Page 13 of Cautious Love

“No, Mollie, I was wondering what Shiloh Sullivan told you about Grey.”

She sighs and brushes her hands over her apron. This diner may be set in the 50s, but the fact that they still wear those old waitress uniforms is kind of crazy to me. But then again, it fits the place well.

“Uh, well, she didn’t say much. She told me they broke up,” Mollie-Mae says.

“Did she tell you anything else?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “And did you hear or see anything when Shiloh was jumped about six or so hours ago?”

Mollie gasps, resting her hand over her heart. “Is she okay? Does she need anything? I know she keeps to herself for the most part, but I should check on her.”

“She’s at the emergency clinic. She had medical attention, but I need to know if you heard or saw anything.”

Mollie-Mae starts to tear up and pulls a tissue from her pocket to dab her eyes. “No, I didn’t, and I feel terrible. Is she going to be okay?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Thank God. I don’t know anything, sheriff, I’m sorry,” she says.

“That’s alright, thank you, Mollie.”

She nods and gives me a small smile.

Before I walk out the door, Jenkins calls for me and shoves a bag with a burger and fries into my hand. I didn’t want it, but I’m not going to just take it. I pull my wallet out to pay, and he waves his hands.

“No, no, on the house. Go catch the guy who hurt Shiloh,” he says a little too loudly.

I wince and thank him. If Shiloh didn’t want anyone to know what happened. They will now. Though I’m sure she won’t be surprised.

The little tidbit about Grey only serves to solidify what Tate and I assume happened. So I might as well pay him a visit. If he’s not at work at Jimmy’s, then I’ll try him at home.

It’s 4:40 pm and I’m sure they are wrapping up for the day. Most places around here, short of the food joints and bars, close at about five.

I go through one of the open garage doors looking for Grey, but I don’t spot him.

“Sheriff, what can I do for ya?” Jimmy asks.

“Hey Jimmy, I’m looking for Grey Kensington. Is he around?” I ask.

Jimmy makes a face and tosses his thumb over his shoulder. “He’s probably putting his tools away.”

I thank him and walk past him towards the back of the shop where all the guys keep their toolboxes. But as I look around and check in their break room, he’s nowhere to be found. I ask a few of the other employees, and they all shrug. “I think he went home early, sheriff,” Bob says.

“Thanks, Bob.”

He nods and I head back to my cruiser. Grey must have slipped past me, or I was too late. Either way, it’s fine. I’d like to see the house, if I can. It could provide evidence that will confirm what I know in my gut is true. There was never a gang of men that jumped Shiloh. It was her piece of shit boyfriend, that sounds like an ex now.

After I radio my location and destination to base, I head out to Grey Kensington’s property. I know it’s a double-wide on the east side of town about twenty minutes away. We’ve arrested Grey before. Shiloh has even bailed him out. He’s the son of Kensington Sr., and involved in the operation, but we could never get anything enough to stick to him. The DA for this county and the next said catching him on possession wasn’t enough and it definitely wouldn’t be enough to get to the Kensingtons as a whole, and we needed more. So we had to let him go.

I turn onto his street. Kids are home from school and playing outside. His truck is here, so maybe he is too.

Walking up the steps to the front door, I spot red splotches on the handrail. It doesn’t look fresh, as if he got home and was bleeding. But it doesn’t look old either.

My gut twists, and I knock on the door.

I hear a grumble and then footsteps before the door swings open. Before I address him, I swiftly scan my eyes over every area I can see, and it’s not much. “Grey,” I say, finally meeting his eyes.

He’s a little shorter than my six foot one, and his dark brown hair is shaved on the side, and a couple of tattoos on his arms. He’s strong, and I’m sure it took no effort to knock five-foot-nothing Shiloh around.