Page 105 of Chasing Callie

“Not here.” Knox’s focus darts around the parking lot, taking in the tourists walking by, the windows of the station. He jerks his head toward my SUV. “Let’s go.”

We pile into my vehicle, the guys automatically taking their usual spots: Knox in the passenger seat, the twins in the back. I start the engine and pull out of the parking lot, my hands still trembling slightly from the adrenaline.

“Okay,” I say once we’re moving. “Spill. What the fuck is going on?”

Jax sighs from the backseat. “I’m pretty sure they think we’re all suspects.”

The air rushes out of my lungs. I knew that was possible when they were taken in this morning, but hearing it makes it real. “That’s crazy. Did you tell them we were all together last night?” That’s an alibi.

“We did,” Brax says, his usual easy-going demeanor replaced by something harder. “But we have motives written all over us. The confrontation at the diner, our history with Penelope, the way we all reacted when Theo showed up, and you’re not a great alibi. You have motive too.”

My hands grip the steering wheel a little harder. So maybe I had thought about murdering Theo. Is that a crime? “Do they have any evidence?”

“No.” Knox’s voice is flat, emotionless. “That’s the only reason we’re not in cells right now.”

“Something was weird though,” Brax continues, his voice dropping lower. “Trina asked why we stole Theo’s wallet and car.”

I frown, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “His car was stolen?” Why would someone murder him and then steal his car? It’s not like they’d be able to drive it. Unless maybe they didn’t want to drive it. Maybe they wanted to sell it for parts.

The pieces start clicking together in my mind, fragments of memory surfacing. Theo’s phone buzzing constantly. His paranoia near the end of our relationship. The way he’d jump every time someone knocked on the door.

“Oh my god.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and I slam on the brakes, pulling over to the side of the road. My heart pounds, blood roaring in my ears. If I’m right, then the guys can’t be suspects.

“Callie?” Knox’s hand lands on my thigh. “What is it?”

I turn in my seat. “I think I know what happened.” All three guys wait for me to continue, their attention laser-focused on me. “When Theo and I were dating, he kept getting these weird text messages.” The words tumble out faster as the memory becomes clearer. “Threatening ones. He told me they were spam, just random scammers, but. . .”

“But?” Brax prompts.

“I’m not so sure they were random. Sometimes he went to play poker with his friends. What if it was more than that, though? Those texts started getting really aggressive right around the time he stole my art and had that big show. Probably because he needed money.”

Knox’s brow furrows. “What kind of threats was he getting?”

“Pay up or else. Stuff about what would happen if he didn’t settle his debts.” My stomach churns as I replay those conversations. “His explanation made sense to me at the time. Scammers can come across as really aggressive and demanding, but what if he owed money to some really dangerous people? What if that’s why he stole my art?”

The silence in the SUV is deafening as they process this.

“Remember those guys the other night?” I ask Jax. “They were looking for him.” I quickly tell the guys about the men and the cash they offered for information on Theo.

Jax grimaces. “They could be loan sharks.”

“It makes sense,” I continue, my voice gaining strength. “He would have made a lot from that show, but with me gone and all my other pieces back here with me, maybe he couldn’t keep paying them off. Maybe they came to collect and things went wrong.”

“And Penelope was a casualty.” Brax rubs his hand over his face. “Fuck, maybe you’re onto something.”

Knox glances out of the windshield. “If you’re right, then we need to tell the police. This could clear us.”

Without hesitation, I check my mirrors and flip a U-turn, tires squealing as I head back toward the station. “Then that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

CALLIE

My nerves are still fried from leaving the station not so long ago. I really don’t want to go back, but this is information the cops need. My stomach churns as we push through the station doors. I swipe my palms against my jeans, trying to wipe away the nervous sweat.

Knox’s hand finds the small of my back, a gentle pressure that steadies me. “You got this, Alley cat.”

The pet name sends warmth through my chest, but worry and fear still nag at me. This information isn’t a magic bullet. But it’s something. Hopefully, it’s enough to get the guys off.