Page 5 of Furious
“Where are you going?” Chance asks.
“To see my old best friend Wren in Shell Cove. We stayed in touch while I was at boarding school and I promised I would hang out with her the second my flight landed. Then Mom ambushed me with the whole wedding thing and had all my stuff already packed, and I didn’t get to see her.”
That name doesn’t sound new. If I recall correctly, she mentioned Wren two years ago. Zara told her mom she was sleeping over at Wren’s house when she came to the race in Bridgeport.
“You’re going by Uber?” I ask.
She puts her phone back into her purse. “Yeah. Busses aren’t as frequent on weekends and it’s gonna take forever like that.”
“I could drive you, if you want,” Chance offers, beating me to it.
To my surprise, Zara doesn’t look too excited. “Thank you, but my ride is already here. Besides, you’d be bored with all our girl talk.”
Got it. She wants to have some time with her friend without us hovering around. I understand Chance’s desire to spend every minute with Zara. I feel the same way. But one of the things that makes our girl so attractive is her free spirit, her independence. We need to learn not to smother her with our attentions or rather than choosing between us, she’ll kick us both to the curb.
“Have fun, Zee.” I give her a brief kiss that leaves me wanting more. “But if you have any trouble getting a ride back home, call me or Chance. We’ll come and get you, ok?”
Chapter 2
Blast From The Past
ARES
“Fucking teenagers.” Dan Hurst spits out, showing me and my partner the CCTV footage that prompted him to call the sheriff’s department. “I miss the times when the biggest of our worries was to catch them trying to buy beer with fake IDs. Which was only a problem with the college kids and the tourists. For kids like you, it was impossible to even try. We’ve known you forever.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah, I get it. I’ll be able to drink legally as of next week.”
Dan smiles. “That’s right. Make sure you drop by. We’ll have a beer together. You deserve one just for never trying to come here with a fake ID.”
As if. Like Dan already pointed out, if you don’t count the tourists that descend into our town in the summer, and the college population, Star Cove is still a small town where we all know each other.
If that hadn’t made getting away with stuff like underage drinking hard enough, everyone in town knew my dad even before he became mayor. Dan is such a big fan that he never let my old man pay for beer.
“Here.” Dan stops the footage to show us the reason for his call. “See this?”
Two tall, lanky figures approach one of the two pumps. It’s impossible to identify them, because their faces are completely covered by helmets. The image is grainy, but those don’t look like football or hockey helmets. They’re motorcycle helmets.
We watch as they tap something against the display where you’re supposed to tap your debit card and fill four tanks with gas.
“What are we looking at?” I ask, wishing the images were better quality. “Was their card declined?”
“They didn’t use a card.” Dan explains. “I think they used a phone to hack into the system. They got to pump gas as if they were paying, but no payment was actually made. The pump shouldn’t work when the station is unmanned unless you enter a valid payment method. They got the gas as if they had paid, but the transaction shows declined.”
Huh. This isn’t good. “Can we have a copy of the video and see how the transaction shows in your system? Hopefully, they left some kind of an electronic trace that will give our IT department something to work on.”
What I don’t say is that our “IT department” is one single cop who attended a couple of IT classes in college and has been assigned to anything that has to do with technology at the station. From calling our internet provider when the system crashes, to cyber crime.
“There’s more.” Dan says. “I don’t know if the two things are related, but I found some damage out back. Follow me.”
The back of the small gas station coincides with the eastern boundary of the city. Drive past the gas station and you are no longer in Star Cove.
There’s some trash on the ground, a few broken bottles and cigarette butts.
“I’m never going to understand vandals.” My partner shakes her head. “Why make all this mess when there’s a dumpster right there?”
That’s a valid question, but there’s something else I’m wondering right now.
“You said you aren’t sure if this is related to the theft we just saw on camera. Don’t you have any footage of that?” I point at the camera perched on the wall right above the dumpster.
