Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Castiel’s eyes went from the bike to me.
“What?” he asked.
“There was a man staying at the other campsite,” I said. “He slept in his car.”
“How do you know that he slept in his car?” Rome asked.
I looked over at the big ex-football player and shrugged. “It was either that or outside under the elements. And I never saw a tent there. Just him sitting in his car.”
Castiel shook his head. “There was nobody there when I came to get the RV.”
“And you said the park was closed to through traffic, correct?” Zee asked.
“Yep,” Castiel answered. “They were open from ten to eleven this morning when we came to pick it up for all the campers that were checking in for the day. That’s it.”
“Not totally ruined.” Bayou dropped down on his haunches next to the motorcycle. “Gonna need some body work. Some new parts. But it’s drivable. Looks like he did this with a bat or a crowbar. Only surface damage really.”
I agreed.
But still. It looked really bad.
At first I thought someone might’ve hit it with their vehicle, but upon closer inspection, it did look to be a metal pipe of some sort that seemed to do all the damage.
“Whoever did it was pissed as hell,” Liner muttered. “Takes a lot of anger to put that kind of damage on a piece of steel.”
I agreed with that for sure.
“Could be a sign that whatever case you’re on, you’re close to figuring something out,” Linc suggested. “Didn’t you say there was a break in the case today?”
Castiel nodded. “Even more than a break. The man that’s suspected of doing the murders messed up and went online to upload his newest movie. The IP address, though routed through multiple fake destinations, still shows to be oriented in Bear Bottom. Or at least within a couple miles of our location.”
Bayou bent over and picked up something off the ground, then held it out to me. “Anybody you know smoke?”
I didn’t reach for it.
“No,” I instantly replied. “And I don’t want that.”
He held it out to Castiel then. “Might be something of use to you. I know this isn’t evidence from whoever trashed your bike, but maybe it’s his and he’s been watching your house, too.”
Castiel pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, then gestured for Bayou to drop it into it.
He did, and Castiel folded the piece of fabric up around it before shoving it back into his pocket.
“I have to go back to work,” he admitted. “Thanks for helping me get it.” Castiel sighed, his eyes going to me. “Come inside for a second?”
I shrugged and did as he asked, heading with him into the house.
“I’m sorry about your bike,” I said softly.
Castiel shrugged. “It’s a bike. Luckily, I have good insurance on it. But, for now, I’m stuck driving that stupid car that makes me feel like I can’t breathe.”
I rolled my eyes. “Over exaggeration much?”
He grinned and lurched for me, wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me straight up off my feet.
His face was only inches from mine as he said, “I don’t know what happened to my bike. I don’t know why. It would be super if you could pay attention to your surroundings today.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I have to go into the funeral home and do a little work on a few people that came in late last night. Their families want their services as soon as possible, so I’ll be there all day. I have to finish up my subtitles tonight for the project that I’ve been working on. If I’m not there at the funeral home, I’ll be here in the RV,” I told him. “There will be no need for worrying on your part.”
He blew out a relieved breath. “I’m not saying that anything will happen…I just have a bad feeling and I want you to be aware.”
I leaned down and kissed him on the nose. “Go ahead and stop worrying. I’ll be following you into work anyway.”
He winked. “Sounds like a plan, Stan.”
I snickered and reached for my keys that were in his hand. “Stay safe today.”
Chapter 19
I’ve had my name mispronounced so many times at this point I’m not sure I’m saying it correctly.
-Text from Castiel to Turner
Turner
I finally realized why the guitar disappeared on Mondays and Wednesdays a week later when I might’ve accidentally followed Castiel to where he snuck off to.
It wasn’t because I didn’t trust him or anything.
It was because I was just fucking curious.
That, and I had a lot of spare time on my hands.
And when I was left with spare time, I was left thinking about things that I shouldn’t be thinking about—like who was going to bake the pies for Christmas, and who I was going to help make the mashed potatoes and stuffing with. Who was going to make the broccoli cheese rice casserole that happened to be one of the only things I could stomach after my surgery and loved.