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"Hello," Sutton said briskly. "How’s everything going?"
“We’ve got some new information,” Brock answered.
Sutton’s gaze sharpened as he scanned the screen. When he saw Luke, a faint flicker of displeasure crossed his face.
Brock jumped in to explain. “Luke’s helping me out on this one.”
Silence settled over the video call.
"I won’t let you down," Luke said quickly. “Not this time."
Another long pause.
Sutton pressed his lips into a hard line before finally responding. “We’ll see how it goes.”
Jules’s heart twisted for Luke. She could tell how much Sutton’s opinion mattered to him. According to what Brock had told her, Luke was trying hard to rebuild his life. It certainly appeared that way.
Sensing the awkwardness, her dad cleared his throat, his tone warm and deferential. “Sutton, we know how busy you are and appreciate you making time for this call.”
The edges of Sutton’s eyes softened ever so slightly. “Of course. That’s what I’m here for. Happy to help.” His attention snapped back to Brock, businesslike again. “All right, tell me what you’ve got.”
Brock glanced at Jules. She gave a small nod of permission for him to continue, steeling herself for what he was about to say.
“Jules had a nightmare last night," Brock said, "and she was able to remember some important details from the accident.”
Sutton and Jules’s dad both leaned closer to their screens.
"Tell us," Sutton prompted.
Jules swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.
“What did you remember, sweetheart?” Her dad piped in, voice brimming with compassion.
She recounted the sensation of being trapped, the footsteps approaching her overturned car, the flicker of metal gleaming in the darkness.
When she reached the part about the gun, her dad’s face darkened. Even through the screen, she could feel his protective anger.
Brock’s hand found hers, a steady, grounding touch that gave her the strength to continue.
“Even though I couldn’t see his face …” Her voice trembled. “I knew it was Steve Randall, and I knew that he intended to kill me.” A shiver ran through her. The memory still felt half-formed and jagged like the shattered glass that had rained down on her from the broken windshield.
Sutton looked thoughtful. “If Steve Randall intended to kill you, then what stopped him from completing the task?”
Jules flinched, not comfortable with this line of questioning. A look at Dad’s grave expression told her that he was uncomfortable also. “I’m not sure. Maybe someone else came up on the scene, or he heard sirens.”
“That’s a definite possibility,” Sutton acknowledged. “At any rate, it tells us this wasn’t a random accident."
At the very least, Jules now knew that much. Her stomach twisted. She’d been holding onto the hope that the accident was random, but now she had to face the hard truth. She was in danger from a man out for revenge.
Brock took the reins again. “We’ve got the PI searching for Randall. One week before Jules’s accident, Randall had words with his boss. He stormed off and didn’t return. He hasn’t shown back up for work since and has gone completely off the grid.”
Sutton’s brow furrowed.
“And," Brock added, "Clayton had a good idea. We’re throwing a birthday party for Jules next Friday—sort of a belated celebration since she was in the hospital on her actual birthday. We’re inviting her coworkers. It’ll give me a chance to observe them and ask questions without raising suspicion.”
“Smart,” Sutton said approvingly.
Her dad jumped in. "Tell him about Mindy."