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I follow, keeping a reasonable, professional distance.

We drive through downtown Hollow Creek.

I stay several cars behind him.

When a truck gets between us, I don't panic.

When I lose sight of him around a curve, I don't speed up.

I know which direction he went. And what he drives.

Unlike Roman, Beck isn't constantly checking his mirrors like someone might be trying to murder him. Which, considering his friendship with Roman, seems optimistic.

Ten minutes later, Beck turns onto a residential street.

My pulse kicks up.

I continue straight, then circle back. His truck is parked in the driveway of a small house.

I slowly drive past.

Beck is walking toward the front door.

I continue another block before pulling over.

My heart pounds. “This could be it.”

Alibi stands with his front paws against the passenger door, looking out the window.

“Don't get excited. We don't know anything yet.”

I turn around in my seat.

Through the rear window, I can just make out the house.

Beck reaches the porch. He knocks, and the door opens.

Roman appears.

I gasp. “Holy shit.”

Alibi barks.

I duck.

I don't know why. We're a block away. Roman isn't looking at me.

Still, I crouch behind the steering wheel.

“I found him,” I whisper to Alibi.

He tries to climb onto my lap.

“I fucking found him.”

His paw lands on my boob.

“Ow. Personal space.”