At two fifteen, Rhea calls.
"Highway camera caught the white pickup turning onto the county road that leads to Grizzly Ridge Valley. He's thirty minutes out."
Logan, who has been on the porch making calls, comes inside. His expression is the one I saw briefly in the car. Pure operator.
"Sawyer has deputies positioned at both valley entrances. Dan's got visual on the north approach. Nash reported a white pickup passing his property three minutes ago heading toward town. He got a plate number. It matches."
Garrett is here. In the valley. Thirty minutes from where I'm sitting.
My phone buzzes. A new email from the anonymous address.
Small towns are beautiful. I can see why you'd want to write about one. I've always said you have excellent taste.
He's here. He knows I'm here. And he's letting me know.
I show the email to Logan. His jaw tightens.
"That's enough," he says. "That email, combined with the documented pattern of surveillance, the flight to Colorado, and the physical proximity, gives Sawyer probable cause for a stop."
"Can Sawyer arrest him?"
"He can stop the vehicle and question him. If Hollis does anything, says anything, that constitutes a direct threat or violates any local or state statute, Sawyer takes him in. If he's smart enough to stay in the gray area, we document everything and push for a restraining order."
"He'll stay in the gray area. That's what he does. He's been doing it for four months."
"Then we make the gray area very uncomfortable for him."
At two forty-five, Sawyer's voice comes through Logan's radio. "I've got the white pickup on Main Street. Driver is parked in front of Maggie's. Single male occupant matching the description. He's sitting in the vehicle."
Sitting. Watching. Just like the emails. Present but passive. Close but never quite crossing the line.
I stand up. Erica looks at me.
"I need to go down there," I say.
"Absolutely not." Logan doesn't look up from the map he's studying.
"Logan. He's here because of me. He followed me across the country because I published an Instagram story and he connected the dots. If I hide in this cabin, he'll keep circling. He'll keep watching. He'll come back tomorrow and the next day and the day after that, because that's what he does. He doesn't stop until he gets what he wants."
"And what does he want?"
"To see me. To remind me that no matter where I go, he can find me. To prove that I can't outrun him."
I grab my jacket. "So I stop running."
Erica stands. She crosses the kitchen and puts her hands on my shoulders and looks me dead in the eyes.
"I was in your exact position two years ago," she says. "A man tracked me across the country. He shot me. He nearly killed the people I love. And the thing that ended it wasn't hiding. It was standing up with the people who had my back and refusing to be moved."
She squeezes my shoulders. "Go. But you don't go alone."
Logan drives. I sit in the passenger seat and watch the town approach through the windshield. Main Street is quiet, mid-afternoon on a weekday, but I can see the white pickup parked in front of Maggie's Diner. The driver's side window is down.
My heart is in my throat. My hands are steady.
We park across the street. Logan kills the engine. "I'll be right here. Sawyer's two doors down in the Town Council building. Dan is on the north end of Main Street. You are not alone."
I nod. Open the door. Step out onto the sidewalk.
