?Colt. You?re not a preteen girl. Texting in all caps is not necessary. If you don?t understand the booking system for your own business, call Summer. She set it up. Or Harper. She understands it too. Dylan told me she?d be more than willing to help you out answering phones. Just give her the business line. And tell Seth to watch his mouth or I?ll wash it out with soap when I get back. I?ll be back in a month or so. Be good. Give Ten my love.?
Colt frowned, striking the ?end? button on his phone a bit harder than necessary after replaying Austin?s voice mail for the fourth time in an hour. Her voice had been low. A near whisper. And it came without a hint of her natural accent. There was laughter and amiable chatter in the distance. A break room. It felt like someone sneaking a call in from a company break room.
There wasn?t anything the least bit foreboding about the message. He could tell by her tone that there was no villainous kidnapper in the background with a gun to her head ordering her to tell Colt everything was fine but he couldn?t help the suspicion nagging at him. Austin was hiding something from him and concern for what it possibly could be was starting to eat at him.
Having just returned from questioning Austin?s boyfriend, Slate, at Slate?s New Haven private investigation office, the blue pickup truck was still rumbling in the drive before his house as he set the phone on the dash. It vibrated with the grumbling of the engine but he didn?t lift his hand from his knee to cut off the ignition. Just leave it be, Slate had dismissed with a shrug before reminding him pointedly about his obligation to his ill girlfriend and then quickly switching topics to the start of football season. Slate had clearly not wanted him to go hunting after Austin... which, unfortunately, had only made Colt want to find her more.
With a huff of an exhale, he reached up to cut the ignition. His phone was lifted to his ear as he slid out of the truck after hitting a speed dial number.
?Hey, Dylan. I need a favor. Can you keep Ten entertained for the day so she doesn't overdo it?"
A grin formed at the response from the other end as he bounded his way up the steps and onto the porch of the cabin. "Perfect. You're the best, DeeDee."
Colt frowned, striking the ?end? button on his phone a bit harder than necessary after replaying Austin?s voice mail for the fourth time in an hour. Her voice had been low. A near whisper. And it came without a hint of her natural accent. There was laughter and amiable chatter in the distance. A break room. It felt like someone sneaking a call in from a company break room.
There wasn?t anything the least bit foreboding about the message. He could tell by her tone that there was no villainous kidnapper in the background with a gun to her head ordering her to tell Colt everything was fine but he couldn?t help the suspicion nagging at him. Austin was hiding something from him and concern for what it possibly could be was starting to eat at him.
Having just returned from questioning Austin?s boyfriend, Slate, at Slate?s New Haven private investigation office, the blue pickup truck was still rumbling in the drive before his house as he set the phone on the dash. It vibrated with the grumbling of the engine but he didn?t lift his hand from his knee to cut off the ignition. Just leave it be, Slate had dismissed with a shrug before reminding him pointedly about his obligation to his ill girlfriend and then quickly switching topics to the start of football season. Slate had clearly not wanted him to go hunting after Austin... which, unfortunately, had only made Colt want to find her more.
With a huff of an exhale, he reached up to cut the ignition. His phone was lifted to his ear as he slid out of the truck after hitting a speed dial number.
?Hey, Dylan. I need a favor. Can you keep Ten entertained for the day so she doesn't overdo it?"
A grin formed at the response from the other end as he bounded his way up the steps and onto the porch of the cabin. "Perfect. You're the best, DeeDee."