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“I also noticed someone painted over the graffiti, and I really appreciate it.”
“Somebody has a lot of flexibility in his schedule right now.”
“Did you…?” She trailed off and he sensed the war going on in her head again.
“Did I what?”
“Did you talk to your father about last night, by any chance?”
The question surprised him. He wasn’t sure why she asked, but he didn’t need a map to know he was walking into a minefield. Still, in he went, because that’s where she wanted to go.
“No. I drove to the house last night to talk to him, or Justin, or both, but Brandi was the only one home. I asked her to tell Tom to call me, but that’s about as effective as asking a housecat to relay a message. I was in Cincinnati all day today, so I’ve been out-of-pocket.”
“Oh.” Her single-word response didn’t give away much, but she rolled her shoulders and tipped her head to one side.
“Why do you ask?”
She tipped her head to the other side, working out some invisible kink, and he imagined his hand there, at the base of her neck, slowly massaging the stiffness from her muscles. Then she sighed and said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. What goes on between you and your father is none of my business, and I don’t intend to make what goes on between me and him any of your business.”
“Of course not. What went on between you and Tom?”
That earned him a quick laugh. “I just told you, it’s none of your business.”
“I’m a highly trained combat specialist. I have ways of making you talk.”
“Ha. I’ll bet you do. But your ways are not going to work on me. I made a pact with myself to be more circumspect, especially after last night. I shouldn’t have told Crocker Justin spray-painted my wall when I had no proof.”
He agreed, but simply shrugged rather than second the conclusion. “You think he did it.”
“I know he did it, but making an accusation against Justin, under the circumstances, amounts to making an accusation against Tom, and stuff like that could come back and bite me if I can’t prove it. I’m also sorry for putting you in an awkward position last night. Justin’s your brother—”
“You didn’t put me in any kind of position.” He interrupted her to make the point because this was the second “sorry” to come out of her mouth for something she had no reason to feel sorry about. “If I’d been able to identify the guy, I would have done so, regardless of whether it was Justin or Moses or God himself. I don’t know who it was, but if he does an encore, we’re going to nail his ass.” He held up her phone. “You ready to see how?”
She nodded and took it from him.
He walked her through the app. When he finished, he stepped outside and tested the camera, which served as a half-decent test of the night-vision capabilities thanks to the premature darkness from the incoming storm. Everything worked. They both received the alert. She accessed the video on her phone and whistled at the resolution.
“This is light years ahead of the grainy convenience store videos you see on the news every once in a while. Why doesn’t everybody have these?”
His silence brought her head up. She searched his face. “Exactly how big was this favor your friend owed you?”
“Bigger than a convenience store security camera.”
She drew in a deep breath. He watched the sleeve of her pink shirt slide down her arm again. His hand twitched with an impulse to reach out and brush the thin strap of the white top off her shoulder as well.
“I noticed two cameras in your bag of tricks.”
He forced his gaze back to her face, and kept his expression deliberately neutral, because he didn’t want her realizing the calling card her unknown artist had left last night bothered him more than cruder messages might have. It struck him as targeted, and personal, and not necessarily the work of a spoiled teen with a chip on his shoulder and a warped sense of family loyalty. “I thought you might want one for your house. Invite me over and I’ll install it for you.”
Her eyes evaded his while she worried her lower lip with her teeth. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t accept. If my neighbors saw your Jeep in front of my house, tongues would wag. I can’t risk the speculation right now…especially with you…”
He couldn’t risk the chance of her surprising her graffiti artist on her doorstep instead of at the salon. “I’ll park down the street and walk up.” The words tasted only slightly bitter in his mouth. “Nobody will know I’m there.”
Thunder cracked overhead like a warning shot.
…
Rain battered Ginny’s windshield as she steered her Ford Escape down Main Street past the fire station and made a left at the first intersection after the square. In her rearview mirror she watched the headlights behind her make the turn as well. She’d bought the Escape because it was roomy and maneuverable, but now, as she led Shaun to her house, she wondered if she ought to hit the gas and do as the car’s name suggested.
