Page 62 of Trapper Road

It’s obvious he wants to protest, but I make it clear from my body language and expression that this is a battle he isn’t going to win. Eventually, he shrugs. “Fine by me,” he grumbles.

I go back to the trailer, taking a seat on the front step and waiting. It takes about half an hour before Chief Parks arrives and even then he hardly spares me a glance before following one of his officers around the back of the trailer, presumably to see the truck.

More time passes, enough that I start to get annoyed, before the same officer as before comes to get me. “Chief’s ready to talk now.”

He doesn’t wait for me to answer before turning and starting around back. It’s a power move for the chief to make me come to him, one that gets my ire up, but not enough to make me push back.

Out back, a crowd of cops are gathered around the line of old cars. They’ve already pulled the tarp completely off the truck and have both front doors thrown open. I look around for evidence of a forensics team but don’t see any. It puts a bad taste in my mouth. This case is too serious to risk losing evidence because of poor practice.

Chief Parks notices me and starts over. He’s practically preening with importance, which shouldn’t surprise me. This is probably his biggest case, and he won’t want to miss the accolades if he’s finally found a solid lead. I’m sure there are already news vans headed this way to capture it all on camera.

“Ms. Proctor,” he says in greeting. “Looks like you’ve had a productive day.” He’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It has to smart that he’s been working on this case for months, and I’ve been here less than a day and have potentially found the clue that eluded everyone else.

“So you think this could be the truck that picked up Juliette?” I ask.

“Matches the description the witnesses gave.”

I don’t point out that their descriptions were so vague that almost any truck could be considered a match. Instead, I gesture at the officer leaning into the front seat. “What about forensics? You not worried about contaminating the potential crime scene?”

He gives me a long, hard look. It’s very clear he doesn’t like me, but he knows he can’t be openly hostile since I’ve just handed him a potential win in a case that’s been dogging him for months. “My boys know what they’re doing. I trained them myself.”

Pressing the issue won’t get me anywhere. If anything, it will just make him dig his heels in harder. He seems the type that doesn’t particularly like being told what to do, especially by a woman.

“I’m going to need you to come into the station to give a statement. I’m sure you understand,” he says.

I nod. “Of course.”

His eyes narrow. “I hope I don’t learn that you did anything to mess with my investigation. I’ll be very troubled if I discover you did anything illegal that will compromise any evidence we find.”

I’d love to tell him to shove the attitude and to show more gratitude, but I’m well aware of how much power small town police chiefs have. He seems the type to have me arrested and thrown in jail and come up with a reason why after the fact. I cross my arms instead of responding.

“So, what led you all the way out here?” he asks. “Gotta admit, it’s a needle in a haystack.”

I decide to leave Connor’s role out of it. He doesn’t need to be dragged into this, especially because breaking into someone else’s account can be a felony. “I found a fake profile Juliette posted on a dating site. She’d been talking often to someone named Beau. I had my office track the IP address, and it led here.” I lift a shoulder. “Pretty straightforward stuff, actually.” I can’t resist adding in that last dig, and it’s clear by the way his eyes narrow that Parks doesn’t appreciate it.

“Well, I’ll need to take your statement tonight, while everything is still fresh. I want this case closed down tight by morning.”

I think back to the confusion on Trevor’s face when the police cars came screaming down the driveway. Something about this still doesn’t sit right with me. “Ifthe boy was involved,” I point out. “He might not have been.”

He laughs. “You let me take care of the details. I’ll have a unit escort you back.” He turns on his heel and returns to the truck, saying something under his breath that causes the men around him to glance my way and chuckle.

Annoyance simmers under my skin. How had I so completely misjudged the man when I first talked to him? I’d left that meeting impressed by how willing he’d been to involve me. How open he’d been with information. Of course, now I realized that he was desperate.

If this lead pans out, he plans to take all the credit, that much is obvious. I know that shouldn’t matter. What matters is finding out what happened to Juliette. But still, I have an uneasy feeling in my gut about where this might be leading.

I make my way back to my car, passing the parade of cop cars. In one of them I can just make out the shadowy outline of Trevor sitting along in the backseat, head bowed.

I don’t stop, but continue on until I reach my SUV. Once inside I let out a breath and pull up my location tracking app. Connor and Vee’s icons are both at the coffee shop I visited this morning. Good choice, I think. I can’t really blame them for spending the afternoon there when I’d spent hours there this morning.

I call Connor. He answers with a grunt. Still carrying a grudge it seems. Hopefully, my news will cheer him up some.

“Got an update for you: we tracked the IP address used for that dating profile, and it led us to a potential suspect.”

“Seriously?” The attitude disappears just like that. In its place is an eagerness I haven’t heard in too long. It reminds me of times past, when we used to spend more time together. When he wasn’t so surly and distant. It causes an ache in my heart.

How had I not noticed how great the distance had grown between us? I know I’ve been MIA a lot recently with all the doctors’ appointments and physical therapy, but also just dealing with my own emotional trauma.

I need to get my shit together. I need to be there for my kids. I need to be more present in their lives.

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