Page 234 of Soul So Dark

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Dallas

Brett hands me a straw from the container on the counter and I proceed to unwrap it and stick it in the plastic top of my paper cup. She’s a quick learner, and after walking down here only a couple of times for coffee, she already knows how I drink mine.

A large cappuccino, sometimes hot, sometimes iced, but always with a straw.

But I’ve learned a lot about her, too, over the past year. One of the first things that I learned is that she really likes her coffee, and I will take advantage of this as much as I can. Fortunately, Brett is also very friendly, so it was only a matter of time before she started sharing the lesser-known details of her life. They don’t include my brother yet, but I imagine I’ll have to level up in our friendship for that kind of paydirt.

“Did the top brass and their inspectors finally leave?” I ask, taking a sip of my steaming coffee.

“Yes,” Brett groans, punching the button for a latte. “Dave gave me a couple of extra days off for my trouble, so I’m going on a last-minute micro-vacation.”

“Up to the lake?” I guess.

Brett arches her brow. “How did you know that’s where I’m from?”

Shit.

“Oh, uh, I think you mentioned it when we first met,” I lie, “but I can’t remember the name of the town.”

Whatever, I’ll gaslight her all day long if that’s what it takes.

“North Bay,” she nods. “But, no, not this time. I don’t have time for a big trip, so I’m going to Salt Fork State Park for the rest of the week. You know, to soak up the solitude.”

“Oh, yeah, I know where that is!”

It takes all I have not to roll my eyes as I internally groan to myself. Why is Colson still being such a baby? He could’ve been down here already, working right here in this building and taking Brett out to the wilderness himself? It’s fortunate they seem to have a lot in common, especially since she’s going to spend the rest of her life with him.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

Eventually, I leave Brett, bidding her a wonderful week full of rest and relaxation while I try to keep my juggling chainsaws in the air. I should check in with Sergei. If I’ve learned anything about him over the past year, it’s that he’s calculating and methodical, which requires patience that I don’t have. It’s better he doesn’t tell Colson that I called him. If Colson’s going to listen to anyone, it’ll be the neutral player he spends 24 hours a day with in the middle of nowhere.

And then there’s Bowen.

I haven’t seen him in a long time, not since he showed up at Blood Horse with his pet. Fortunately, he stays away now that Alex is back, but I still never let my guard down. And neither does Alex. But Boy-Riley still regularly plays video games with him. That hasn’t changed. I still haven’t been able to drag an explicit confession out of him, but it only feeds the fire of destruction, and I have more than enough kindling for him. The hours of recorded conversations will keep compounding, and one day, Bowen will slip up. That, or my brother will kill him.

I wonder which will come first…

“I think you’ve investigated every guy I’ve had contact with since high school,” I tell Alex as we walk out the glass doors to the parking lot.

“It wasn’t difficult,” he smirks. “All I had to do was go down your friends list online.”

I give him a sharp smack across the arm and glance down at my phone to confirm the restaurant I’m meeting the girls at.

“I still never located that one guy—the lineman.”

“Bailey? I haven’t heard anything about him in…” I trail off, “I don’t even know the last time I heard his name.”

“People don’t just vanish. Everyone leaves a trail.”

I cast him a sideways glance. “Unless they’re dead.”

“Good point,” he chuckles. “I’ll check the obituaries next.”

I can’t dwell on whether Bailey, the electrical lineman, is deceased or not. I’m determined not to be late for the first girl dinner Shelby, Maddie, Carter, and I have had since Shelby returned from her summer in Colombia as part of her international medical school rotation. And it’s a good thing we made reservations because the dining room at the Rickhouse is packed. The only place I can find to park is in a neighborhood three blocks away.

My phone vibrates as I’m hurrying down the sidewalk. I’m prepared to see a confirmation from Alex that Lineman Bailey is currently in some hurricane-ravaged location repairing critical infrastructure instead of lying six feet under. But then I see the message is coming from my burner phone.