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She sat next to me and I shuffled over to give her space.
“How’s Emma?” she asked.
“Scared,” I said. “She’s going to stay with us for a while until we figure out what to do about Nathan. You’re welcome to come too, if you’d like.”
She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head.
“He wants Emma,” she said. “He’s not interested in me, especially if she’s not here.”
I nodded.
“The offer’s there if you change your mind.”
I tried to ignore the anxiety that swelled up as soon as I saw the cop car pull up, its blue and red lights illuminating the dark road. Two officers climbed out, both wearing uniforms.
Their eyes scanned over my tattoos.
“I’m Officer Parker and this is Officer Dalton,” the woman with dark hair pulled back into a low bun said. “Did one of you call about a break-in?”
“Yes,” I said.
Her male partner scribbled something in his notebook.
“What’s your name?”
“Adrian Greenfield.” I didn’t elaborate more than I had to — they’d find my criminal record in their system. I didn’t need to tell them about it.
The officer nodded.
“Are you the homeowner?”
“My friend lives here,” I said. “I’m here to pick up her things — she’s staying with me for a few days.” I held up the set of keys as though they somehow proved my story. “Her ex is stalking her — she’s scared to come back.”
I felt their eyes scan my tattoos again. Did they believe me? Or were they going to make the same assumptions they’d made last time, that I was a no-good criminal who couldn’t tell the truth and belonged in jail?
“I live here,” Cora said, perhaps sensing their skepticism. “I’ll show you.”
She led them inside the house and I stayed where I was, waiting. I assumed they were taking photographs or dusting for fingerprints. Maybe asking Cora for more information.
They re-emerged quicker than I expected, and I stood up, hoping they were going to chase Nathan — hell, maybe even set up a task force.
“Who did you say left these?” the female cop asked, holding up the photos in an evidence bag.
“Her ex, Nathan…” I realized I didn’t know his last name. I only knew his first name from Emma’s tattoo.
The male cop wrote more notes, and then closed his notebook.
“Thanks. Get in touch with us if anything else happens.”
They turned and walked away, back in the direction of their car. I was stunned. Did that mean what I thought it did?
“Wait, are you saying you’re not going to do anything?”
“There’s not much wecando,” the female officer said. “Until he actually breaks the law, our hands are tied.”
I could feel the artery in my neck thumping, but I focused on keeping my temper under control.
“Okay,” I said, through gritted teeth.
