Page 65 of More Than Nothing
An unexpected shadow flitted across his eyes. It was the first time she’d seen anything approaching vulnerability on his face and it surprised her. Maybe she wasn’t so far off the mark.
“I would steer well clear if I were you.” Caitlyn’s drawl shattered the moment. The redhead had hitched herself up onto one of the stools by the counter. She watched them with her chin on both hands. “It was only recently she was asking me if I thought she should see the doctor with a particularly personal complaint. If you get my drift.”
A look of alarm and distaste flashed across Craig’s face.
Elenie stifled a snort. “Mind your own business, Caitlyn. The rash is a lot better now. It hardly itches at all.”
Craig stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I have to go. Be ready on Thursday. I’ll pick you up at half six.” He pushed through the door of the diner like it had personally offended him.
Elenie leaned a tired shoulder against Caitlyn’s. “Hot chocolate on the house for my savior?” she offered.
“It’s the least you can do,” Caitlyn answered, with a twinkle in her eye.
Chapter 30
Roman
“Good timing.” The corner of Roman’s mouth hitched as they pulled up behind Frank Dax’s truck at the stop sign.
He flipped the roof light on and caught Frank’s glance in his rearview mirror as it flashed. Both vehicles cleared the intersection and pulled over at the side of the road. He took his time exiting the police car, strolling leisurely to the driver’s door of the Dodge. Officer Forsberg followed.
“Mr. Dax.”
“Chief Martinez.” Dax nodded. “Anything I can help you with?”
“May I see your license?”
Frank Dax dug into the pocket of his jeans, took out a dog-eared wallet and flipped it open, handing over his license without another word. Roman passed it to Officer Forsberg, who walked back to the Interceptor to make the checks.
Leaning toward the window, Roman ran his eyes over the interior of the truck. A tangle of jumper cables lay on the passenger seat, next to a bottle of water and a pack of cigarettes. A thick pair of gloves had been tossed on the floor. The rear of the cab was clear,but one end of a baseball bat stuck out from underneath a discarded sweatshirt in the footwell.
Roman raised an eyebrow.
“I like a knockabout with my boys here and there.” Frank followed his gaze. His burly shoulders were relaxed, hands propped casually on the bottom of the steering wheel. “By all accounts, you were quite a player, back in the day. Maybe we’ll end up on the same team sometime.”
“Stranger things have happened.” Roman kept his tone genial, while the non-professional core of his being ached to pull the older man out of the truck through the window. He lifted his eyes from Frank’s tattooed knuckles, tore his mind away from the thought of them connecting with Elenie’s face. Flames of rage licked low in his stomach. He’d never stop coming after Dax for that alone.
He let the silence draw out before he spoke again. “I had a call from law enforcement in Battle Creek. They pulled over a Grand Cherokee early hours of this morning. Brand-new plates.” Roman paused as Officer Forsberg stepped back up to his elbow. He waited for a huge semitruck to rumble by so his words wouldn’t get drowned out. “Brand new, but false. The car turned out to be stolen. They took a couple of young guys into custody and your name was mentioned.” Frank’s expression didn’t change. “Any idea why that might be?”
This was nothing more than a fishing expedition. All his colleagues had been able to say was that one of the little shits, not blessed with the sharpest of brains, had let slip Frank’s first name before zipping up and refusing to give anything further. The other hadn’t said a word. It was nothing to go on, far from conclusive. No hard proof Dax was involved at all. And only the local knowledge of the Battle Creek police had tied the possibility of this particular “Frank’s” involvement to the case. The car had likely been stolen toorder. Roman suspected it could well be another dirty Dax sideline exposed to the half-light.
“My name?” Frank Dax gave a slow blink.
“Yes.”
“I have no idea why that might be, Chief.”
“If we look into it, will we find any connection between you and these guys?”
Dax lifted one beefy shoulder. “I know a lot of people.”
“Any false plates lying around in your garage?”
“Not last time I looked.”
“Maybe I should be the one looking.” Roman took Frank’s license from Officer Forsberg and tapped it against the palm of his hand.
“I tell you what.” Frank’s eyes shifted between Roman and Officer Forsberg as the corner of his lips twisted. “You get a warrant and I’ll give you a guided tour.”
