Page 85 of Direct Action

The phone through the speakers then went to voicemail.

“Call Pete.”

Chloe disconnected, and a few seconds later the phone was ringing again.

“Yo, what’s—”

“Is there any mention of a Dex in any of the files?”

“No.”

“No variations?” I asked. “Dexter? Dex—”

“Nothing. Why?”

I quickly ran down what Chloe had told me.

“And Poppy’s sure she’d never seen this guy?” Pete asked.

Chloe reached over the center console and wrapped her fingers over my thigh. I wanted to say her touch relaxed me, but it absolutely did not.

“She didn’t get a good look at him, so no, she’s not sure.”

“Aiden was there tonight. We’ll run all the plates in the morning and find out who he is. Chloe, what’s your take on this guy?”

I felt her hand twitch.

After a few long beats of silence, I prompted, “Babe?”

When she still didn’t answer, I called out again, “Chloe?”

“I don’t want to answer,” she whispered.

Chloe was perceptive, she had a clear read on this guy and didn’t want to say because she knew my reaction would be violent. Which said all I needed to know.

“I want this fucker found by morning.”

“We’ll have a name.”

I reached out, tapped the red button on the truck’s screen to end the call, and took a deep breath. After four more, my chest still burned but I didn’t feel like I was breathing fire anymore.

“Is that all he said?”

“Yes.”

Her.

That was cryptic as fuck.

Yet it wasn’t.

“What about him freaked you?”

Her hand once again flexed on my thigh.

“His eyes. They were . . . dead.”

Fuck.