“Yes….” She shrugs as her gaze stays glued to the screen. After backing up to a previous clip, she slows the playback until it’s in slow motion. “All I can think about is all the things thatcould’ve happened to her if you hadn’t gone outside when you did.”
“I know.” I study the partial license plate on the still frame. I can only make out two numbers. They were smart enough to park away from the security lights. “Can you hand me an ink pen and a piece of paper?”
“Sure.” She digs around for the items. When our fingers brush, energy crackles in the air around us. Focus on work.
I clear my throat and lean forward, catching a hint of her perfume. Fuck, dude. Get your head out of your dick.
After I have written down the two visible numbers, I step back, putting distance between us. The need to touch her has my skin itching. “Play the rest of the video.”
We watch in silence as what appears to be a young male gets out of the driver’s side of the car, jogs to the front door, and knocks. While he waits, he glances in all directions while shifting from foot to foot. His movements are jerky and agitated as he turns back to the car.
When no one answers, he wipes his hands across his face. By his movements, he feels young. “Do you know him?”
“If it’s the boy I’m thinking about, I’ve seen him around, but he doesn’t live here. His car is that same size. I believe he hangs out with Chad Whitlock’s stepsister, Mackenzie. But it’s impossible to tell for sure with all the shadows and never getting a full view of his face.” She shrugs. “Or the car.”
“Who does Mackenzie live with?”
“Chad. Her stepfather is in jail.”
It’s impossible not to feel sorry for the girl. She’s been given a shit hand. If I remember correctly, her mother died a few years ago. I had no idea she’d gotten stuck with her loser stepfather and now was under Chad’s thumb. It’s still no excuse, but I understand why she wouldn’t want a baby brought into that mess. If it was her who gave birth.
“Chad Whitlock is an asshole,” Emily says. “He’s been in and out of jail since he quit school. Following in his equally assholish father’s footsteps.”
The boy jogs to the car, opens the passenger side door, and lifts the box off the passenger seat. At 6:00 a.m., it was forty degrees and dark. Fuck. Even though I know how it ends, it still makes me nauseous to watch it unfold. This kid abandoned a baby on a doorstep, where anything could’ve happened to her.
She glances at me over her shoulder. “Mackenzie doesn’t stand a chance with those losers in her corner, holding her back.”
The kid hugs the side of the building with only the edge of the box visible on the screen. When he gets to an open space, his nose is detectable for a second before he yanks the hood of his black jacket over his head, blocking his features.
Then, there’s no more movement as if he vaporized into thin air.
For several minutes, nothing happens until the car speeds out of the driveway. How did he know where all the camera angles were? Without a close-up view of his face and only a partial plate number, I can’t accuse him of abandoning the baby.
“I’m going to check on Mackenzie. You’re sure she lives with Chad?”
“Yes.” She saves the video and pulls up her email. “What’s your email address?”
Once I give it to her, I lean down and kiss the top of her head. “Thanks. Be on standby. If she’s had a baby, she needs to be looked over.” I rotate my shoulders to dislodge the tension growing there. “I don’t want to cause trouble for her, but we need to know.”
“Be careful. You know what a loose cannon Chad is.”
“I know.” I slide my thumb along her shoulder as my need to continue touching her seems to have overtaken my common sense.
Dale strides through the doorway. “That looks like the car of the kid I’ve seen hanging around Mackenzie Whitlock.”
Emily launches upward, dislodging my hand and hitting the chair seat with the back of her legs. It slides across the floor and bounces off the wall. “Shit. You scared the crap out of me.”
“Hmph.” His eyes rove over us as if he’s cataloging our positions.
Emily is the first to gather her composure. She wipes her palms on her pants as she redirects her attention to me. “Call if you need anything.”
“Of course.” The urge to haul her to me and kiss her again is so strong that I spin on my heel and leave before I can’t fight the pull any longer.
Chapter Thirty-One
Jake
As I drive past Joe Parkhurst’s house, I lift a finger in an obligatory wave while trying to come up with a plausible reason to stop at the Whitlock place without alerting the entire neighborhood about her business.
