t have any right to.”

“Emmie wants her here,” Trey snapped.

My eyes flared as I shifted to take in Trey.

He shoved off the back of the bar. “She supports what Ridley’s doing. Wants her to find the truth. So maybe both of you should ask her what she wants before assuming.”

And with that, Trey stalked down the bar to check on the other patrons.

“Shit,” Ezra muttered.

Shit was right. Emerson hadn’t said a word to me about wanting Ridley here. But I also hadn’t asked her how she felt about it. I’d simply avoided the subject altogether, thinking that was the best route to take.

Shoving my stool back, I stood and pulled out my wallet. I tossed a ten-dollar bill on the bar. It didn’t cover me being an asshole, but it was better than nothing.

I clapped Ezra on the shoulder. “Thanks for caring about my sister.”

He glanced up at me, his ruddy complexion back to normal. “Of course. We take care of our own, right?”

I nodded but didn’t say a thing as I headed for the door. Because I couldn’t get my vocal cords to make the sound of agreement. Not when there was someone walking around who was capable of hurting the innocent and possibly so much worse.