“Right.” Peyton resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “If Lilia was in trouble, is there someplace you can think of that she’d hide out? Or someone she’d turn to for help?”
“Other than you? Nope.”
A creak came from the rear of the trailer. Peyton was on her feet in an instant. “Who else is here?”
“Bobby. My man.” Sandra glared from underneath thin eyebrows. “What’s the matter with you? You think I’m too old to have someone who cares about me.”
The bedroom door swung open and an overweight, balding man filled the hallway. He wore sweatpants with frayed holes and a stained white tank top. Tattoos covered much of his visible skin. Several were associated with known prison gangs. His gaze widened with surprise as Dawson stepped out of the kitchen.
“Hey, man.” Dawson’s posture was casual, but he strategically placed himself between Bobby and Peyton in a protective stance.
“What’s going on?” Bobby demanded. His expression reddened as his anger sparked. “What ya’ doing talking with cops, Sandra?”
“Aw, Bobby, don’t get riled up. This is my niece. She’s here about Lilia. She thinks my daughter might be in some kind oftrouble.” Sandra’s tone was sugary sweet. “You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about, hon.”
Bobby didn’t look convinced. “I’m sure Lilia is fine.” He puffed out his chest, stepping forward aggressively. “Visiting time is over. Get out.”
There wasn’t any love lost between Peyton and her aunt, but even still, she couldn’t leave the older woman with Bobby in good conscience. The man looked ready to punch someone, and he’d literally just woken up. His hair was mussed and there was a crease on his cheek from the pillow.
She eased closer to Sandra. Keeping her voice low, she whispered, “This is your house, Aunt Sandra. If you’re afraid, I can help you.”
Sandra met her gaze. Some of that hardened shell she wore cracked, and a weariness swam in her dark eyes. “Bobby takes care of me.”
That was code for he kept her in alcohol and cigarettes. Maybe drugs too. Peyton touched her aunt’s arm. It was nothing but bone. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
“Aw, Princess Peyton. What do you know of life?” Her gaze hardened, the weariness disappearing behind a lifetime of regret and anger. Her voice rose. “You heard Bobby. Get out.”
Knowing she wouldn’t make any progress, Peyton reluctantly headed for the door, Dawson hot on her heels. The slap of fresh air was a relief after the sourness of the trailer. She practically ran down the sagging porch steps to the SUV.
Moments later, icy air washed into the cab. Peyton had opened the window, unable to clear the stench from her nose. She needed a shower. Pine trees whipped by.
“We should figure out Bobby’s last name and run him through the system.” Peyton had to shout to be heard over the wind. “I’ll eat my badge if he doesn’t have a criminal record.”
Dawson nodded. “You think he’s involved in Lilia’s disappearance?”
“Everyone is a suspect until we know otherwise, and he seemed pretty ticked off to find us there.” The air had turned strands of her hair into whips, so she gave in and pulled up the window halfway. “Not to mention that he acted like he knew Lilia. But if Aunt Sandra is telling the truth, she hasn’t seen her in almost a year. Her relationships never last long. Seems weird to me.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t strike me as a nice guy.” Dawson slanted a glance her way. “You never mentioned that you knew Cade Maddox?”
“I’d forgotten about him until Aunt Sandra mentioned his name. He came for dinner once at Nana Grace’s. You weren’t there for some reason, although I can’t remember why. It was a disaster. He showed up high and got drunk as well. Lilia and I had a big fight about it.” She bit her lip. It was possible she’d never mentioned the incident to Dawson on purpose. Too embarrassing. “Just another one of our arguments. By that point, I’d grown tired of talking about them.”
“I never got tired of hearing about them.”
“Why not? I sure did.”
“Because it mattered to you.” Something shifted in his expression. A flicker of vulnerability, there and gone. As if he'd said more than he intended. His jaw tightened and his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead.
“You’re a good man, Dawson.” Peyton studied his profile as Dawson entered the freeway. The strong nose and masculine mouth. She’d missed him. A question had been nagging at her since she left the hospital, and she couldn't hold it back any longer. “Can I ask you something personal?”
He arched a brow in her direction. “Depends on the question.”
She swallowed hard. “Are you…seeing anyone?”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “No.”
Relief flickered through her, unwelcome and undeniable. She tamped it down. “I’m surprised.” Peyton kept her tone light and teasing. “There can’t be that many eligible bachelors in Knoxville.”
His mouth quirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “You’d be surprised.” Dawson was quiet for a long moment. “What about you?”
