Cal tightened his grip on Alena’s hand, not sure if he was steadying her or himself.
They shared a glance before answering together, voices low. “No, David,” Alena said gently. “There isn’t a baby.”
Cal added, “But we’re okay.”
David considered them for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay.” Just like that, he let it go and shifted, as he often did, to the next thought. “Somebody fired shots. What happened?”
Cal crouched a little, lowering his voice. “There was some trouble, but the police have it under control. We just need you to stay inside for a while.”
David’s eyes widened, but he nodded quickly. “I can do that.” He glanced at the private room the nurse had opened, his smile returning. “I think I’ll play one of my games. I’ve got the controller that works without this hand.” He lifted his left arm, limp at his side, then shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I can still win.”
Some of the tension drained from Cal’s chest. David might not remember everything, but he understood enough. For now, that was all Cal needed.
A soft knock came at the door before one of the nurses stepped inside. “Lunch will be here soon,” she said with a polite smile. “Will you both be staying?”
Alena shook her head. “We can’t. We’ve got to go.”
Cal leaned closer to David. “We’ll be back soon.”
David was already absorbed in his game, his good hand quick on the modified controller. “Okay,” he said, eyes fixed on the screen. “Win for me, Cal.”
It was something David said often, and Cal forced a smile. “Always.” He touched David’s shoulder, then followed Alena out.
The door shut softly behind them, and Alena paused in the hallway. She braced a hand on the wall, her breath uneven.“I’ll never forgive Dexter for what he did to my brother,” she muttered.
Cal’s chest tightened. “Neither will I,” he said. But he knew it wasn’t just David’s injuries haunting her. There was another wound, deeper and quieter, the loss of the baby they would never have. Dexter had stolen that too. He had robbed them of more than either of them could ever get back.
Cal and Alena walked out through the front doors, the air outside bright and sharp against the tension coiled in his chest. They crossed to the SUV without a word, each of them still carrying the weight of the visit.
He had barely closed his door when his phone lit up. Isla’s name filled the screen. Cal answered and put her on speaker.
“I’ve got nothing on the call from Melissa,” Isla said, her voice tight with frustration. “No trace, no digital breadcrumbs. Whoever set that up knew what they were doing. But I’ve been pulling together camera feeds, piecing what I can from traffic cams and private security systems. I found the car Dexter stole during his escape.”
Alena leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Where?”
“Outside Kerrville,” Isla replied. “I tracked him through a patchwork of dash cams. He ditched the car off a county road. From there, he’s on foot or he got another vehicle. I’m still digging.”
Cal gripped the wheel, his pulse quickening. “That’s more than we had. Good work. FYI, he’s likely in his brother’s truck so you can check for that, too.”
“All right, thanks. Will do.” There was a pause on the line, then Isla’s tone shifted. “I found something else.” She hesitated, and the faint sound of keys clicking came through. “I’m sending it to you now.”
Cal glanced at Alena. The look in her eyes mirrored his own. Whatever Isla had uncovered, it didn’t sound good.
The feed loaded on Cal’s phone, the screen flickering before settling on a grainy image. He tilted it so Alena could see, both of them leaning close. A man in a hoodie walked through the frame, shoulders hunched, face hidden.
The view shifted as the figure passed another trail cam. This time, the image sharpened enough to see his face. Dexter.
Cal’s gut clenched. There was no Melissa beside him.
Dexter stopped directly beneath the lens. He pulled back a long hanging branch, revealing the sign that marked Alena’s neighborhood. Then, with deliberate slowness, he smiled, dragged his hand across his throat, and mouthed the words:dead meat.
Alena’s breath caught. “Isla… when was this?”
“About fifteen minutes ago,” Isla said, her voice clipped. “The police are on their way now.”
Cal’s grip tightened on the phone until his knuckles whitened. The game had shifted. Dexter wasn’t just running. He was coming for them.
Chapter Five
