And I sure as hell didn't hurt her." The scarred guard's hand shifted near his jacket. ""We should search the bays."" Caleb looked at him. ""Nobody is tearing my shop apart."" Evelyn stepped closer. ""Then prove it."" Caleb held her stare, then turned toward the office. ""I've got cameras on the lot. They overwrite every 48 hours. You want the truth? Come watch it."" The cramped office smelled of coffee, motor oil, and old paper.
Caleb sat at the outdated computer while Evelyn stood rigid behind him, her security chief at her shoulder. The footage flickered up in grainy black and white, 12:14 a.m. The G Wagon limped into the lot. Harper stumbled out. Caleb appeared with the flashlight lowered.
They watched him change the tire in the rain. They watched him hand her the flannel jacket. They watched Harper drive away alone. Evelyn pressed one hand to her mouth. The anger drained from her face, leaving something more frightening behind.
A mother's helplessness. "She left," she whispered. ""She really left." Caleb nodded. "I told you." The security chief leaned closer.
"Pause it." Caleb froze the frame. In the distance, down the street beyond the edge of the lot, a dark sedan sat beneath dead streetlights. Its headlights were off. As Harper's vehicle pulled away, the sedan rolled forward slowly, like a shark leaving shadow.
Caleb felt his stomach twist. "They were waiting." Evelyn's eyes widened. She didn't know these roads. If they followed her, where would she go?
Caleb looked at the old paper map pinned beside his tool calendar. "I told her to take the main road toward I-90, but if she saw them behind her, she would panic." "Most likely she turned onto Canyon Road." The security chief frowned. "What's there?"
"Nothing good." Blind curves, no cell service, old logging roads. If you don't know it, you get trapped fast. Evelyn opened her briefcase and pulled out a banded stack of hundred-dollar bills, slamming it onto his desk. "50,000 now.
Another 100,000 if you take us there." Caleb looked at the cash. It was more money than he had seen in years. Enough to stop the bank. Enough to breathe.
Enough to buy time for Leo. His hand hovered near the desk for half a second. Then he pushed the money back. "I don't want your money." Evelyn stared at him, stunned.
Caleb grabbed his keys. "But I have a son." "If he were missing, I'd want someone to help me." "Let's go." 15 minutes later, Caleb's battered tow truck led the convoy into the wet green throat of the old Canyon Road.