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Colt drove away from Bart’s house, a million thoughts running through his mind. Could a man he’d known since kindergarten really be party to kidnapping a federal agent and trying to kill him and Jadyn? Had he completely lost his ability to spot when something was wrong? Or was he simply too close to the people involved, and emotion and history were overshadowing his instincts?
He glanced over at Jadyn and clenched the steering wheel. Speaking of involvement—what the hell had he been thinking, kissing her the way he did in Bart’s camp? Granted, it was an emotionally charged situation, and people had been known to do things outside of their character when subjected to that level of stress, but he knew that was bull.
The bottom line was that his attraction to Jadyn St. James hadn’t lessened one bit since his self-imposed distancing. If anything, he was more drawn to her. She seemed to occupy his thoughts more the less time he spent with her. And after the kiss in Bart’s camp, he knew he’d crossed a line he couldn’t retreat from.
He stared down the road and blew out a breath. When all of this was over, he needed to do some serious thinking about his future, especially when it came to relationships. Because pretending that he wasn’t interested in Jadyn wasn’t going to work. So either he put himself out there again—risked being hurt in the hopes that this time would be different from the last—or he spent the rest of his life wondering what might have been.
His cell phone ringing brought him out of his thoughts. “It’s Deputy Nelson,” he said as he answered.
“I think you need to get over to the channel,” Deputy Nelson said.
“You having problems getting the cars out?”
“No, sir. The road runs close by and there’s a nice slope. We’ve got three out already and it looks like there’s another one down there, but we might need a diver to get it hooked up.”
“Sounds good. Then what’s the problem?”
“Well, the first car was Old Man Humphrey’s, like you thought. The other two didn’t have plates but I had Shirley check the VIN numbers.”
“And?”
“The other two cars were stolen as well. And it looks like they’ve been stripped down.”
Colt gripped his cell phone. “I’m only a couple minutes away,” he said, then disconnected.
“What’s wrong?” Jadyn asked.
Colt told her what Deputy Nelson had found, and a couple minutes later, they pulled up at the channel. Deputy Nelson waved them over to the cars, looking relieved to see them.
“We know one more is down there,” Deputy Nelson said, “but we couldn’t hook it. I’ll call a diver.” He waved at the cars. “I don’t know what to make of this.”
Colt walked around the cars, studying them. The interiors had been stripped, the tires and hubcaps removed, the hoods, trunks, doors, and engines, all gone. “I know exactly what to make of it. Someone is running a chop shop and this is their dumping ground. Maybe one of many, for all we know.”
Deputy Nelson stared. “A chop shop? In Mudbug?”
“Someone who knows the area well enough to pick a good dumping site. No one fishes this channel since the hurricane shifted the banks. Only someone who fishes here regularly would know which channels are traveled and which aren’t.”
Deputy Nelson’s jaw dropped. “I just can’t imagine…”
“Lately, there’s a lot of things going on in this town I couldn’t have imagined before.”
“I guess you’re right, but man…what do you want me to do about the cars?”
“Haul them into town and ask Marty to store them at his garage. Tell him no access and to keep this quiet. The last thing I need is the FBI confiscating these cars and exposing our dirty laundry.”
Deputy Nelson swallowed and nodded.
“Do you have the names of the other two car owners?”
Deputy Nelson pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Colt. “That’s the name, address, and phone number for all of them—at least, what’s on file with the state.”
“I’ve got to check on some things. See if you can get a diver for that last car, but don’t wait on it to start hauling them to town. Call Marty and get him to start moving them to the garage. Tell him to take the back roads in and cover the cars with tarps.”
“Yes, sir.”
As they started back to his truck, Colt handed Jadyn the paper with the names. “Notice whose name is on there? I think we should pay Mr. Pickett a visit. See what he or the police might know about his stolen car.”
They climbed into Colt’s truck and Jadyn looked over at him as he started the engine.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said.
“What about?”
“About how Tyler was ribbing Bart about not working, but Bart said he turned off his cell phone because he had work to do and didn’t want to be interrupted. He’s got that big shop and that enclosed trailer…wouldn’t a master welder be able to easily parcel out a car?”
Colt froze and stared out the windshield. He’d been so busy thinking about how the stolen cars tied into Raissa’s abduction that he hadn’t spent any time trying to pinpoint who was running the chop shop. But what Jadyn said made sense. Perfect sense.
He slammed his hand on the steering wheel and cursed. How many more criminals were living right under his nose?
“We should check out his shop on the way back,” she said. “Given those cars are dumped in the game preserve, I have probable cause to search. No waiting on a warrant.”
Colt put the truck in gear and pulled away. “Which means no alerting anyone else as to what we’re doing.”
“Exactly. And if we hurry, we may be able to get it done before Ross arrives.” She pulled her pistol from her holster and checked the magazine. “I hope he doesn’t give us any trouble.”
Colt nodded. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of shooting someone he’d known his entire life. But if it was Bart who’d shot at them the night before and had a hand in kidnapping Raissa, then he wouldn’t hesitate to do his job. There was plenty of time later for mourning the loss of his childhood home.