I couldn’t agree more.
“Don’t tell Liam about this.”
Confused by the demand, I looked over at her for an explanation. “Why?”
Her eyes never left the shop window. I followed her gaze, gasping softly when I noticed Mr. Callahan staring out the window at us. The wicked glint in his eyes sent shivers down my spine, making me regret ever coming to town.
“Trust me. He can never find out about this.”
15
LIAM
“There’s nothing here.”
I heard Jeff’s words, but I wasn’t sure I could make myself believe it. “Check again.”
Sighing, he sat down at the kitchen table across from me. “If there was anything here, we would have found it. How sure are you that Austin cut the brakes?”
Even with the fog from the medication still lingering, I remembered every fucking detail leading up to the accident. “Positive. I’m telling you, the brakes were cut.”
“Then we need to prove it and get that fucker out of our lives.”
That fucker. Austin used to be friends with us a long time ago. But I’d seen the changes in him even before his brother’s accident. That desire to push the limits just a little further. The gleam he got in his eyes when danger was present.
He thrived off destruction, which was becoming clearer by the minute. Not that I could prove any of it.
“What did Wynne say?”
“He said—” His gaze flitted to the window and he stood, pushing his chair back. “Speak of the devil.”
Walking over to the door, Jeff let the good sheriff in. “Mav, tell us you have some good news.”
Maverick removed his hat, running his fingers along the brim as he shook his head. “I got nothing off the car.”
“That’s not possible,” I said, pushing to stand, wincing as my shoulder pulled.
“I got nothing because this morning, Bailey’s car went up in flames where it was being held for investigation.”
Stunned, I stood there trying to take it in. “But…” That didn’t make sense. “The firemen put out the flames.”
“Exactly. Kind of shady, right?”
“Where was the car being held?”
He winced. “That’s the part where this gets tricky.”
Realization dawned on me, and I barked out a laugh. “Gearhead. That fucker Wyatt?—”
“Now, don’t go accusing everyone around town of having a hand in this,” Maverick warned. “You know as well as I do that if Austin wanted to get his hands on that vehicle, he wouldn’t need Wyatt’s help.”
“It was on his fucking property!” I snapped.
“And there’s no proof that Wyatt allowed anyone back where the car was stored. Besides, the garage is open during the day. Cars are coming and going all day long. How hard would it have been for someone to get behind the gate and set fire to the car?”
“So the evidence is gone,” I growled, stalking around the room as I tried to come up with the next step.
“That car is fried,” Maverick sighed. “Without proof, there’s no way to tie Austin to the accident.”
