Untraceable (28 page)

He probes further like he knows something is up. “Not really your style to stay out that late by yourself, is it?”

I suddenly feel like I’m under a spotlight, and everything I’m hiding inside is glaring. Leaning back, I put my feet up on the coffee table, trying to appear casual. “Didn’t know I had to check in with everyone. The rules around here change as much as Joan River’s face.”

“That was bad.” He moves next to me on the couch. “So you’re not going to tell me either?”

I rub my hands across my pants. “Nothing to tell. I was out searching for more clues and decided to camp out.”

Wyn scoots down to get more comfortable, but his face is still tense. “And? Find anything?”

“Actually, a lot. Nothing makes much sense, but I have a theory forming.”

He sits back with his hands behind his head and stares at the ceiling. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

“You sure?”

“I’m all yours.”

I stand and pace, playing with my hair as I talk. “I found an article about Al. Evidently, he got nabbed for hunting in Tennessee. Got off on a technicality though. He probably came down here and started killing bears. I’m guessing Dad caught him and tried to bust him. Obviously, Al didn’t want to go to jail so he must have kidnapped my dad and hid him somewhere.” I slump back down next to him. “What do you think?”

He thinks for a moment. “I guess it sounds plausible.”

“Nothing else makes sense. I just need to find enough evidence to keep them behind bars so we can get them to crack and tell me where they’re keeping Dad.”

Wyn shakes his head. “Crack them? Wow, you are watching too much TV.”

Ignoring his comment, I think out loud. “Wonder if Carl tested the bag yet. Maybe it has new evidence to hold them.”

Wyn rolls his hands together and watches the clock. “You know Captain. If he did, he wouldn’t tell me.”

I prop my feet up on the table and lean back, mimicking Wyn’s posture. “I went over to Mama Sue’s yesterday. She’s trying to help me nail down the boot treads. Still hasn’t called though.” I crumple up the Cheetos bag and chuck it into the trash can. “Two points!” When I face Wyn, he’s staring at me with a funny look on his face. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that? You think I’m missing something?”

Wyn shifts in his seat and inches closer. Then, without warning, he leans in and parks his lips on mine.

It happens so fast, I melt into him before I realize I’m kissing him back. Hard. His breath echoes in my ears, and he tastes minty and fresh. His kiss isn’t electric like Mo’s but it’s gentle and familiar. Comparing the two kisses brings me back to my senses. I place my hands on Wyn’s chest and gently push him away. “Wyn, wait.”

He looks half surprised and half hurt, but keeps staring at my lips when he talks. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry.” I whisper back, hoping a lower volume will lighten the blow. “But I can’t do this. To you. I mean, us. It’s not fair.” I drop my head down. How could I do this. Kiss two guys in the same day. I’m disgusting.

“Why don’t you let me think for both of us?” He cups both hands around my neck and pushes my chin up with his thumbs, drawing me in again. His lips find mine, and I briefly surrender. Again. It feels so nice to be wanted, to be with Wyn like this, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s because of how it used to make me feel. That is, it takes me back to when everything was okay and Dad was safe. When I didn’t have anything to worry about.

I’m not that girl anymore.

Wyn weaves his fingers into my hair and holds my hand with the other. For a minute, I feel like I’m suspended under water, floating. Not resisting but not giving in. As I rise to the surface, I realize that maybe something is missing between us. Something small I never knew was there; yet somehow, it has become significant enough for me to finally notice.

With Mo, everything is different. Like a huge firecracker exploded in my heart. With Wyn, it’s more of a sparkler fizzing inside before extinguishing too quickly, leaving darkness until the next sparkler is fired up. Thinking of Mo makes me feel awful. I’m a total cheater.

My eyes spring open, and I jerk back. Further this time, to a safe distance. That way, the burning embers still smoking between us can’t touch me. “Wyn, I’m serious.”

In defeat, he slouches back. “Too serious, if you ask me.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

He studies me as if probing my thoughts before attempting to speak. “Grace … I … came … here …”

I hold up my hand, stopping him before he finishes. “Wyn, wait. Don’t say anything. The last time we were together, it almost cost us our friendship.”

He slides a bit closer. “Maybe I don’t want
just
a friendship anymore.”
 

“Don’t say that.” I shift a little, trying to get comfortable. Not knowing what to say. I don’t want to hurt Wyn, but I can’t lead him on either. My life is complicated enough without this on top of it. “Come on. What about Skyler?”

Wyn rubs his chin. “What about her?” He bends forward again, teasing me. “She knows I’m still into you.”

I scoot back on the couch in a full retreat. “Please, don’t do this. You’re my best friend. I don’t want to mess this up. We broke up, and we both moved on. Let’s not go back and try to replay this differently.”

He sighs and gets up. “I wish you would’ve told me this sooner before I made an ass out of myself. I thought maybe you wanted me back. To try again. You said you needed me.”

I’m stunned. Almost unable to talk. Not sure what to say to make this all better. “I did, I mean, I do need you. As a friend.”

Wyn points to where we were kissing on the couch. “That did not feel like friends. There is still something there.”

I drop my face into my hands. “I’m just confused. I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Wyn strokes my hair. “We’ll be fine as long as you’re honest with me.”

