Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
I slide it across the counter toward him using the same pen from earlier.
"I assume you touched it?"
"So did Hope."
"Anyone else?"
"Nope."
He picks it up, scanning it. "Does she recognize the handwriting?"
"No."
"I'll get it to our fingerprint tech and see if he can pull anything from it." He pulls a bag from his pocket and flips it out before sliding the letter inside. "Find anything in the security footage?"
"Yeah." I queue up the footage of the note being delivered and play it for him. An hour before someone threw a rock through her window, a teenager in a dark hoodie walks into frame with his head down. He slips the note through the mail slot, then walks out of frame in almost the same place he entered.
A few seconds later, headlights beam across the front of the building and a small sliver of a small passenger car's fender and taillight can be seen. The car is a dark color, blue or black, maybe. But the taillight is busted.
It's not much to go on, but it's better than nothing. A teenager driving a small passenger car with a busted taillight is a starting point. He's a connection to whoever the fuck wrote that note.
"I'll get my guys on it." And then he frowns. "Where is Hope?"
"In the back." I sigh wearily. She's been hiding out there all morning. I had to go get her to ring Finn up. As soon as she was done, she fled back to the stockroom. I don't know what's going on in her head, but it's driving me fucking crazy. Every damn wall I knocked down yesterday feels like it's been rebuilt and buttressed since she found that damn note.
She's scared and trying like hell not to let me see it.
I can't miss it, though. Her fear burns like acid running through my veins. And there isn't a goddamn thing I can do about it beyond what I'm already doing. It doesn't feel like enough. Not even close.
"Find them, Dillon," I growl, not sure if it's a demand or a plea. "Whoever the fuck is behind this…I need you to help me find them."
He places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. "We will, brother."
"Do you know what happened between her parents?" I ask after a moment, glancing up at him.
He jerks his chin in a nod. "Yeah, I'm familiar." His gaze runs across my face. "Why? You want to know what happened?"
"No. She'll tell me when she's ready to trust me with that part of her story. I just need to know… Did he hurt her too?" The question that's been eating at me ever since she told me what happened to her mom escapes in a painful rasp. "Did he… Fuck. Did he try to kill her too?"
"No," she whispers from behind us.
I spin around to find her standing in the doorway, her face pale. Her fathomless eyes wide.
"Firefly." I reach for her, but she evades me, stepping backward.
"He didn't hurt me."
"I should go," Dillon mutters. "I'll call if I find anything. Send me a copy of the security footage when you can. I'll try to track the kid down."
"Will do."
He beats a hasty retreat as Hope and I stare at each other in silence.
"I wasn't prying."
"We should go," she says at the same time.
"Go?" My brows pull down, confusion running through me. "Go where, Firefly?"
"Home." She wraps her arms around herself. "I completed the online orders, and the weather is keeping everyone inside today. I'll get more done in the shop at home than I will here."
"Are you sure?"
She nods.
I hesitate for a moment and then reluctantly give in. "Let's go home then, baby. We can talk when we get there."
Hope tries to evade me when we get home. As soon as I pull up behind her car, she's got Kieve in her arms, trying to climb from the truck.
I throw it in park, kill the engine, and hop out, circling around to cut her off on the sidewalk. Rain sheets down around us, drenching us both.
Kieve shivers in her arms, cold and miserable. She looks miserable too.
Poor little firefly.
"Come on. Inside with you," I murmur, scooping them both up into my arms to carry them the rest of the way to the door.
I set her on her feet on the porch, keeping my arms around her as she unlocks the door. Droplets of water roll down her chilled skin. Her shirt clings to her body. Even with her hair plastered to her head, she's the prettiest little firefly I've ever seen.
Kieve takes off for his pile of blankets beside the sofa as soon as we're over the threshold, burrowing in with loud complaints. No one ever accused him of suffering in silence.
I need to make sure they have umbrellas and raincoats next time.
Hope starts in his direction and then spins to face me. "He shot her because she was planning to take me and leave," she says, her voice shaking. "He'd gotten addicted to painkillers and was becoming volatile. Little things set him off. He locked me in my room one day while she was at work and wouldn't let me out. When she found out, she was furious. She didn't trust him with me anymore, so she was planning to leave. He found out."