Page 24 of Playing Dirty
“Yeah,” he said, the shift immediate. “I wanted to see if Joe’s gossip about that Wyoming license checked out.”
I reached for my laptop on the kitchen island, flipped it open, and turned it toward him. “Show me.”
Sawyer opened Google Maps, and in a few clicks, there it was. “Casper, Wyoming,” he said, tapping the screen. “This is the address listed under his driver’s license.”
I leaned in.
It was a single-family house. Nice neighborhood, clean street. But what caught my eye wasn’t the house—it was what sat across from it.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Sawyer zoomed in.
“Looks like an old barn,” he said. “Not much else around it. Just a fence, a patch of trees, maybe a lot.”
“Abandoned?”
He shrugged. “Could be. Roof looks half-caved. No signs of upkeep.”
We stared at the screen together for a long moment, something electric rising between us. Not excitement.
Purpose.
I crossed my arms. “That barn could give us the angle we need.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
Sawyer was still studying the satellite view on my laptop when my phone lit up again on the counter.
Callie.
I stared at it a second too long. My name on her screen was probably buried in some contact list undermechanicorannoying neighbor. But still—she was calling.
Sawyer raised an eyebrow. “You gonna answer that, or want me to do it in my most charming Southern drawl?”
I swiped and hit speaker. “Hey.”
She hesitated. Just enough to make me feel it. “Hey. Um… sorry to bother you.”
Her voice was soft. Hesitant. Like she wasn’t sure I’d pick up, let alone listen.
“I just… I heard from Matt.”
I straightened. My stomach knotted.
“He finally texted,” she continued. “Said he’s not coming back yet. Offered to double my pay if I keep the store going until he gets back.”
Sawyer muttered something under his breath.
I gripped the edge of the counter. “That right?”
“Yeah,” she said. “He said he appreciated me holding it together.”
“Did he ask howyou’redoing?”
Her pause was answer enough. “No. He didn’t.”
The silence stretched. I didn’t fill it.
