I shake my head. “I’ve got appointments at home.”
Eli nods once and leans into the counter, his expression all business. “Call me if you go anywhere. I’ll let you know when we get eyes on Ray Barrett. I’m expecting it will be today. Jen tells me you have an alarm at home. Keep it on. And let me or Trig know if anything seems off or out of place.”
“Honestly, Ray just got paroled. He’d be stupid to do anything to jeopardize that. I’m sure you don’t have anything to worry about,” Jen adds.
“Call me anytime,” Eli offers and I smile, though this one isn’t big and gives me a headache in a whole new way.
“We’re out of here,” Jen calls and Eli follows her out. “Love you and we’ll talk later.”
I sigh. “Love you, too.”
Griffin finishes his breakfast. After I clean him up and wipe down the kitchen, I look down at him where he’s banging two copper measuring cups together. “You ready to go?”
“Go-go-gogogoogo.”
I pick him up. “Let’s go. Lord knows, I need a shower after yesterday.”
18
Burn It
Mop your floors and dust your baseboards. It’s like cleanin’ out the corners of your soul.
Trig
I always wondered when other kids of shithead parents realized how bad they had it. For me, my mother was next to perfect, which always made my father look like an even bigger asshole. From my earliest memories, I hated him and knew he was a son-of-a-bitch before I knew what a son-of-a-bitch was. He had no regard for anyone or anything but himself.
I never asked my mom why she married him. Or even more, why she stayed as long as she did. It seemed almost cruel to make her say it aloud because I knew. She was trapped—plain and simple. When I got older and realized the shit she put up with—years of cheating, drugs, and his narcissistic behavior—it was easy to see how hard it was for her to claw her way out from that. He made sure of it. Yeah, I might’ve grown up on that land with my asshole father and his shithead brother, but it was always just my mom and me.
I haven’t laid eyes on him since I snuck into the back of the courtroom on the day he was sentenced. I needed to hear first-hand how long he’d be rotting in prison. It was the day before I left for California.
Prison has not been kind to him. He’s aged, sure, but the look on his face in the surveillance videos says it all. He’s out, he’s back, and he’s pissed.
And that settles in my gut about as well as a gas station enchilada.
“Got a tracker on his car.”
I look up from the pictures Pettit just handed me and toss them on my desk. “That was fast. Are you sure you don’t want to bill me?”
He shrugs. “It isn’t that big of a deal. It was easy. I slid into the parking lot when he checked in with his new parole officer. You can download the app and log in so you can keep track of him on your own. I’ll monitor the cameras and let you know if anything shady is happening on his property.”
“What’s he driving?”
Eli flips through the pictures until he gets to the ones I hadn’t looked at yet. “Ford truck, nineteen eighty-four. Plates are registered and current, liability insurance is paid for the next year. So far, he’s on the up-and-up.”
I flip back to the pictures of him and my uncle. My dad is lighting a cigarette and they’re deep in conversation. It’s like I haven’t been gone from that life for an entire decade. I grew up seeing them just like that.
I shake my head. “They’re up to their normal shit which is no good. I can see it. I just need to stay one step ahead of him.”
“One more thing,” Pettit adds and grabs a pen to scribble a long set of letters and numbers. “This is your login. You can check the tracker on your dad’s and Ellie’s car with that. I put it on hers this morning when we left the condo. I know she’s got a security system, but I also added cameras outside her house. Same app, same login. You’ll see it on the feed. I’m not going to tell Jen because she’ll tell Ellie even though I know she’s worried about her sister.”
“You’ll keep this secret, huh?” I mutter.
He has the nerve to smile and it’s not even sheepish. “Sorry about that. Jen came to the office and she saw the file on your dad. I had to tell her.”
I lean back in my chair and run my hand down my face. “It’s all good. I mean, it’s not but it will be.”
“From the looks of you two last night, I wish you luck.”
