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“Please, I’ll explain later.”
All right, what am I looking for?
“Someone who is looking at their phone like they’re reading a text,” I tell him, motioning to Sam that she should send the text. “Do you see anyone?”
Chapter 13
Etienne
“Little professor,” I stop short, suddenly realizing what my little girl is doing and growling into the phone. “Tell me you aren’t texting him.”
I’m not. Sam is on her phone.
“She’s doing what?” I demand, and Marcus’s head snaps in my direction.
Well, do you see anyone?
I find myself relenting and looking around the bar. The one potential suspect I had identified, Larry, is gorging himself on half-priced barbecue wings and licking his sticky fingers.
“What are they doing?” Marcus demands.
“They’re texting Violet’s stalker on Sam’s phone,” I tell him softly, and I watch as his head nearly explodes with outrage.
“What?” He whips his head around to glare at the table where the girls are sitting. We had heard their laughter earlier and assumed they were enjoying their Wednesday night.
Well?
“Only Tony,” I tell her softly.
Tony! Really?
Her voice's disbelief matches my surprise, especially since he’d seemed so weirded out by grown women coloring over cocktails.
“Is this the first time they’ve messaged?” Marcus asks, and I can tell he’s also holding himself back from going over to their table.
“Have you sent other messages tonight?”
Yes, but you said not to leave the table. And we can’t see much from here.
My anger softens slightly. Violet may be recklessly baiting her stalker, but she at least had the sense to stay where I could see her.
I nod to Marcus, who mutters softly, “No wonder he forgot our ketchup.” He slowly pushes back from his stool and stands. “I’m going to the restroom. I don’t want to know how you will confirm him as a possible suspect.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, giving him a wry grin. After he walks away, I say to Violet, “I can’t believe I’m asking, but can you girls send another text?”
Okay. Daddy needs us to send another text.
Lowering my head to look as if I’m trying to select a French fry off my plate, I surreptitiously watch Tony pulling a beer from a tap at the other end of the bar. Stopping the flow of liquid, he pulls his phone out of his back pocket. After reading the message with disgust, he shoves the phone back into his pocket.
“Fuck,” I breathe, not believing what I’m seeing. “I think it’s Tony. Marcus went to the restroom, so he wouldn’t be involved in possible harassment, but when he gets back, I’ll tell him. I’ll pay your tab. Pack up and get ready to leave.”
Leave? Really?
“Yes,” I say firmly, seeing Tony walking in my direction. “I’ll be over there in a few minutes.”
After hanging up with Marcus, I sit on the opposite end of the sofa. My little professor is curled up on the couch, watching a nature documentary. I grab the clicker from the coffee table, pause the movie, and gain her attention.
Once Marcus returned from the restroom, we informed him Tony was answering their texts. He got busy discovering everything he could about Tony while I took Violet home. Her friends stayed behind, despite Marcus trying to send them both home.
