AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.
Zoe sighed. “That feeling of being watched. But there’s no one there.”
“Might be someone in a car,” he said. “But I’m right here. You’re safe. Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”
As they walked the final block in silence, Spence said, “There’s your building,” as he nodded toward the skyscraper. “This morning, I noticed a small garden between the two buildings across the street. I want to check it out before we go inside.”
“Okay.” She was cold, but she wasn’t going to whine about it. A few more minutes wouldn’t make a difference.
They turned the corner and she spotted the small strips of flowers and bushes in two rows between the buildings. Blooming tulips were splashes of red, with purple and yellow pansies weaving between them. Small pink flowers she didn’t recognize bordered the other flowers. The tiny strip of garden was alive with color.
“How come I never noticed this?” she said. “It’s lovely.”
“Lots of people don’t see what’s right in front of them.” Spence jerked his head toward the bench that was placed near the street at the end of the garden. “Stay over there while I check it out.”
She moved to the bench, and it pressed against her calves as she leaned against it. She certainly hadn’t seen Ethan for what he was. An image of her father’s knees buckling after Ethan shot him filled her head. She closed her eyes, tears prickling behind her eyelids.
When she blinked away the tears, Spence was kneeling in the small strip of grass on the garden’s edge. He examined the soil, then moved to another spot. When he stilled, she wanted to run over to him.
Instead, she cleared her throat. “What do you see?”
“Footprints in the dirt,” he said, his voice flat. “More than one set, but it looks like it was the same person standing in the dirt each time.”
“You think it was Ethan?”
He nodded slowly. “Most likely. Who else would skulk in a garden across from your building?”
“Why not just sit in the coffee shop?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself. How many times had he stood here, watching her leave her apartment or return to it?
“Coffee shop isn’t open in the evenings,” Spence said, squatting to study the footprints. “So he had to wait somewhere else. This is the only space that’s close to your building but still a little hidden.” He stood up and reached for his phone. “I’m calling the police.”
An hour later, the police were gone. As they drove away, Spence said, “The casts that those evidence techs took aren’t going to help them catch Davies. But when they do grab him, they’ll compare the casts with his shoes. When they match, which I’m pretty sure they will, they can charge him with stalking.”
Zoe shivered, and not just from the cold. “This is getting seriously creepy.”
At that, Spence looked over at her, and his expression softened. “Yeah, it is,” he said. He held out his hand, and she curled her fingers around his. Held on tightly. “Let’s go get that lock so I can install it tonight. We can pick up dinner while we’re out, too.”
“I don’t want to eat in a restaurant,” she said. “I’d feel too exposed.”
“I don’t want to go into a crowded restaurant either,” Spence said. “We’ll get something to go.”
An hour later, Zoe opened the container of salsa and set it on the table, along with the box of chips. The lock sat on a kitchen counter, a visible symbol of her problems with Ethan. As she slid into her chair and opened her enchiladas, her hands shook, and the container shot across the table toward Spence. He pushed it back to her, and she straightened it carefully on the table. She wasn’t still scared. It was adrenaline. She was still jumpy from the footprints in the garden across the street.
Swallowing hard, she scooped up some salsa with a chip, and a dollop of green sauce hit the table.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spence curl his hand into a fist. Then he relaxed it and pressed his palm to the table. “I hate that Davies is in your head,” he said.
“Yeah, well, I don’t like him taking up real estate there, either.” She swallowed. “But it’s hard not to think about him when I’m hiding in my condo.”
“Is that what you think we’re doing?” he asked, dipping a chip in the salsa verde. “What would you be doing on a normal evening?”
She leaned back in her chair. Studied him for a long moment. “Probably this,” she admitted. “Eating carry-out food. Reading a book or a newspaper online.”
“So not so different from real life for you.”
“I guess not.” She took a tiny sip of wine from the glass she’d poured herself. “But it feels different.”
He nodded and dug into his dinner.
