Page 105 of Deeper

My mind searches for answers, but my answers are with Willy.

I sit in my truck, unsure of where to go or what to do next. I replay every second I’ve spent with Willy in my head, trying to piece together why he would turn himself in for killing people I’m very certain he didn’t.

Did he know more than I thought? How could he?

I drive back to my place, hoping for some sort of direction.

When I get there, Willy’s place looks the same as it does every time I pull up, but it won’t be long before crime scene tape ropes off his lot. Everything looks as it usually does with the exception of a missing horseshoe stake. I scan the area and find it firmly planted on the far side of my own lot. I move to it and then bend to touch the top of the cold metal. A few feet farther from where I stand is a horseshoe. Another is a few feet beyond that and then another. The last horseshoe is a dead ringer around a rock.

Beneath the rock, under a layer of dirt, is an envelope that’s addressed to Rylan and me.

I head inside my place and straight back to my room. I leave the envelope on my bed as I shower and dress, but I spend the whole time wondering what’s inside it. When I leave, I grab the envelope on my way out the door.

The cops are still outside Rylan’s when I pull into her driveway.

I’ve got company the second I have one foot out of my truck. The two cops waddle up the driveway. I’m painfully aware of the letter in my pocket from Willy as they approach.

“Who are you, and what’s your business here?” the cop to my right asks.

“Hello, officers.” Calm. Cool. Collected.

“Your name and how you know Rylan Pierce, please.”

“Callen, and Rylan is my girl.”

“Your girl? What exactly does that mean?”

“It means, I’m with her. It means, she’s important to me. It means, I’m counting on forever. Though I’m guessing that’s not really what you’re interested in hearing from me by initiating this little chat.”

“I suggest you do yourself a favor and stay away from that girl. She’s damaged goods.”

I tower over both officers. “No more damaged than you or me.”

“The rumors about her and how she behaves in that club must be true if you’re willing to ignore all the red flags covering that girl. She’s trash and on a one-way path to destruction.”

“You don’t know anything about that woman, her strength, or heart. I’m giving you an opportunity to say whatever you came over here for, but don’t insult Rylan Pierce in front of me.”

The officer to my right clears his throat as I crack my knuckles.

“There isn’t an officer in this town that doesn’t believe she didn’t have something, if not everything, to do with these murders. We may not have the evidence to back our suspicions, and that man might have confessed, but I think we both know that he isn’t guilty.”

“Excuse me.” My voice is hard as I move to step around the officer.

“Her prints were found in Sebastian Rutherford’s home. Was he a friend of Rylan’s?”

His voice stops me in my tracks, and my stomach drops. I didn’t get all of the evidence. I was crunched for time, and we were careless. Still, this guy is out here, chatting with me, and she isn’t in cuffs, so they don’t have anything. He’s fishing, and I’m not taking the bait.

I keep walking away from the cop.

“I suggest the both of you get the hell out of this town. We might not be able to get her on this, but if you stick around, we’ll make sure to get you on something.”

Convincing Rylan to leave this town and come with me is my new top priority. Tatum is the only thing here for her, but she has to see that she can’t stay here. I want her with me.

I let myself into Rylan’s house. She is sleeping soundlessly, and I hate to disturb her, but this is important.

I sit on the edge of her bed and pull her legs onto my lap. “Rylan. Rylan, baby, wake up.”

She stirs, but her eyes stay closed.

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