“Bill’s truck,” she said, barreling right on ahead, as though they were sitting in either of their offices, a desk separating them rather than a few feet of bedroom carpet. “Someone saw it at six. Someone else around eight. No one saw it between those two times.”
“No one saw him leave.”
“But they didn’t see him there, either.”
Right. Grabbing his phone, Jayden checked his location app. Called up Bill’s profile. It said he was at work.
At eight on a Sunday morning? Was it possible Bill was planting his phone on purpose? Outmaneuvering him? Manipulating him?
Excusing himself, saying he had to make a call, he pulled on his shorts and went outside, dialing Bill as he went. If the man was in Santa Raquel... If he—
“Bill Heber,” the parolee answered on the second ring. As always. “And yeah, I’m working on Sunday morning,” he said. He would have seen Jayden’s number come up.
“The shop’s closed.”
“Johnson asked if I minded coming in. We got jobs piling up and he knows I don’t have anything better to do. Besides, I’d rather be earning money than sitting in front of the television set.”
“Okay, good.” He’d overreacted. Was letting Emma get to him. Maybe in more ways than one. Pushing away a brief flash of the night he’d just spent—the physical and emotional power he’d allowed the woman to have over him—he focused on his client. “Everything going okay?”
“Since we spoke yesterday, you mean?”
“Yep.”
“I’m a getting a bit nervous, actually,” Bill said. “You being in touch so much. Like you think I might be up to something.”
“Are you?”
“What do you think?” Bill replied.
“It doesn’t matter what I think. Are you?”
“No.” Then, “Of course not.” Another pause and then Bill said, “I thought you were different.”
“How so?”
“I thought you were giving me a straight shot. I trusted you with...like a weakling or something, telling you all that stuff about me. My regrets. You didn’t believe a word of it, did you? To you I’m just an ex-con who can’t help himself from screwing up again.”
“That’s not true.” He was different. “Believe it or not, I’m protecting you, Bill.” Jayden knew when the words came out of his mouth that he’d said too much.
“So they’re looking at me? Someone thinks I already did something? Something’s happened to Suzie, then? Is that what you’re telling me?”
Jayden could almost feel the man’s tension ratchet up along with the change in voice tone.
Damn. He was off his game. Too filled with sex. With Emma.
He’d said he wouldn’t allow it to affect his work. He’d meant what he’d said. To Bill and to himself.
“Suzie’s fine. At home and planning to go to work tomorrow, as far I know,” he said. “Don’t go getting all half-cocked on me and try to see her. I swear to you, she’s fine.”
At the moment. Because she was under police watch.
“Then why all the attention?”
“I just know I’ve been alerted to check in with you. And the more I do so, the more proof I have that you’re innocent of anything that could come up in the future. You can trust me, man.”
Unless the man reoffended. Then Jayden would be his worst enemy.
“I swear to God, I have not raised a hand to Suzie—or anyone—since my release. Nor am I going to do so.”