In the scrubby trees, a murder of crows squawked impatiently at the continued interruption to their day.
“Please,” he said flatly.
Wren snorted. “Well, that wasn’t worth it.” He slapped Ledger’s hand away casually and stepped backward. “I’d work on it because I’m not going to put out for that amount of effort.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You will.” Wren scratched his neck absently, his fingers sliding down under the frayed collar of his T-shirt. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he looked at the road. “I’ll need to talk to Earl. Can I trust you not to do anything stupid?”
Ledger considered his options about where to start the search and shrugged. “Define stupid.”
“Try to run.” Wren ticked them off on his fingers as he tallied them up. “Try and pull a fast one on Earl. Take me to McDonald’s on our date. Anything along those lines.”
Another truck rolled by. Ledger waited until it was gone.
“You want to know something?”
“Not really,” Wren said.
OK. That was hard to top. Ledger shook his head.
“I’m not going to do anything stupid,” he said.
Wren nodded and waved his hand for Ledger to get back into the cab. He pulled himself into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Meet me back here at midnight,” he said. “If I can help, it’ll be then.”
He glanced over his shoulder, one arm casually slung out of the open window, and then pulled a tight U-turn out onto the road.
“So while I save the day,” Wren said, “what will you do?”
Ledger leaned forward and flicked the radio back on. It was still country, but that was better than Christian rock. Two men harmonized mournfully at each other about a car. It probably represented something that Ledger was missing, since he hadn’t caught the start.
“I’m going to—”
Before he could finish, Wren snapped his hand out and grabbed something from the air, his knuckles white as he clenched his fist around it. He opened his fingers to show a pea-sized bit of something yellow-gray.
“Look at that.” Wren lifted his hand to his mouth and licked the bit of gravel, spitting it back out again a second later. “Got a bit of your dad already. That’s a good omen.”
That might be a stretch.
Ledger slid down in his seat. “At some point, the weird stuff you put in your mouth is going to stop me wanting to kiss you.”
Wren laughed at him.
CHAPTER7
THE SONG ABOUTthe car was stuck in Ledger’s head.
If he’d known that was going to happen, he would have paid more attention to the lyrics. As it was, he had about two-thirds of one chorus… on repeat. He tried to ignore it as he drove along Main Street with Stella Bluetooth’d to the car radio.
“So these areyourdad’s debts,” Stella grumbled. “Why is it my problem?”
“Because I pay you to care aboutmyproblems,” Ledger said. “Do you have the email?”
“Give me a minute.”
Ledger rolled his eyes and switched his attention back to the road. He wasn’t going to hold his breath; he’d seen Stella’s email account. It was 90 percent corporate newsletters shilling makeup, clothes, and over-70s cruises to Alaska.
Ahead of him, a blue Jeep pulled out of a spot on the corner and drove away. Ledger unconsciously pressed his foot on the gas—even though there was no one between him and the spot—and tucked his rental into the space.
