“You give anyone a reason to report you missing before you left Denver?” His voice rumbled like distant thunder and his drawl was so thick and low that I really had to listen to understand him.

I shook my head vehemently no as Church swore. “I pissed off a drug dealer before I blew out of town. Could be payback for that. Got some looks outside Kansas City and some more once we hit the Mississippi state line. Could be that.” He tensed up and practically growled at the man standing stoically next to us. “You know how it goes.” He sounded pissed and his words made the man he didn’t refer to as Dad look angry.

“I do know how it goes, son.” It sounded like it didn’t go well for either of them in the past.

“Someone locked Dixie in the bathroom at a truck stop the first night. They jammed a pipe in the door and she was stuck there while I helped some guy out with his radiator. Someone also tried to run us off the road the first night. I’m thinking none of that was coincidental now.”

“You got a description of the guy?”

Church shook his head. “No, sir. I can’t tell you what kind of car he drove or what he looked like. I can tell you all of Acosta’s guys are Hispanic.”

“Acosta, the drug dealer?” It was so formal, so regimented. I couldn’t believe neither man was an emotional mess after spending so many years apart. There were no hugs exchanged, not even a friendly handshake. It was all facts and information exchanged in clipped sentences. It was almost painful to watch.

“Yep. He’s tangled up in federal court right now, but he’s got a dirty lawyer that I wouldn’t be surprised to learn is helping him run things from behind bars.”

The cop switched his attention to me and his lips lifted in a half grin. Dear Lord, if Church ever let go of all that history and horror that made it impossible for him to smile he would be devastating. He was already the prettiest man I had ever seen, and if he ever got to the point where he could comfortably flash his pearly whites my heart wouldn’t be able to take it … and I was pretty sure my vagina would spontaneously combust.

“You see the car that tried to run you off the road, Curly Sue?” I couldn’t hold back the giggle at the nickname. When Church called me “pretty girl” it made me feel all kinds of hot and bothered. The “Curly Sue” from his dad made me feel welcomed and enfolded in the warmth of a family that was missing a piece. I didn’t have anything to do with bringing the prodigal son home, but the cute nickname and the lazy smile that showed all of his strong white teeth made me feel like I was the key to putting all the fragments back together.

“No, I didn’t see anything, but I wasn’t paying attention because I was too busy watching my life flash before my eyes.”

He nodded and put his sunglasses back on. “It’s been my experience that most drug dealers tend to be more in-your-face with their retaliation, but this guy might be more subtle if he’s looking at federal charges. Not sure what’s going on and it’s going to be a paperwork nightmare to get the alert pulled on you two, so I would keep an eye out for anything else that seems out of sorts. Pretty easy to spot the things that don’t belong in a small town.”

Church snorted. “One of these things is not like the other.”

The cop frowned and shook his head. “You’ve been gone a long time, son. Things change. The boy you were may have struggled here, that doesn’t mean the man you are now can’t find his place.”

“Not sure my place is here, Jules.” I saw the admission hit the older man like it was a bullet fired from a gun. Julian Churchill had been waiting for his son to settle for a long time, and the fact Church couldn’t see that made me want to smack him upside his helmeted head.

“As long as you find a bit of peace when you find that place I don’t care where it’s at. I’ve got to get back to the station and try and untangle this missing-persons mess. You headed to the house?” He said it like it was a given that Church and I would be staying at his childhood home. I saw Church start to shake his head no, and I decided it was enough.

“We’re going to the hospital to see Elma Mae first, but when visiting hours are over we’ll be there. Church mentioned that you live close to her, so we can stay there and help her out once she gets back home. It’ll be great.” I purposely ignored the daggers that I was sure Church was throwing at me with his eyes behind the lenses of his sunglasses. I could see his big body lock with tension and refusal. His dad must have picked up on it, too, because before Church could offer up a suggestion that didn’t have us under his father’s roof the cop mentioned that he would call his other boy and make sure that he had the place tidied up. He excused himself in a rush and turned and walked back to his cruiser.

Church’s jaw clenched and a muscle in his cheek twitched. “I was planning on getting us a couple of rooms in town.”

“You haven’t seen your family in ten years. It’s obvious that your dad wants time with you, and I think we both know you need the time with him and your brother. It won’t kill you to stay with him until you figure out where you want to be.” I sounded like I was scolding a child, but frankly he was kind of acting like a toddler that had skipped nap time. I could understand him wanting to take it slow while he salvaged the remnants of the bridges he had burned, but the pace he seemed to be moving at rivaled a snail for speed.

“Jules’s place isn’t very big. There isn’t an extra room for guests. That means you and I are going to be in close quarters until you go home.” The way his twang made the word “close” sound had heat rising into my face and made me tug at the collar of my shirt.