Page 86 of Under the Radar

“We don’t know that,” I assured her.

“But how? Why?” she said, then covered her mouth. “No.”

I sighed. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“But it’s what you think. That Dan did this. That he is responsible. How would he even know we were here?”

I shrugged. “He could have seen us. Overheard you talking at work. Been here himself. Or followed us. I have no idea. We don’t know for sure if it was on purpose or just a freak accident.”

I looked at the truck.

“But I’m going to find out.”

* * *

Maxx and Stefano were already bent over the truck when I got there on Sunday morning. I left an exhausted Hannah asleep in our bed. She’d had nightmares all night, even with me holding her. At one point, she’d confessed she was afraid I was going to leave her because of what Dan was doing, and that was playing on her psyche.

“I’m not worth it,” she sobbed. “If he did that, if he keeps doing things, you’ll get tired of it.”

I held her close, murmuring comforting words into her ear. “No, Cinnamon. He is not going to win. I will never let you go.”

She’d finally fallen asleep, and I’d slipped out of bed, leaving her a note, and headed to the garage.

In the light, the damage was even more than I had thought the night before. The windshield was a given, but the hood was dented and damaged to the point I knew I would have to replace it. Luckily, nothing mechanical was impaired.

I hunched down, looking at the heavy limb we’d brought back to the garage. I ran my fingers over the edges. “I don’t see saw marks.”

“No,” Stefano agreed, tracing his finger along the torn limb. “It has a split here and here.” He ran his hand over the trunk. “These depressions bother me.”

Another truck pulled up, and Dom swung out of the driver’s seat, frowning. He joined us, rubbing his chin. “Wow.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Hannah called her mom. I just dropped her off at your place. I came to see what I could do to help.”

“Were you there last night?”

“Yeah, we were.” He looked at me. “So was your friend.”

“You saw Dan?”

He nodded. “Briefly.”

“Fucker,” I cursed.

Dom studied the branch, looked at the hood, and joined Maxx, who was checking out the tires. They stood. “Those tires were tampered with.”

“So was the branch,” Dom stated.

“How can you be sure?”

“I worked landscaping in my teens. Sometimes if a branch was broken enough, it simply needed encouragement to give way. I used to hang on to the limb above it and bounce on the broken one below until it snapped. When it gave way, I was safe, but the branch was on the ground. I’d climb down.” He shrugged with a grin. “Funner than using a saw.”

“And no noise for people to notice last night.”

“The tires were purposely cut. Probably a drill, used fast and sloppy to make it look like it blew. But these holes are deliberate.”

“And I have zero proof.”