Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Back next week? My heart dropped and my shoulders sagged. “Oh,” I said.
The man was looking at me closely. “Wait, are you Grace?”
“Yes. How did you—”
“I’m Dylan,” he said. “I work with Carson now, but I also lived with him in LA, before he went into the navy.”
“Oh!” I said, surprised and still not fully understanding how he knew my name but finding it interesting that another friend of Carson’s worked at Trilogy.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Dylan. Do you know where Carson went or how I can call him? I just wanted to…tell him something kind of important.”
He paused. “I do know where he went, but you won’t be able to reach him by cell. I’ve tried a few times today and evidently he isn’t getting reception.”
“Oh,” I said again, tilting my chin down and frowning. “Okay, well, can I leave you my phone number so you can give it to Carson if you get ahold of him?”
He paused, looking like he was considering something. Finally he said, “This something that you have to tell him, will he be happy to hear it?”
I gave a small laugh, holding back the tears that threatened. “I think so,” I whispered. “I hope so.”
He studied me again for a few seconds before saying, “Well, Grace, if you’re up for a six-hour drive, I can tell you where he is. If I know Carson, and I do, I’m pretty damn positive he wouldn’t mind that.”
I straightened. “Really?” I asked, my heart lurching. He had the address where Carson was!
He chuckled. “Yeah. What kind of car do you have?”
“Um, a Honda Accord.”
He shook his head. “That won’t work. Switch with me. I have four-wheel drive. Just take care of her.”
He turned back in the direction of the casino and gestured for me to follow him.
I ran to catch up, asking, “Where is he exactly, Dylan?”
He glanced at me as we walked toward the elevators to the garage. “He rented a cabin in Snowbird, Utah. Wait until you see that boy snowboard.” He grinned and held the garage door open for me.
“He rented a cabin to go snowboarding by himself?”
He nodded. “That’s Carson for you. He hasn’t been in the snow since he was discharged. He was itching for it. We’re all working, so none of us could go with him.”
“We?” I asked.
He nodded as he stopped next to a large black SUV. But he ignored my question and instead handed me his keys. I took them, hesitating only briefly before digging around in my purse for my own. I was giving my car to Carson’s friend—a stranger. I held back the smile that threatened at the knowledge that once again, I was tossing all plans and reason for Carson.
I pointed up the row of cars and hit my electronic door lock, making my car lights flash. Dylan looked at me and nodded, taking my keys.
“Hand me your phone,” he said. I did, and then he took a few minutes and programmed something in, looking between his own phone and mine.
“I put the address of the cabin he’s staying in into your GPS. I put my phone number in there too, just in case you need to reach me.”
I blinked as I took my phone back. I was beyond grateful for his help and his kindness, but I was confused. This was the first time I’d ever met this man. And if he knew my name, surely he knew that I was the prosecutor on Carson’s—and possibly his friend’s—case. “Why are you doing this, Dylan?”
He returned his phone to his pocket “I’m not sure, Grace. But it feels right.” With that, he smiled and walked off, calling behind him, “Drive safely.”
_________
Carson
I threw another log on the fire, watching as it jumped and sparked, forming shadows on the walls. I sat back down on the leather couch, lacing my fingers behind my head and leaning back. It was early morning, still dark out, and the temperature was near freezing.
I had always been an early riser, but after being in the military, it was a habit that was even more ingrained.
I had been snowboarding all day yesterday and my muscles were still a little sore. But God, I had missed it. And apparently it was just like riding a bike because after an hour or two, I felt all my skills return.
I felt a little bit guilty about enjoying something so much with everything Josh was going through, but Leland was right—there was nothing we could do right now except pace the floor. At least Josh was free of the cage they’d put him in and we knew for now, he was safe. This was a stress outlet for me and in the end, it would help Josh if we all were on our best mental game.