The man finally steps into the light, though his all black clothing and black beanie cover most of his features, and I can’t see his face. Which means, following him may have led to a dead end unless he turns his face or I can figure out where he’s going.
The man proceeds across the parking lot, his black boots silent against the pavement. The crickets and frogs drown out all sound.
I wait until he moves out of sight on the other side of the building before quickly skirting the parking lot, staying within the trees. Moving at a faster pace so I don’t lose him, I round the building to the other side. The man gets into a black, unmarked car and drives away.
Cursing, I pull out my phone and snap a few blurry photos of the back of the car on the off chance there’s some distinguishable markings that Gray can track down for me.
I sigh, finally slumping my tense shoulders, and walk over to the warehouse door. There’s a padlock over the handles, and no windows in sight.
Another dead end.
Giving up, I pull my phone out, dialing Gray, and make my way back through the trees, wondering if I’ve been away too long that Owen might become suspicious. Or worse, worried, and come try to find me.
“Nova?” Gray asks, picking up after two rings.
“Could you do me a favor for my new assignment? Dec mentioned if I needed tech help, I could ask you.”
“Sure,” he answers almost cheerily, and my chest constricts at the sound, knowing I’m the reason he likely hasn’t been assigned anything interesting since our last mission went to hell.
“I’m sending you some photos of an unmarked car. Can you enhance the photos and see if there’s any way to ID it?”
“Absolutely!” he chirps.
“And there’s a warehouse north of Ed’s, the seafood restaurant. It appears abandoned, but could you check it out and find out who owns it, and see if we can get a look inside?”
Gray doesn’t ask questions, and I can hear him already clicking away at his computer.
“I’ll have the info to you by the end of the night,” he murmurs, finally remembering I’m still on the line, too lost in what he does best.
I chuckle. “Thanks, Gray. I owe you.”
I sense him waving off my statement. “No problem.”
Hanging up the phone, I hurry the rest of the way back to the restaurant.
Owen, Jax, and Evan haven’t texted or called, and there’s no one outside shouting my name, so I take a deep breath and step back into the restaurant, pretending I didn’t follow a man who was clearly sent to get information from either me or someone inside.
Or both.
As I lock eyes with Owen, the man whom I was sent to lock up, a shiver runs down my spine.
Something isn’t right with this case.
The three men are singing loudly, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders. Owen is in the middle. I want to laugh and smile and join them, but my heart is beating a million miles an hour.
Owen stops singing all of a sudden, and his face drops. “What’s wrong?” he asks, peeling himself away from Jax and Evan, who keep singing. Oblivious, likely due to the empty glasses sitting next to them.
Shaking my head, I try to plaster a smile on my face even though my stomach feels sour. “Nothing. Had too much to drink.”
“You want me to take you home?” He searches my face, standing way too close.
I nod because I don’t want to pretend.
He spins and grabs his coat. No questions. No complaints. When he turns back, he hands me my jacket.
Jax and Evan notice and stop their singing.
“You aren’t leaving so soon?” Evan asks, sounding disappointed.
