“Yeah, all broody and blank, not giving away anything.”
He couldn’t fight the chuckle that escaped him, regardless that he could all but taste the tension between them. “I’m not exactly sure if that’s a good thing or bad, but we’ve found the perpe
trator in your case.”
“That fucker,” Amelia snapped.
Hayes nodded at her. “That about sums it up, but I’ve got good news too. We’ve found all your equipment.”
Maisie gaped. “The stuff from the festival?”
“Yeah, we found it all.”
Clara beamed. “That is great news. Thank you so much.”
He inclined his head, gesturing for them to follow. “It surprised the shit out of me too,” he said, leading them down the hallway. “But in the chop-shop they worked out of, we found it all there. The jockey box, the sign, the bottle openers, and buttons. Kegs were empty though.”
“Guess they’re fans of our beer, huh?” Maisie joked.
Hayes smiled at her. “Seems like it.”
He pushed open the door at the end of the hallway and Maisie gasped. “Wow, you weren’t lying.” She scanned the area from left to right, her gaze touching on all the things she thought she’d lost. “It’s all here. I thought it was all burned.”
That relief on her face drew him in deep. He became desperate to pull her close. To inhale her scent, which always told him everything was going to be okay. But where would that get them? Him leaning on her, depending on her, when she needed the exact opposite.
Last night, he’d made a promise to himself. Fix everything. One step then another. No more winging life. Clara had been spot on, and those words shook him to his core. Maisie deserved to be loved in the way she loved others. Just when that thought clawed at him, he forced his thoughts to clear, staying focused on the current task. “From what the suspect said,” Hayes said to the sisters, “they removed anything of value from the trailer. The tires, engine, stuff like that. Then they burned what they didn’t need and tried to obscure the VIN and fingerprints before they took it to a junkyard.”
“Well, it worked,” Clara pointed out.
Hayes nodded and tucked his free hand in his pocket, sipping his coffee. When the bitter brew hit his tongue, he swallowed quickly then asked no one in particular, “Do you want to see him?”
All eyes went to Clara. She shook her head adamantly. “I don’t.”
“Me neither,” Amelia said, scrunching her nose.
Not unexpectedly, Maisie said, “I’d like to.”
Hayes nodded to her and then said to Amelia and Clara, “Feel free to start putting this stuff in your car. Whatever doesn’t fit, I can take home in my truck. We won’t be long.”
“Sounds good,” Clara said. “And thanks, Hayes, for everything.”
She still held a question in her gaze. One he didn’t blame her for one bit. She was protecting her baby sister. Hayes simply inclined his head in acknowledgment, and Clara began to gather the boxes.
“Just this way,” Hayes said, settling his hand low on Maisie’s back and guiding her toward the door.
Down another hallway and through a door on the right, she stopped in front of a one-way mirror. “That’s him?” Maisie said, examining the lanky teenager through the window.
Hayes shut the door tight, then sidled next to her. “Yup.”
“He looks so young,” she said, staring at the kid sitting at the metal table, shaking in his boots. “How old is he?”
“He’s seventeen.”
Maisie’s concerned eyes came to Hayes. “Jeez, he’s just a kid. How did you find him?”
“We caught him on the security footage.”
“We or you?” Maisie asked.