Page 66 of Killer Honeymoon

“What do they call you?” Chesterfield asked.

“Wildcard,” Sawyer replied.

Royce threw up his hands. “Not in this case. I promise.”

“I trust you,” Chesterfield said. “I’ll check in with you after I’ve had a chance to scope out Gary’s situation.”

“Sounds good. Be safe,” Sawyer told him.

“You too. The maniac already knows you suspect him.” He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe I should send an officer with you.”

“We’re big boys and know how to look out for ourselves,” Sawyer said.

“And we’re surprisingly hard to kill,” Royce added.

Chesterfield chuckled and shook his head. “Those will be stories for another day. Take care, gentlemen.”

Sawyer and Royce exited the station and strolled toward the downtown district like they didn’t have a care in the world, even though they were both highly attuned to everything going on around them. They’d scoped out half the local watering holes when Chesterfield called Sawyer’s phone to say there was no sign of Gary in his house. Someone had jimmied the side garage door open just like they had at Sawyer and Royce’s. There’d been no blood or sign of a struggle.

“This is nothing but a decoy,” Chesterfield said, “but I’ll do my due diligence and make sure we have a warrant ready by the time the state police arrive tomorrow. Are you fellas having any luck?”

“Swing and a miss so far, Chief,” Sawyer said. “We have a few more places to hit.”

“Well, it’s getting late. If you can’t pick up Evan’s trail after that, I want you guys to head home.”

“Will do, Chief,” Sawyer said.

He repeated the conversation to Royce after they disconnected.

Royce squeezed his hand, and they continued strolling. “We can head back to the cottage after making our rounds at the bars, but I won’t sleep worth a shit until Gary is apprehended.”

“Maybe we should take shifts on watch,” Sawyer suggested. “That way we both catch a little shuteye.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

It was almost midnight by the time they left the last bar on their list without so much as a whisper of where Evan might be. Sawyer had felt relatively safe while strolling down the well-lit streets in the party district. The night drew in closer, and the shadows lengthened and deepened as they made their way back to the cottage. Every hair on Sawyer’s body stood at attention, and his senses heightened as he assessed the surroundings for any sign of danger. The breeze kicked up, and it felt like a ghostly finger trailing along the back of his neck. He didn’t take an easy breath until their cottage came into view.

Sawyer glanced over at the rental property across the street and noticed the living room light was on. “Kids are still up.”

Royce had started to respond when a shadow moved behind the curtain covering the big picture window. Both men stilled.

“That silhouette is too tall and too wide to belong to any of the people staying in the house,” Royce said.

They didn’t even debate or discuss a plan before crossing the street, which probably wasn’t the wisest course of action.

Sawyer knocked on the door but not the same way he would have if he was serving a warrant. He aimed for a friendly neighbor vibe. No noise came from inside the house, and he was just about to knock again when he heard steps approaching the door. They were staggered and clumsy at first but leveled out the closer they came. If Gary was inside the house, and Sawyer would bet Royce’s left nut he was, he’d send someone to the door to see who was visiting. He’d keep a gun trained on them if he allowed them to open the door. Sawyer strained to hear a conversation, but he couldn’t decipher any verbal communication. Then again, waving a firearm around was a form of communication.

After a pause, he heard the distinct sound of the deadbolt turning. His heart thundered as he realized they’d done the exact opposite of what the chief had instructed them to do. If Gary wanted to kill them, he was about to get his chance.

“Who is it?” Chrissy asked through the door.

“Sawyer and Royce from across the street,” Sawyer replied.

Chrissy eased the door open just wide enough to poke her head out. Her eyes were swollen and red, and it couldn’t be more evident that she’d been crying. Anxiety squeezed Sawyer’s chest until it felt like his airway had been restricted to pinhole size.

“Hey, kiddo,” Royce said casually. “I know it’s late, but we saw the lights on and thought we’d stop by. It’s been a hectic few days, and I thought we could all use a nice bonfire before heading back to our normal lives. What do you think?”

“N-n-now?” she stammered.