Page 49 of Flint
I manage to get myself together in record time and head upstairs to join Flint. He’s nowhere to be found in the main room, but I eventually find him out front, waiting for the delivery.
Flint is sitting in a chair with one boot propped on the railing. He hands me a fresh cup of coffee. I take it and sit down beside him.
“Are you sure you’re up to this, seeing the vehicle again?” he asks, more serious than he was earlier.
“Of course. I thought you wanted me to be here to verify this is the one I saw.”
“Only if you’re sure that you’re up to it,” he replies mildly.
He’s not wrong to be worried. I can already feel anxiety churning. I quickly take a sip of coffee, hoping it will calm my stomach. Before I can answer, there’s a commotion at the gate. When they swing open, a flatbed rolls into the compound and pulls up lengthwise in front of the clubhouse.
We come to our feet, setting our coffee aside on the porch railing. My knees feel weak, so I reach out and grasp his arm for support.
“You don’t have to be out here for this,” he reminds me again.
“I need to see it one more time to be sure it’s the one. If I don’t, I’ll keep having bad dreams about it.”
He slides my hand down and laces his fingers through mine. We move forward together, him in his Sons cut and me wearing his property cut in public for the first time. We walk to the end, and I look long and hard at the back of the sedan.
It’s the same car, alright.
Images come flooding back of how the suits had the man surrounded, how battered he looked, and his hand reaching for me. I’d kind of hoped it wasn’t the same vehicle, in the same way I’d hoped that the events hadn’t really happened. But I know what I saw, and the fact that the men had been questioning my old landlord told me that they were dangerous.
Anything could be in the trunk.
I sway on my feet, and Flint is there, wrapping one arm around me. “I’ve got you, darlin’.”
“It’s the car.”
“I could tell from your reaction it was. Just breathe, Jules.”
I do as he says, and he doesn’t take his arm off my waist.
The flatbed’s air brakes hiss. The driver climbs down and walks back to talk to Jasper, who is standing around with a dozen or so other brothers. Jasper says something to the driver that I can’t hear, and he starts unstrapping the car.
“Detective Morgan should be here any minute,” Flint whispers against my hair. “Do you want to sit back down until he gets here?”
“No. I’m fine now. The first look was the worst look. I want to see what’s in the trunk.”
He doesn’t say anything for a second. Then he says, “Okay. Fair enough. I’d be curious about that if I were you as well. We need to wait for Morgan though.”
The car comes off the flatbed slowly and slides onto the flat pavement. There are ugly scratches down one side. When I realize there are no bad smells coming off it to indicate a dead body might be in the trunk, a wave of relief sweeps over me.
Jasper walks over to us. He tips his chin at Flint. “Morgan’s pulling in. You sure you want Jules along for the inspection? She can wait inside with Tessa.”
Snatching up all my courage, I tell him, “I’m staying until we get to the bottom of this.”
Jasper looks at me for a second before saying, “All right. If that’s what you want.”
Morgan jumps out of his SUV and rushes over with a black case in his hands. “Is this the vehicle?”
“It looks exactly like the car I saw. It has paint that matches my car along the side where they tried to run me off the road.”
Morgan pats the case in his hand with his free hand. “That’s great. I’ll take samples and match them to your vehicle to be sure.”
Jasper gestures to the trunk. “We haven’t opened it. We waited like you requested.”
“That’s good. It means whatever evidence we find inside should be fresh.”
