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“My house okay?” I asked.
“Yes,” Captain Morgan said. “There was a window knocked out in your door, and I replaced it already. You’re welcome.”
I felt my lips curl.
“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate it.”
“No worries,” he said. “You need to set your alarm.”
I’d forgotten in our haste to get out of the house later that afternoon.
My mind had been focused on the burning sensation the ring box was making in my pocket and not safety, obviously.
I pressed my hand to my thigh, feeling the ring dig into my skin.
I’d ditched the ring box at the first rest stop we’d stopped at, annoyed by the bulge in my pocket that you could very clearly see. It’d been only a matter of time before she saw it and recognized the shape for what it was.
“I’ll do that now,” I promised.
“Good man,” he said. “I’m out.”
Then he was gone, leaving me sighing long and loud.
“What was that?” Saylor asked, scooting over to press closely against my side.
“That was my captain telling me that the house was nearly broken into,” I grumbled.
She gasped. “Did he get in?”
I shook my head, then pulled up the app on my phone that allowed me to arm the alarm.
With that done, I thought of something and texted Captain Morgan.
Lock: What’s the make and model of the car?
Captain Morgan texted back seconds later.
CM: 1999 Civic. Black with green rims.
I closed my eyes and groaned.
“That’s the car that I keep seeing all over town,” I cursed. “Thishasthe be the creepy fucker that’s sending us mail.”
Saylor didn’t pretend not to know what I was talking about.
“Do you think that it’s the same person that sent that to my dad?” she asked. “The same one that’s harassing him?”
After texting a reply to the captain to ensure that he took a look in the parking lot of Saylor’s old apartment building, I shoved the phone back into my pocket and shrugged.
“I honestly can’t pretend to know anything,” I said. “The picture he got? Yes. The rest? No, I have no clue.”
She made a sound in the back of her throat, then placed her hand on my thigh.
“Let’s go,” she ordered. “I’d like to talk to my dad.”
***
To say that Kettle was happy to see his daughter was an understatement.
