Page 85 of Claiming Ours
“I didn’t fucking break in,” Jasper yelled, clearly having heard me. “Caroline was my girlfriend. I could be in her cabin, asshole.”
I furrowed my brow. “If she’s missing, and no one knows what happened to her, then why is he using past tense? Why didn’t he say ‘Carolineismy girlfriend’? It’s like he knows she’s not anymore.”
Liam’s features grew stormier as I spoke. “Good fucking point.”
“I know she was looking into the cases and documenting what she found,” Jasper stated loud enough that people across the street slowed to listen to the tea being spilled for all to hear. “We need to find her journal.” He glanced up and down the street as if afraid the wrong person would hear what he said next. Coming closer, he stopped a few feet away, no doubt thinking Liam would attack his scrawny ass otherwise. “I told the sheriff this, too, but do you know why she was so obsessed with the missing women’s cases?”
“Because she was always out on the trail leading rock-climbing excursions,” Liam said, like the guy was an idiot.
“She thinks they are linked to what happened to her mom.”
I shot a confused look at Liam, who didn’t notice, too busy glaring at Jasper.
“Nothing unusual happened to her mom. She passed just a few years ago?—”
“That was her stepmom, you idiot.”
“Careful,” I murmured to Jasper, noticing Liam shift, his muscles bunched ready to strike.
“Her birth mom went missing from Anchor Bay when Caroline was younger.” Jasper swallowed nervously and looked over his shoulder again as if paranoid someone would jump him.
“Are you serious?” I couldn’t stop the words from leaving my mouth, too shocked to even try.
Jasper nodded and stepped closer to the truck. “The reports said she left on her own. Apparently, her mom and dad were having issues. But Caroline told me she never believed it, that she knew her mom wouldn’t have left her.”
Only the roar of passing cars and the slap of waves against the nearby docks filled the tense silence that settled between the three of us.
“You told the sheriff all this when he interviewed you?” Liam asked, his stance now more contemplative than attack-first mode.
“He said he’d fill in that LA detective Brandon brought in to help.”
Confused as hell, I turned my focus to Liam, finding his gray eyes already locked on me. A lot was said silently between us, mostly“What the fuck is going on?”Grabbing a cigarette from the pack in my pocket, I lit the end, the building tension and information overload too much to handle without one.
As I inhaled, an itching sensation at the back of my neck had me spinning around, scanning the area for whoever caused the feeling. A few people gawked from outside Dave’s, clearlyhaving come out to witness the drama unfolding, similar to other gawkers who lined the street.
“What’s wrong?” Liam questioned.
I took another hit, keeping my full attention on our surroundings. “It feels like we’re being watched.” Running the edge of my thumb along my lower lip, I remembered that day when even Elvis was out of sorts while we stalked Baylee. “And I don’t think it’s the first time I’ve sensed it, or Elvis when he was with me in town once.”
Before I could explain, the door to Sips swung open and an angry bear of a man stepped out, hands on his wide hips in obvious annoyance.
“What the hell are you doing?” the man snapped, his anger aimed directly at Jasper. “Get back to work. I didn’t give you a second chance here for you to hang out with your friends.”
We all snorted in unison at that classification.
Jasper pinned Liam with a hard stare, as if trying to silently communicate something he didn’t feel comfortable saying out loud now that his boss was standing close. “Just think about what I said. She thought it was connected, and I’m starting to wonder if she was right.” With that foreshadowing bomb, he turned and headed back toward the coffee shop, shimmying past the angry man and entering the café.
“What’s up your ass today, Paul?” Liam grumbled loud enough for the man to hear. “We were just talking.”
“Then do it when he’s not working.” With that, he turned and stormed back into the store.
I released a loud exhale, flicking the ash off the end of the almost spent cigarette. “Damn, did you win Mr. Congeniality in the Anchor Bay pageant? Because you clearly have a lot of friends around here.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up and get in the truck.” He hitched his chin at the cigarette between my lips. “Without that shit.”
“Glad to see this little chat put you in a better mood,” I muttered under my breath after he’d slammed the driver’s door. Stamping out the cherry on the asphalt, I tucked the trash into my pocket and reached for the door, paranoid gaze sliding along the brightly colored buildings.
A shiver that had nothing to do with the sudden burst of chilly wind coming off the water ran down my spine. What the actual hell was going on here?
