Cal nodded. “Yeah. Looks close, but I can’t swear to it.”
“I thought as much,” Isla said. “Plates are bogus. I’ll keep digging and see if I can find it again. I’ll call back if I get anything solid.”
“Do that,” Cal told her, then ended the call. He set the phone face down on the desk, frustration simmering low in his gut. So close again, and still nothing they could hold on to.
Raised voices carried down the hall, sharp and heated. Cal pushed back from the desk, Alena right beside him as Raines rose from his chair. They stepped out into the front of the station just in time to see Arneson and Kara storm through the doors, their words already cutting into each other.
“You kept him from me,” Kara snapped, her eyes flashing. “I know you did. You’ve hidden Dexter from me.”
Arneson’s face was pale under the fresh bandage wrapping his head. His wrists were dark with bruises, the marks standing out against his skin. He looked as battered as Cal remembered, but the fire in his glare hadn’t dimmed.
The second Kara spotted Cal and Alena, she veered straight for them and the sheriff. “You need to arrest him,” she pleaded, pointing at Arneson. “He’s the reason Dexter hasn’t come back to me.”
Raines kept his voice even. “Do you have any evidence of that?”
“Not yet,” Kara huffed, her chin jerking up. “But I will.”
Arneson let out a low snarl. “You’re delusional. Dexter broke things off with you, and you can’t accept it. So you blame me.”
Her face flushed, but she didn’t back down. “Yes, he ended it. But I know he’ll come to his senses. He loves me.”
Arneson shook his head, his voice full of disgust. “He doesn’t love you. He used you. That’s all he’s ever done.”
“You’re lying,” Kara shot back, her voice sharp enough to cut. “You’ve always stood in the way. If Dexter’s not here, it’s because of you.”
The two of them snapped at each other again, their words bitter, the animosity filling the room until it felt like the walls were closing in.
Arneson tore his glare away from Kara and fixed it on Raines. “I heard about the shooting at the strip mall. What happened? I heard someone was killed.”
Kara’s face drained of color, horror flickering across her features. “Oh, God. Was it Dexter?”
“No,” Raines said firmly. “The man was Bryce Keller.”
Kara gasped, one hand flying to her mouth. “Bryce? I know him. Dexter introduced us.”
Cal’s gaze sharpened. Introduced them, or more than that? His gut twisted with the thought. Kara had motive. She never wanted Melissa in the picture, and Keller fit the kind of muscle someone like her would hire.
He glanced at Raines, and the sheriff’s hard expression told Cal he was thinking the same thing.
“All right,” Raines said, his tone clipped. He pointed at Arneson. “You stay put.” Then he turned to Kara. “You and I are going into one of the interview rooms.”
Kara bristled but lifted her chin, ready to follow, still brimming with self-righteous energy. Arneson muttered something under his breath, but Raines shut him down with a sharp look before leading Kara down the hall.
Cal exchanged a glance with Alena. Too many pieces weren’t fitting, and every new turn seemed to twist the puzzle tighter.
When Raines led Kara out of the room and down the hall, the office felt quieter, though the tension hadn’t gone anywhere. Cal shifted his focus to Arneson, who was pacing just inside the doorway, his bandaged head glistening with sweat.
“How well did Dexter know the strip mall?” Cal asked.
Arneson stopped pacing, his jaw flexing. “He worked those properties. Helped with some of the cleanup and repairs before everything shut down. But I’m telling you, he’s being set up. He escaped because he was afraid for his life. That’s the truth.”
Cal heard it, but there was more than loyalty in Arneson’s tone. Bitterness threaded through, frustration that he couldn’t quite hide.
Alena leaned against the edge of a desk, her gaze steady on him. “You must be tired of always cleaning up his messes.”
Arneson’s shoulders sagged, the fight slipping out of him for a moment. He didn’t deny it. “When our mom died, I swore I’d look out for him. Protect him, no matter what. That’s what I’m doing now.”
Cal watched him closely, noting the strain in his face, the raw edges of guilt mixed with duty. Arneson had lived with Dexter’s shadow a long time, and it showed.
