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Crap. “Yeah.”
She gave me a reassuring smile, but I still caught some pity in her eyes as she touched my arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It doesn’t make you look bad at all. Women are jealous. They’d love for a chance to be saved by Brett Broudou. Tell me you and he exchanged numbers after meeting that way?”
My eyebrows shot all the way up.
Reading me wrong, she let me go, laughing. “Next time, Billie. If the universe brings a man like that to rescue you, you get his number. I secretly hoped he got yours, but knowing you, you probably snuck out of there as soon as possible.”
She’d not seen the other clip then, the one with those guys on the street. I ducked my head down. “Next time maybe I’ll have you come with me.”
“I’d love that.” She nodded to someone behind me. “Miss Vicky sent her in with a whole cart full of eggs.”
I turned, but already knew Martell was coming our way.
He perused the cart. “Bring ’em on back. We’ll look them over, but Vicky’s good with sorting out the bad from the good ones.”
She was indeed, but I still pushed the cart to the back of the store.
I found Deandra again after that, talking with one of their checkers. “I need to run some errands for Vicky, but I have a few things to grab here,” I told her. “I’ll get them when I come back. Is that okay?”
She held up a hand in a wave. “For sure. We’ll have the tally for you.”
I nodded, heading out to my car. I was crossing the lot, my keys in hand, when a shadow fell over me. My chest constricted, and I whirled, but it was only a man going to his vehicle.
He paused, startled by my reaction, before continuing, holding his grocery bag in hand. His tie flapped over his shoulder, and he smoothed it down, looking harried and in a rush.
“Oh. Sorry.”
He gave me a distracted frown, getting in his vehicle and pulling out.
Why had I reacted like that?
I remembered the parked truck from yesterday. And Brett’s comment the night before.
That was it. That was all.
Brett was new to my life, and he worried with reason, but he was the new factor. He had stirred things up inside me. I was fine. Though, as I got in my car and put the key in the ignition, I realized there hadn’t been the usual calls or letters this time.
Whenever I made a public appearance, that stirred the fanatics up. Vicky and Howard would normally have gotten at least a few calls, a few hang-ups.
But nothing this time.
Why was that?
And if that clip was still trending…
It didn’t make sense. Society was obsessed with serial killers. I was connected—and would always be—to a serial killer. The interest wouldn’t die down. It wasn’t that. I’d lived this life for so long that I’d accepted the attention from people, but it hadn’t happened this time.
Unless… I called Howard at his office.
“Mitchell here.”
“There’s been no calls from the fanatics,” I blurted. “Did you guys do something?”
He hesitated before sighing out my name.
I cursed silently. “You did.”
“We, uh, yes. We added another layer of security filters, and it’s helping, but we’re still getting the calls.”