I take in a deep breath, wondering if I should drop my love bomb. Wyn still doesn’t know about Mo, and there never seems to be a good time to tell him. Then again, maybe I’m afraid it’ll change everything between us. Am I ready for that? I’ve lost Dad, and what if I lose Wyn again? The last few weeks have been better because we’re talking again. What if I can’t find Dad without Wyn? I stare at my annihilated fingernails and notice there’s nothing left to gnaw.

He clears his throat. “Why are you so quiet? Is there something you want to tell me?”

I nibble on a frayed cuticle and shake my head. My legs pump up and down. A confession hangs off the edge of my tongue. To tell or not to tell, that is the question. “Maybe there is something.”

Ready to come clean, I look up, but notice Wyn isn’t listening to me anymore. He’s too busy studying something on my computer screen. A confused look washes over his face and he points to the laptop. “What’s this?”

It takes me a moment to realize what he’s reading. “Hey! That’s private!” I leap forward and try to snatch the computer off the table.

He shoots to his feet and holds the laptop high in the air, out of my reach. “You studying to be a marksman or something?”

I bounce up and down like a basketball player blocking a three-pointer. “It’s research.”

“Hunting rifles and huge bullets? Is there a rabid elephant loose in the area I don’t know about?”

I stop hopping. “Why do you care about my Internet surfing habits? I mean it’s none of your business what I do anyway. Not that I’m
doing
anything.”

He hands me the computer. “Ah ha! Defensiveness equals guilt.”

I shut the lid and set it on the kitchen counter. “Nosiness equals rude.”

He narrows his eyes and rubs his chin. “You’re acting suspicious. And don’t deny it because I’ve known you and your antics all your life. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.” I stop. “Fine. I found a bullet.”

He remains silent for a few minutes, as his brains works to process everything. “Where?”

“In the woods.” No need to mention Mo. I’m not going to lie, just can’t tell him the whole truth.

Wyn cocks his head. “So what? You think the bullet belongs to that guy from the store?”

“Al? Yup.”

Wyn shrugs. “Well, then let’s take the bullet to Carl. He can check for prints.”

I wrinkle my face. “Um, we can’t. I didn’t know what it was when I grabbed it so my prints are all over it.”

He slaps his forehead. “G, what were you thinking? You don’t seem to be all here these days. It’s like you’re a different person. You’ve lost your edge. Forgotten everything you know.”

I dip my head to one side and purse my lips together. “Come on, Wyn, cut me a break.”

His face softens. “All right. All right. Let me see it.”

I rub my eyes. “See what?”

“What else? The bullet, ding dong.”

I retrieve the casing from my jean pocket and place it in his hands. “Here. It’s not gonna help though. I already looked online and combed through Dad’s books. They all look the same. Probably from a standard hunting gun.”

Wyn holds it up to the lamp and inspects it before blurting out, “Holy shit.”

I glance over his shoulder. “What is it?”

Wyn points to a ridge that runs down both sides of the cylinder. “Dum dum.”

I flick the back of his head. “Dude, stop with the ding dong and dum dum crap.”

Wyn thumps my forehead back. “Not
you
, silly. That’s what this is called. A dum dum.”

“What do you mean?”

He faces me, still pinching the bullet between his pointer fingers. “It means this isn’t really a standard .308. These dudes are making their own bullets in the woods. They’re serious about this, and they don’t want to get caught.”

“How do you know?”

“Captain’s talked about these types of bullets before. I think he caught someone using them a while back. One-Stoppers. At least, that’s what he calls them. Here, I’ll show you. Give me your knife.” I hand him my pink Swiss Army knife, and he jams it into the seam. After jiggling the end, the bullet pops open. A couple small steel balls roll across the table. “See. These guys are loading bullets with ball bearings. The bears don’t have a shot in hell.”

I pick up one of the little balls and roll it around in my palm. “What does it do?”

“The bullet expands on impact, making the hole much bigger. Guarantees a kill, and the bullet is completely untraceable. Wonder why they’re using these? Not really standard for your average jerk hunting off season.”

My eyes widen as another puzzle piece falls into place. “When I was in Dad’s office earlier, there were some articles about bear poaching. Talked about hunters selling bear parts—gall bladders and paws—for a ton of money overseas.”

“What about the bear at the Station 19? Was he cut up?”

I picture Simon lying on the ground. “No, he was intact. Nothing seemed to be missing. From what I saw, it was a thrill kill.”

Wyn whistles. “Well, if anyone is poaching and selling bear parts, it’s more serious than we thought. It’s a federal offense. We gotta tell Captain.”

I plead with him. “Wait. Not yet. I need your help first.”

He shakes his head and frowns. “Noooo way. I know that look. Your idea of help is either a felony or a hike up Mount Kilimanjaro.” I stare at him, pleading with my eyes. His face softens, and he pokes the dimple in my chin. “Damn it! I hate that I can’t say no to you.”

I grin. “No, you don’t.”

“You don’t deserve me.” He releases an exasperated growl before answering. “What do you want me to do this time?”

“I need to get on Carl’s computer.”

“You’re nuts!” His voice has a pinch of panic mixed with dash of anger. He pushes me aside and hops to his feet, pacing the room like a caged animal.

I grab his arm and get him to look at me. “Hear me out first. I saw a note in my dad’s case file that Carl found a bullet shell. If I can see a picture of it, maybe it’ll match this one.”