Page 105 of Love on the Line

Chapter 38

Wyatt’s callto Anne went to voicemail for the fourth time in the last hour. He’d texted and called Emily with no answer as well. Maybe the party was going strong, and no one could hear their phones. What if John was wrong and Wyatt wasn’t the target? All he could think about was if anything happened, he wouldn’t be in town to help.

He’d signed footballs, taken pictures with the kids, and called a friend to fill in for him tomorrow. Nice to know some of his old buddies still had his back and rallied for a good cause.

His calf cramped as he pressed the brake and exited the highway. John had called to tell him Trish had car trouble and was running late. She should be at the station soon to work with the sketch artist.

Wyatt flipped on the radio. Anything to distract him from the million thoughts buzzing in his head. Now that he was in town, he’d go straight to Emily’s. If he saw Anne’s car in the lot, he’d drive home and not worry her. She didn’t need to know he was on edge after finding out someone had hired Moe Dog and Charlie. Best to keep her out of the loop until John got to the bottom of it all. After that, Wyatt and Anne could get on with life.

His chest warmed as he pictured the glowing smile on her face when he’d slipped the engagement ring on her finger. If he could make her grin like that every day, he’d be a happy man. They had so much ahead of them. He’d started looking at properties that had big yards with running room for Goober and kids one day.

Wyatt shook his head. Hot damn his life had done a one-eighty since he’d met Anne. Never expected to settle down and think about space for swing sets. His heart swelled, pressing against his ribcage.

He pulled into a gas station, filled up the tank, and sent a text to the dog sitter. Might as well pick up the goofy mutt on his way home. With any luck, they’d both be back there in a half hour. Wyatt could use a beer and some chill time. Probably acting a bit paranoid, but he’d trade that for peace of mind.

When he reached Emily’s apartment complex, he drove around the lot, searching for Anne’s car. Emily’s Beetle was parked in a numbered spot. His neck muscles grew taut while he made a second pass. No sign of the Honda.

Shit. A frisson of unease worked its way up his back. Where was Anne? Maybe Emily had picked her up or something. Parking in an empty space, he cut the engine and dialed her number. Again, she didn’t answer.

She’d wonder why he wasn’t at the event if he knocked on the door, but he’d deal with that after he’d seen her safe and sound. His heartbeat quickened as he climbed the stairs, like he was on a rollercoaster, tick, tick, ticking up the steep incline.

He knocked on Emily’s door and stood back. No music or laughter came from the apartment. If they’d cancelled the party, Anne should have called.

The door burst open.

“So, it’s true. You are in town.” Emily glared at him, her mouth twisted.

Wyatt jerked his head back at the venom in her tone. “What? I’m…is Anne here?”

Emily thrust her hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”.

A red flag waved before his eyes, and his blood pressure rose. What the hell was going on? “Please, I need to talk to Anne. Is she here?”

“No.” Emily all but spat the word. “Why aren’t you at the shore?”

“I found someone to fill in for me. I—”

“Yup. Just like she said.” Emily’s nostrils flared, and she shook her head.

“Who said what?” His head hurt as he strained to follow. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me, but I need to find Anne.”

“Oh, I bet you do. To make sure you know where she is at all times tonight.”

“Well…yeah.” Since the case was under investigation, he couldn’t discuss it with Emily, or why he came home. Sweat dripped down the side of his face. “Look, I don’t know what’s wrong, but she’s not answering my calls. Do you know where she is?”

“Yeah, I do as a matter of fact.”

“Where?”

“At your apartment, where all the women are,” Emily said.

Fuck. A jolt of alarm shot through his system. With a target on his back, the last place he wanted Anne to be was alone at his home. She needed to stay away until they found the guy who’d hired those goons. “Why would she…never mind, when did she go? Can you call her and stop her? I don’t know why she won’t answer me.”

“Too late. She should be there about now.” Emily raised her chin, a smug look on her face. “Your tight-end is screwed.”

Emily slammed the door and flipped the deadbolt.

What the fuck?

He flinched and dropped his jaw. Christ, he needed a playbook for this. No clue what the hell was happening. Why was he screwed, and why did Anne go to his apartment? Nothing made sense. He didn’t have time to get answers out of Emily, who didn’t appear to be in a cooperative mood anyway.

Taking the steps two at a time, he raced down the staircase.

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