Chapter 39

THIRTY-NINE

Thomas Thacker cursed as he watched the cop and fed drive away. What the hell was going on with Barb now?

He ducked into the break room at the dealership, his temper flaring. That conniving, lying bitch had fucked up his life years ago but he thought he'd gotten rid of her.

Marrying her had been a mistake. He knew that early on. He'd been working hard to buy a house for them and then she'd started harping about having a kid. Between his long days on the job, screwing her on demand as if it was another job, and forking over thousands of dollars for IVF, he hadn't been able to keep up with the bills.

So he'd dipped into the funds at the garage he was working at.

Getting caught was her fault, too.

Then they'd lost the kid and she'd become a bag of bones, crying all the time and then deserting him when he'd been fired.

Then she'd done what she'd done…

He glanced down at the message on his phone. Yvonne, his fiancée. It had taken him years to pull himself out of the gutter and work his way here to the Mercedes dealership. It hadn't hurt that Yvonne was the owner's niece.

Starry-eyed and young, she saw the best in him.

If she found out what he'd done, what Barbara had done, what he'd let her get away with, she'd turn her back on him, too.

He'd gone to Barb's the other day to make sure she kept her mouth shut. But she'd run off. And now the cops were looking for her—if they found her, she might spill her guts.

Unless he found her first and spilled them for her.