“Fine,” Miranda wheezed out. She would have answered more forcefully, but her sister’s vise-like grip around her chest was squeezing out every ounce of oxygen from her lungs.
Natalie released her and spun around to face the deputy. Her face took on a mama bear ferociousness as she crossed her arms. “Do you have this whackado in custody?”
The deputy held up his hands. “Ma’am—”
“Don’t you ma’am me. I want to know—”
“It was Carl,” Miranda said.
The pronouncement stopped Natalie in mid-diatribe. Her face blanched. “Carl? From the brewery?”
She nodded her head. “I was about to call you to get his address out of his personnel file so the sheriff’s deputies could interview him. Do you think Sean’s still there? He could get it.”
“Of course Sean’s there. I don’t think that stubborn beast leaves the brewery, but we don’t need him.” Natalie pulled her phone out of the tan messenger bag slung across one shoulder and began clicking away at the keypad. “I upgraded the system so that all the files are in high-security, password-protected Cloud storage. It’s accessible anywhere that has an Internet hookup or cell signal. Really, it’s just basic business continuity planning. I’m sure you would have thought of it eventually.”
“If you say so.”
“Here it is. Carl Brennan, 5528 Fourth Street, Salvation, Virginia.” Natalie glanced up and absentmindedly hooked a finger around her pearl necklace. “Do you need phone numbers?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The deputy scribbled into his notepad.
“It’s 241-5622.” Natalie scrolled down the tiny screen. “I don’t see another number, so I’m not sure if that’s home or a cell.”
“Thanks. I’ll be sure to follow up with him.” The deputy closed his notepad and slid it into an inner pocket on his standard-issue brown jacket. “In the meantime, stay alert.”
Miranda rubbed her palms against her upper arms. Being hyperaware was not going to be a problem. Not freaking out once the adrenaline stopped pumping through her system? Now that could get iffy.
Chapter Fifteen
Logan’s fingers drummed an impatient beat on his steering wheel while he waited for the red light to turn green and tried to process the news Hud had just delivered. He was going to wring Carl’s neck like a wet dishtowel. As soon as he found him, which—considering how frickin’ long the light was—could be another decade. No other cars were traveling the opposite direction, but here he was cooling his jets on the corner of Main Street and First Avenue like a no-nuts asshole. He yanked the staid red and blue striped banker’s tie from around his neck and tossed it onto his suit jacket lying in a crumpled heap in the passenger’s seat.
His gaze dropped down to the Bluetooth display on his dashboard showing Hud’s cellphone number. “Are you sure about this?”
“Based on what she said to the deputy, I don’t see how it could be anyone else.” His best friend’s voice boomed over the truck’s speakers.
The light finally changed, and Logan sped through the intersection toward Salvation’s busiest road, Route One, which was littered with fast food restaurants, gas stations, shopping centers and bars. “And you didn’t see any paint scraped onto her car?”
“I gave it a good go-over before leaving it at the impound. Her bumper is shot, her grill is dented, but I didn’t see anything. Now, maybe, if they go all CSI, they’ll find something, but let’s be realistic. This is Hamilton County, not Harbor City. No one was hurt. And the county is squeezing every penny possible out of each tax dollar as it is.”
Logan punched the gas. “And the sheriff has arrested half her family at one time or another, so he’s got no reason to waste resources on a Sweet.” He hooked a right onto Route One, his tires squealing against the pavement. “So it will be her word against Carl’s.”
“Bingo.” Hud paused. “So, what’s the deal?”
He switched to the left lane and passed a mini-van going the speed limit. “What do you mean?”
“With you and Miranda.”
Everything. Nothing. Not nearly as much as he wanted. “There is no Miranda and me.”
“Coulda fooled me.”
Shame prickled his skin as he remembered the way he’d treated Miranda when she walked into his office a few weeks ago, how condescending he’d been when she’d burst into the investors meeting at The Kitchen Sink. She hadn’t been a person, just an adversary fucking up his plan. Now she was more than that. She was Miranda.
“My family and the rest of this town have treated her family for shit for generations. I’ve been right with them, acting like a complete ass.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
“What makes you think I’m going to do anything?” Logan pulled into the Spotted Pig’s parking lot. It was half full, but dusk was falling fast. It wouldn’t be long before vehicles filled every available spot.