Page 98 of Smitten with the Single Dad

The rumor was that Shelley had gotten big into online poker and other kinds of gambling during COVID-19, and she was struggling to give it up now that the world was slightly less on fire.

Unlike a few of the other houses they’d visited, Shelley just had a regular sized garage. It was detached from her A-frame house, but big enough for two vehicles. And it had windows.

The cat around Wyatt’s ankles meowed again.

“Shh, kitty,” he whispered. “Shoo.”

“Window is too high,” Clint said. “Here.” He dropped to all fours and Wyatt carefully stepped onto his brother’s back to peer through the high window into the dark garbage. Bennett handed him the flashlight.

“Just Shelley’s little Mini Cooper. Right?” Bennett asked, his tone bored.

Wyatt shot his brother a look. “No. Look for yourself, smartass.” He stepped down off Clint’s back and Bennett took his place, shining the light into the garage.

Bennett gasped. “Is that—”

“The car that tried to run Vica off the road?” Wyatt asked. “It sure as fuck is.”

“The Mini Cooper?” Clint asked, still on the ground.

“No. The gray sedan. Same license number as Vica memorized too.”

Bennett hopped down and gripped Wyatt by the shoulder. “There has to be an explanation for this.”

“Yeah, there is. Shelley’s up to her fucking eyeballs in debt, and Wyndham Croft made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.” Rage lanced burning hot through Wyatt’s body. His fingers bunched into tight fists at his sides, and it was all hecould do not to run to Shelley’s stupid, little A-frame house, kick in the door, and shake the woman in her bed. Was she also the one who ran them off the road? Who opened fire on Vica, him, and his children?

“Take some pictures,” Clint said calmly. “Then in the morning, we’ll figure out how to handle this. But there’s nothing we can do about it tonight. Nothing legal anyway. As it is, we’re fucking trespassing, and a judge is going to ask how we knew the car was here. They need probable cause for a search warrant.”

“Would you just shut up with all your cop show shit,” Wyatt snapped.

Bennett still had him by the shoulder. Like he knew that if he let go, Wyatt was going to book it for Shelley’s front door. “I know you’re angry. But you can’t do anything stupid. Think of the boys. You’re the only parent they have. We’re not going to let this go. Now that we know where the car is, we’re one step closer to freeing Vica of all of this.”

Like a bull preparing to impale the stupid matador, Wyatt’s nostrils flared with each forced exhale. “My kids were in the truck when we were hit and shot at,” he gritted out.

“Yeah, and so was my brother,” Bennett said solemnly, which was exactly what Wyatt needed to snap him out of his rage fugue. He blinked at Bennett.

The sincerity in Bennett’s eyes, and Clint’s, when Wyatt glanced down at them, hit Wyatt hard in the solar plexus.

“We’ll get her—or whoever it was. I promise,” Clint said. “Now, get back up here and take some pictures. I’m pretty sure we’re near an ant’s nest because like twenty have crawled across my hands.”

“Right. Sorry.” Wyatt climbed back up and with the small flashlight in his mouth, shining into the garage, he snapped photos of the gray sedan. The front end didn’t seem like it’d recently been in an accident though. However, Shelley’s Mini Cooper was also absent. And going at a fast enough speed, it could have shoved the truck off the road.

“You done yet?” Clint asked.

Wyatt climbed off his brother’s back, then helped Clint to his feet. “Thankyou.”

“Let’s get home before we get caught.” Bennett slapped Wyatt on the back and made sure he kept a hand on him until they were off Shelley’s property.

“Text those photos to me, please,” Clint said once they were driving back toward the property.

“Me too,” Bennett added. “The more of us that have them the better. Just in case your phone dies, breaks, or gets lost, or something.”

Wyatt did it straight away. He should feel relieved that they actually found the car, but he wasn’t. Because it didn’t make sense.

Yes, Shelley Diamond had a gambling problem, but she was also a sweet woman who lived a very quiet and peaceful life. Bennett was right, she wouldn’t hurt a fly. Something wasn’t adding up.

They reached the security gate, and Clint unrolled his window to punch in the code and drive through. The first glimmers of morning were starting to show, but it was still early enough that nobody in Wyatt’s house should be awake.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Wyatt said after they all climbed out of Clint’s truck.

---