Golden Hour | Cole Stewart AU

The Best Laid Traps

COLE

After three goddamn hours of waiting, the steps outside the cabin finally creek, and I sit straighter. The door hisses open, bringing in a warm burst of air and an earthy scent of rain along with it.

Someone steps inside the cabin, their keys rattling with each step, followed by a sharp intake of breath. I don’t bother looking up. I know who it is.

The footsteps come to a stop. “Lost, are we?” The tone is friendly, bordering on cautious. But the voice is familiar. So familiar.

“You've got some hideout here,” I say, tossing the Rubik’s cube in the air and catching it just in time.

I had plenty of time to search this place while Redhead was out. Frost Daniels was living here. Nothing here suggested where he could be now or why he had come here. But he lived here and that was enough. That was more than enough.

“Who says we’re hiding?” Rose stands behind the bigger couch across from me, her palms resting on the headrest. Her eyes bounce from the journal near my foot to the half-open drawer before landing on me.

I lift the journal up. “Care to tell me what this place is?”

“It's a rental cabin.” She says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “Didn't you figure it out while snooping around?” She nods at the journal in my hand. “If you wanted a room, we'd have to run a background check on you which I don't think you'd clear.” She almost flashes me an apologetic smile but her grip on the couch tightens and her gaze travels to the journal again.

I lean forward until there are a few inches between us. “But Frost Daniels did? The same guy with a bounty on his head?”

“Look around us, Cole. Do you see Frost anywhere?” She leans back casually and motions around the room. “It’s just you and me, here.”

“You have a great poker face, I'm impressed.” I flip the journal open and stop at the most recent page. “But your security is shit. You'd think someone would do a better job at hiding. Maybe install a camera or two. Show's over, Rose.” I hold the journal up to the most recent page. Frost's initials are neatly written in the guest column. Her initials signing of each page. She ran this cabin or owned it.

This journal was crammed underneath all the newspapers and other trinkets. Clearly a shitty hiding place. Redhead's cheeks turn a shade of pink and she tugs the book towards herself. “How did you even find this place?”

“Mr. Frost made the mistake of signing into a long-dead blog and an almost pathetic attempt at covering up his location. Really, it was a walk in the park.” Nico broke through the defenses in hours. No sign of Frost anywhere but I did find this sweet little cabin.

“So you decided to add breaking and entering to your list of crimes?” She asks, completely unaffected by my words. “Could've waited outside.” She jerks a thumb at the door. 

“And give you another chance to come up with some bullshit story? Not again, Rose.” I say frankly. I've had enough of the lies. “Beats me why you’d go so far to cover this up.”

“Confidentiality is good for the business. Keeps people coming.” Rose nods in mock seriousness.

“Because people are just lining up to live here,” I deadpan.

“And here I thought you wanted a room,” She says in a wistful tone, making herself comfortable on the three-seater couch. She was responding much better than I thought she would. I’d expected her to put up a fight.

I came prepared either way. No fists this time.

“The backseat of my car is more comfortable than this couch.” I shift my legs on the table, accidentally knocking out a globe and it rolls away. Ignoring the globe, I close the drawer shut and the whole coffee table shakes.