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I roll my eyes. “I wanted a coffee and a cinnamon roll.”
“Sure,” he scoffs. “I’ve never seen you eat a fucking cinnamon roll in all the years I’ve known you but whatever you say, man.”
“This is not the point.”
He barks out a laugh. “Oh, I think it very much is the point. What were you doing at the bakery, Roost?”
“Keeping an eye on her like Calvin asked.”
“Mmhmm,” he hums, a sick glee in his voice. “And let me ask you this… were you watching from outside the bakery or did you go in and talk to her?”
I shift in my seat. “What does that fucking matter?”
“Brother,” he chokes out with a laugh. “You are glass - so fucking transparent.”
“Fucker, can you just tell me if he’s been at the bakery before today?”
He’s still laughing and I swear to God, if he was in front of me, I’d smack him.
“No,” he finally answers. “But I can put a tracker on his phone now and let you know if he shows up again. Although, fairly good chance you’ll know before I do.”
I clench my teeth and resist the urge to chuck my phone across the truck. “Shut the fuck up and put the tracker on him.”
“I’ll send the prospect over to stick one on his truck, too, just in case he leaves the phone at home.”
“Any other way to tell if he knows she’s living above the bakery?”
He sighs. “At the moment, no. But I’ll have Smith head over there and put cameras up after I clear it with Calvin.”
“Calvin’s already got cameras. Just ask him for access.”
“Oh, does he, now?” he asks and the clicking resumes, faster than before.
“Dude, are you hacking his cameras right now?”
He laughs. “Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”
“You are such a dick,” I tell him, fighting back a smile. Streak has an issue with boundaries - mostly because he can get into anything or get information on anyone. But I know Calvin would gladly hand over access to the cameras because he trusts us and knows we’re just trying to keep Lennon safe. I put Streak on speaker phone and pull up my text thread with Calvin.
Me:
Just fyi. Streak is hacking your cameras
at the bakery. Sorry. He couldn’t be
stopped.
“I’ve combed through the last few days and no sign of Owen until this morning. He stood outside the bakery and watched her for a couple minutes before he came in. And then he stormed out a few minutes later.” He scoffs. “I assume that was your doing?”
I clench my hand in my lap. “He put his hands on her. Tried to force her into a conversation she said no to.”
“Ah,” he says. “Understood. I’ll keep an eye on the cameras and I’ll keep digging into his past to see if I can find anything else.”
“Thanks, Streak,” I answer, releasing my fist.
“I’m on it, brother. Anything else?”
I nod. “You got anything on Derek?”
