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“I think we should tell the police before we leave. They gave you a card, right?”
“Yes. I’ll call them, but they’ll think I’m being paranoid.” I take pajamas and clothes from other drawers and add them to the suitcase. “Three days’ worth should be more than enough.”
“You’ll need more than three days, because I don’t want you back here until we know if that guy is stalking you. Everleigh won’t be okay with it either.”
“Then don’t tell her.”
“This is your safety, Sadie. I’m not fucking with that. You, of all people, shouldn’t either. Where is the over-concerned, over-protective, adorably cute woman I met a year ago? She never would have been blasé about this.”
I jut a hip. “I’m not blasé. My mind is twisted. I’m still in disbelief.”
“Then I will be over paranoid for both of us. You’re staying until we find out who this man is and if he’s random or a stalker.” He takes his phone from his pocket and types something.
“How long will that take? The police don’t even think they can find the guy. They don’t have a description.”
“They don’t have a personal PI, former CIA agent, either.” He types on his phone.
“He’s ex-CIA?” No wonder he was able to learn everything about what happened between Benedict and Everleigh when Daire hired him.
He nods and continues typing on his phone.
“What are you doing?” And why am I annoyed?
“I’m texting him so he can get started.”
“Oh. Thanks.” When Easton wants to get things done, he does it. I’m not sure he even knows this about himself, but he doesn’t slack when given a task. It’s why I rope him into so many projects with me. He’s reliable that way.
I take a moment to admire his golden-brown hair and how it falls over his face, shielding his eyes as he texts, and the bulge of his biceps and the tanned skin covering his Adonis body.
If only he were reliable in other ways. But then, guys who look like Easton aren’t meant to settle for one woman. Daire did, my brain argues.
I maneuver around Easton’s big form, collecting more things, but he always seems to be in the way. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable doing that in the living room?”
“Is this your polite way of kicking me out?”
I shrug.
He walks to the door.
“Oh! And can you pack up food for Detective Pickles? He’s coming, too.”
“He is?” Easton looks like the idea is absurd.
“I can’t leave him here alone.” I give him my back and continue packing. “He can’t feed himself.”
“A hamster on a helicopter,” he murmurs. “This should be interesting.”
He leaves the room before I can explain we won’t be traveling the way he thinks.
Chapter 7
Sadie
After a brief conversation with my groggy mom, where I reassured her five times that I’m okay and to stay in Greece, I finally finished packing. I have stuff for two weeks, with a little extra because I always pack extra, just in case.
Reva, my middle-aged neighbor and fellow plant lover, said she’d water my plants and sing to them to make sure they stay happy while I’m gone. I don’t sing to my plants. I talk to them, though. They’re great listeners.
Reva and I are on the landscaping committee for the condominium homeowner’s association. One of the reasons I chose this place is for the lush courtyard. It’s an oasis in the city. I also chose it for the gated entrance, security guard and cameras, and the underground parking. I can open my curtains and enjoy the trees and plants outside without worrying about being spied on by strangers. The thought makes me shiver, even more now after what happened. The more I think about it, the more I’m certain I’ve seen that man before.
