Page 17 of Crossroads of Innocence
Her words sent a shiver down Jude’s spine and made her realize she wasn’t the only one with a past. Hopefully Mia was right, and one day she could look back and say the darkest parts of her life were behind her. But a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach told her she had a long way to go before that could ever happen.
* * *
Wade’s heartshot to his throat. He staggered forward a bit, not wanting the man who’d called himself Toby to sense his trepidation, but not quite sure how to play things. His gut told him to act like he was unaware of who this guy really was and what he’d done. Admitting even the tiniest bit of knowledge would only dig the hole he was in even deeper. “Well, mornin’. I guess you didn’t see theClosedsign on the door.”
The man shrugged, not an ounce of chagrin on his weathered face. “Maybe you should lock up when you leave. Would keep people from just walking in.”
Regaining his stride, he flipped on the lights and crossed to behind the bar. He didn’t want to get too close to this man—he’d proven how dangerous he was—but Wade kept a hunting rifle hidden beneath the cash register. He’d never had to use it outside taking down game on the mountains, but he’d feel a lot more confident if a weapon was within arm’s reach.
“Small towns like this, I don’t get many people breaking into my place of business.” He reached into his memory for the moment he and Jude had left earlier. Rushing out without locking up wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, but not securing his home after everything that had happened was farfetched.
“Oh, I know small towns. Which is one reason I know you lied to me last night.”
Wade tightened his jaw. “I didn’t lie.” Keeping an eye on the man, Wade busied himself wiping down the bar and gauging the diminished supplies he’d have to refill before he opened.
“You’re telling me you don’t know Jude Metcalf?”
“That’s not what I said.” He threw the white dishcloth over his shoulder, inching closer to the gun. “You showed me a picture and asked if I knew who it was. The woman in the photo didn’t look familiar. So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is Iknowyou and Jude have a long history.”
He stilled and looked the man dead in the eyes. “Then you’d know I haven’t seen or talked to Jude in twelve years. That’s a long time. A lot changes. So if you’re telling me Jude is the woman in the picture, I can tell you she didn’t look like the girl I once knew.”
A pinch of sadness squeezed his chest. Jude wasn’t just different in appearance. He hadn’t heard her infectious laugh or seen her easy smile since she’d crashed back into his life the night before. A lot of that could be the fear that brought her here, but something deeper lingered in her eyes. Something kept her closed-up and distant. A part of him wanted to smash down the walls she’d never had before and get to the heart of the problem. The other part screamed to leave things alone. That it wouldn’t be worth the pain of losing her again.
“Listen. You seem like a nice guy. I don’t want any trouble. I’m just trying to do my job, and part of that job is finding Jude Metcalf and holding her accountable for her actions.” He hooked his jacket to the side, exposing the handle of a black handgun. “I’d hate to think you’re giving me the runaround.”
With his pulse pounding, Wade pressed his fists against the bar and leaned forward. “Are you threatening me, Detective?”
The man smiled. “Nah. Just making myself clear.”
The desire to lunge across the bar and strangle this asshole had him grinding his knuckles harder into the smooth wood. “Noted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my staff will be here any moment and I have a million things to do before we open.”
Wade held his ground, refusing to budge as he kept his smile in place and gaze fixed casually upon the stranger in front of him.
“You still have that card I gave you?” the man asked, standing.
“Sure do.”
He dipped his chin. “Good. I’ll be around.”
The statement came out as more of a threat. Wade stayed glued to his spot until he was alone, then rushed to lock the door. A whole lot of people would be upset, but no way he could open today. Not with adrenaline rushing through his veins and a psychopath on the prowl.
With a trembling hand, he snatched his phone from his pocket and called Cruz.
“Hey—”
“The guy was at my bar,” Wade said, cutting off Cruz. “Let me rephrase that. He broke into my bar. Was here when I got back from dropping off Jude. His vehicle wasn’t in the parking lot. A blue sedan was. I can try to pull up the plates on the security footage.”
He glanced through the window, but the man had already disappeared. Shit. He should have kept a better eye on him. Then he could have at least told Cruz which direction he’d fled. Switching gears, he headed for the back room where a computer was set up.
“This guy is more dangerous than we imagined,” Cruz said. “Lincoln got some details. His name is Benji Blitz. Has strong ties to a well-known crime family from Detroit. The Strombiskis. The family’s been pushing their business into Northern Michigan.”
“Shit.” Wade shoved a hand through his hair then stroked a few keys to bring up the video feed.
“It gets worse,” Cruz said. “The men in the photo—one of them is a part of the family. The top boss’s nephew. Jude has photo evidence of the nephew with a man right before he was murdered. This couldn’t just put one man behind bars. It could take down an entire crime family.”
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