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Just the thought brings back the fear from last night and my stomach knots. “How did they get into the building? You need a key card and, as far as I know, everyone is very diligent about not letting strangers in the building.”
“That’s the thing, they had a card.”
All of the blood drains from my body and my heart feels like it stops. “What?”
The detective holds up his hands. “It’s not someone from your building. We were able to pull up the log from the door entries and the key was issued to Francis Dunkin.”
“Miss Dunkin?” I ask, confused. “She’s the one who—”
“She lost her card yesterday morning,” he says. “Her purse was stolen when she was at the grocery store. She reported it as stolen, and later yesterday, NOPD got a call from a shop owner who said they found it near their dumpster. Everything seemed to be in place when they returned it to Miss Dunkin, but apparently her keycard was the only thing the perp was after. And before you ask, we’ve already pulled the surveillance from the grocery store, but it’s the same story—a tall figure, could be a man or a woman, it’s hard to tell, dressed in dark colors and wearing a hoodie. They always keep their head down and go straight for whatever their mission is—placing the note, lifting the purse, hanging the bag on your door. They know exactly when and where they are at all times, so if I had to guess, it’s someone who does this sort of thing all the time. I think we have a career criminal on our hands.”
George grunts his disapproval. “What about the surveillance from the stadium? Were you able to get that?”
Detective Briggs nods. “We did and there was nothing. The corridor she was in doesn’t have a direct line of sight to any cameras. There is heavy security just outside of that corridor though and everyone who gets past that point has to have a badge and be checked by security. We’re still at a loss how anyone would get by all of that.”
“What does he want with Greer?” George asks, pacing his office and making me even more nervous than I already am. “Any leads on who it could be?”
The detective lets out a deep sigh. “It’s hard to say. We have looked into the ex-boyfriend and nothing seemed suspicious or out of order. Have you been in contact with your family recently?”
“No,” I answer quickly, my eyes trained on the floor, “I haven’t.”
The last time I spoke with Miles it was to inform him I never wanted to speak to him again and demand he lose my number. Then, I blocked him. And I haven’t spoken to my father since he uninvited me to Christmas a few years ago.
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea to make contact with them and inform them of what is happening. They have a lot of pull in the city and could be a useful resource.”
My gut flips with the thought of calling my parents. “I’d rather not.”
The detective gives me a curt nod. “Okay, but this guy is smart. He’s moving around security systems like he’s part of theOcean's Elevencrew. The way he has diversified his tactics is enough to keep us all guessing. At this point, we’re basically waiting for him to do something stupid.”
As my heart starts to jackhammer in my chest, the blood seems to rush through my body and I feel like I can hear it in my head. “Do something stupid?” I ask slowly, hoping what I’m assuming is wrong.
“We need him to slip up,” the detective says matter-of-factly. “Until then, we’ll be patrolling the station and the vicinity around your apartment. Do you have a roommate?”
“No,” I tell him, deciding now is as good a time as any to inform George about my fake relationship with Mack Granger. “But I’m going to be staying with my boyfriend for a while.”
The detective nods his head in approval. “I’d also like you to stay with your cameraman when you’re at the games. If you need an escort at any time, we’ll provide one for you. But I need you to stay diligent… all of you.” He turns his attention back to George. “I’m assuming you have adequate security measures in place.”
“We do,” George confirms before turning to face me. “You’ve never mentioned a boyfriend before.”
Swallowing, I put on my game face. “It’s a relatively new development,” I begin, deciding to go with Mack’s suggestion from earlier. “We met through mutual friends and have been keeping things private, but we feel like it’s time to go public. I was planning on speaking to you about it before all of this started happening, but never got the chance.”
“Why would you need to speak to me?” George asks.
“It’s Mack Granger,” I tell him with all the confidence in the world. “I thought you might want to know before everyone else. He’s talking to Buddy Malone and the rest of the staff on his end. We just want to keep everything above reproach. Even though we don’t work for the same organizations, we do realize we work together occasionally, and we don’t want it to be a problem.”
George’s brows furrow as he cocks his head to the side. “Never saw you as one to go for a baseball player,” he grumbles. “Especially one that plays the field like Mack Granger, but what do I know? Keep things professional when you’re on the job and I won’t have a problem with it.”
Without another word, he swings the door open and stomps out. I realize for someone like George, who doesn’t like change, all of this is a lot for him to process.
“We’ll be in touch,” Detective Briggs says, following George out the door.
Letting out an exhausted sigh, I pinch the bridge of my nose and pray away the headache I feel creeping up on me. Between the stalker and the fake relationship and temporarily moving, my whole life feels out of sorts and my emotions are all over the place.
I need a chance to decompress, but I have work to do here and a game to be at tonight.
After that, the team will leave for another series on the road and…shit, what am I going to do then? I’ll have Mack around to make me feel safe for one more night and then what? Am I going to stay at his house alone? Even though there is no way I’m going back to my apartment right now, the thought of staying in Mack’s big house by myself also feels scary.
Maybe I could stay at a hotel? But then there’s the coming and going by myself and after last night, I feel like my every move is being watched. If I knew what the jackass wants, it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s the unknown that is freaking me out.
