Bishop laughed out loud. “Fair enough. Though I’m pretty fond of your nights off.”
I squirmed in my seat at the memory, but then a familiar sign on the side of the road pulled my focus back where it belonged. “That’s it. Pull in across the street. Behind that auto body shop.” It had been closed for hours, and a tiny family-owned place like that had no exterior lights and no cameras.
While he parked, I texted Tucker with our updated location. I had yet to speak to Austin since I’d found out he knew about Bishop and me, and I wasn’t entirely sure how that was going to go. Fortunately, we had more pressing matters to deal with.
“Which unit is his?” I asked, staring at what I could see of the trailer park around the back of the body shop.
“It’s one of the big lots in the back. A quarter acre or more. He’s got a double-wide, bricked up to the windows, with a custom front porch and back deck. Pretty much the best-case scenario for a trailer park.”
“What’s behind it?” We were outside of town, and I couldn’t see any lights, other than TVs glowing through the windows of a couple of trailers in the front of the park.
“Nothing. Woods. Hey, look. You can actually see Senet’s place from here, if you squint. Through the trees. Back there on the left.”
Thanks to the cloudless night, the bright three-quarter moon, and the fact that the trees were winter-bare, he was right. “There’s a light on. Dim. Like it’s behind a curtain.”
“That wasn’t on earlier. He’s home.” Bishop reached for the door handle, but I grabbed his arm.
“Watch and wait. That’s all we’re doing until they—”
“The light went out.” His whole body tensed, his eyes narrowed as he stared through the windshield. “That’s—” He leaned forward. “I think the front door is opening. We have to move. Now.”
“No, we wait. If he drives off, we’ll just follow him and text Tucker with an update.”
Reluctantly, Bishop leaned back in his seat. “I’d rather be giving the orders.”
I patted his shoulder. “You’ll get there,” I teased, throwing his own words back at him. “I have faith.”
“Cute.” He turned back to the windshield. “He’s not getting in the car. He’s… I think he’s heading into the woods. On two feet.” Bishop turned to me, the desperation in his gaze a wordless plea. “If we don’t go after him, we could lose him.”
“You said yourself that he’ll come back to his home.”
“I said he’d probably come back if he doesn’t know we’re onto him. What if he does know? Or what if he finds out while he’s out there? He might never come back. We could lose him, Charley.”
I exhaled. Each second ticking by felt like sand slipping through my fingers. Like time running out. “Promise you won’t kill him.Nounnecessary force. Weneedto hear everything he has to say.” We didn’t even know for certain that he was guilty.
“I swear on my life. On Yvette’s grave.”
“Fine. But youfollow my lead.” I opened my door and climbed out, then closed it as softly as possible, while Bishop did the same. Then I jogged across the street and into the woods, with him at my heels.
We couldn’t move at top speed and maintain total silence, which wouldn’t have been an issue if we were following a human. But Cam’s hearing was just as good as ours.
“You go right?” Bishop whispered when we reached the trailer, indicating that he’d take the opposite direction. But I was loathe to lose sight of him. I didn’t think he’d intentionally disobey orders, but I couldn’t be sure what kind of impulse control limitations he might have when he came face-to-face with his wife’s suspected killer.
“We stay together,” I insisted as softly as I could. He scowled—that would cut our chances of finding him virtually in half—but he didn’t argue.
I let him veer about ten feet away, because I could cross that distance in a hurry if I needed to, and we moved as quickly and quietly through the woods as we could, alert for any sound that didn’t belong in nature. Namely, the snap of a twig breaking beneath someone’s foot.
For several minutes, we heard nothing, and I was convinced we’d lost Cam. That we’d have to rely on the hope that he really didn’t know we were looking for him. But then—
“There,” Bishop said, so softly I practically felt the words. He turned to the east, and I wished I had cat ears that could swivel to listen in a specific direction. But then I heard it: not the snap of a twig, but the rustle of a winter-bare branch as someone brushed it out of the way.
I motioned for him togoand we took off, curving away from each other to approach the sound from different angles. To surround Cam, as best we could with just the two of us.
In seconds, I saw the silhouette, backlit in what moonlight there was, only…there were two of them. Cam was not alone. He and his partner were moving quietly through the woods, taking care with every step, as if they knew we were here. Looking for them.
I couldn’t see Bishop as I snuck closer, until suddenly a dark form burst into sight from the opposite side of the silhouettes. When I saw him coming, I lurched into action, tackling the nearest form.
I realized my mistake as soon as I got close enough to smell him, which was far too late to stop myself from driving Austin to the ground.
