Her voice broke as she stared forward at the Chief, “He took it from my closet and left it on the nightstand. He—touched it. Violated it. And he left it for me to find. To mess with me.”
My fists clenched so tight I thought my bones would snap. Rage burned through me like fire, but the chief’s eyes only hardened.
“When was this, Frankie?”
She swallowed and took a deep breath, and I hated how it made her shoulders shake. “A little over a month ago,” She cleared her throat, “The day that my brakes were cut.” She turned to look up at me with watery eyes, pleading with me. “I forgot at first after the crash. And then—” She shook her head slightly, “I didn’t want to believe that he was back, and I buried it. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I should have told you both, but I was so scared.”
“Shh,” I leaned forward, pressing my lips to her temple, sending a very pointed and crystal-clear message to Travis on her other side, where his anger was radiating so powerfully she was bound to think it was at her. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” She crumbled a little more. “If I had told you guys that he—you would have made me go to the police way back then. And maybe we could have stopped him before it got to this point. Before I was the guilty one!”
“Ms. Blake,” Chief Weller interrupted her, “I believe you. But that means that Danny has been inside your home. And if he’s been inside once, odds are he’s been there more than you realize.”
Travis turned to the man, eyebrows pinched in anger, “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” Weller replied, taking a deep breath, “I want to walk through your old rental next door. Yesterday, Ms. Blake, you said you still have belongings there, that you haven’t moved out completely yet. You said there was still furniture and otherthings there. I believe that if he was bold enough to leave his DNA evidence on something, he may have been bold enough to leave more than just that behind.”
We didn’t waste any time, moving as one, all of us walked down the driveway to the rental next door that we hadn’t made the time to clean out yet. When we moved in together over a month ago, we packed clothes and the kids' special toys but left everything else. We had three households worth of furniture, and nothing Frankie had in the rental was anything she wanted to bring with her. The cabin was a fresh start for all of us.
Our black cat trembled the whole way over to the house, sandwiched between us. No matter how tight I held her, or how reassuring Travis was with his words and affirmations, she couldn’t stop shaking.
The moment we stepped through the front door of the rental we had fixed up for her, I could tell he had been there after all. It didn’t feel warm and inviting like it had when she lived there with the kids, the air now felt wrong.
Cold.
Violated.
We stood off to the side, watching the Sheriff walk around and look at things as if he was looking for something. But none of us had any clue what he was hunting for.
Until he found it.
Under the television.
A small pinhole camera, tucked under the light bar for the screen, pointed right at the couch. Then another one in Frankie’s bedroom aimed directly at her bed.
Frankie crumpled, hand over her mouth as she realized how violated she had been. Trav caught her before she hit the ground, but the damage was done.
Weller cursed under her breath, ripping them both free and shoving them in an evidence bag. “Jesus, Frankie, he’s been watching you. For God knows how long.”
The bile rose hot in my throat, but underneath it, something else stirred. Something that felt like hope. It wasn’t just Frankie’s word against Danny’s anymore. There was the proof she needed to confirm everything we’d been screaming into the void.
“Now what?” I barked as I mentally replayed every single conversation, every touch, every moment of passion that we shared in the fucking house, angry that we ever exposed Frankie to them under the watchful, sadistic eye of her ex.
As Weller snapped the bag shut and handed it off to an evidence tech as we all watched. Behind the weathered and professional mask he wore as he did his job, I could see the anger on the man’s face. I respected him as Sheriff and worked several cases with him during my time in the fire department. And I hoped that this would help me regain some of the respect I lost in him, watching him stand by as someone destroyed the woman I loved.
“This isn’t just harassment anymore,” He said, “This is stalking. This is criminal. This is dangerous.” He glanced at Frankie, his voice softening but firm. “And it’s enough to open doors that your claims against him alone couldn’t.”
Frankie clutched Travis’s sleeve, her eyes glassy and hollow, “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Weller said, “I’ll be updating DCFS with this evidence. They need to know you’re not the problem—you’re the victim of a predator. It changes everything.”
Frankie’s breath hitched, a sob choking her throat, but she pressed her lips together to smother it before asking the question we all wanted to. “Does this mean I get my kids back?”
The chief shifted, squaring his shoulders, “By the end of the night, you’ll all be under the same roof. I just need some time to get the paperwork squared away.” He said, and Frankie sagged into us with relief. “I’m also calling Danny in for questioning. We’ll get him in a room, put pressure on him, see how his story holds up against the cameras we found. If he’s stupid, he’ll slip. If he’s careful, we’ll keep tightening the noose until he cracks.”
Travis’s voice rumbled low beside me. “And in the meantime?”
Weller turned back, his gaze steady. “In the meantime, you live your life. You go to work. You keep your head high and let the people who know you see that you’re not hiding. That’s the best thing you can do—for yourself and for your case. The news will break soon enough that you’re the victim in all of this.”
