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Not wanting to waste too much of my day off, I eventually muster up the energy to do what needs to be done and start changing my tire. Once I have it removed, it’s clear to see what caused the flat—a large nail. I pull it out with pliers and frown at what I see. It’s nearly three inches long and perfectly straight, having punctured through the steel cords inside. Normally, a nail this size would bend when it hits the radial bands.
Staring at the nail, I can’t help but wonder if it was one of those “one-in-a-million” chance happenings or if someone did this on purpose. Immediately, I think of Mark Jenkins and his threat that karma would get me. The other day, I felt like I was being watched. Could Mark have been following me and waiting for an opportunity to do such a thing? It seems petty, but the timing fits.
The same feeling of being watched happens again when I raise the trunk of my car to pull out my spare. I look over my shoulder but don’t see anyone. Feeling silly, I quickly finish up and head back inside, setting the alarm. I pull the curtains back just a fraction and watch to see if anyone is scoping out the place, but after five minutes, there’s still no sign of anyone out of place. I laugh at my paranoia and spend the next few hours binge-watchingChoppedand eating delivery fromCondividi Sempre.I might not be able to cook, but a girl can dream.
I must have dozed off because I’m startled awake when Daphne gets home from work and immediately starts talking a mile a minute.
“I think it’s time for me to seriously consider getting a temporary place in Medford, as you had suggested. The number of accidents on the I-95 was insane! I didn’t think…Oh! Were you sleeping?” She looks at her phone to check the time.
“I must have been tired from doing a whole lot of nothing today. Other than changing a tire, I mostly vegetated. Why on earth are you holding a vase full of wilted flowers?”
“Oh. These were on the porch. They have seen better days, haven’t they?” She grabs the card tucked in the nearly dead bouquet, and her lips turn down as she flips it over. “There’s no name on it. Want me to open it?”
“Sure. Maybe they’re for you.”
“I haven’t had time to meet a man, not even one that buys the bargain flowers on clearance,” she says, almost despondently. She opens the card and grimaces. Instead of reading it to me, she throws the flowers and the card in the trash.
“What did it say?”
“Nothing worth repeating.” She plops down beside me and looks straight ahead, saying nothing. I stare at her for nearly three minutes before she cracks.
“Gah! Fine! You win! The note said, ‘All good things must come to an end.’ Do you have any idea who would have sent that?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know?” I tell her my theory about the nail and the feeling of being watched.
“You might be right about that Mark guy, but have you considered the possibility that it could be Melissa? Maybe scaring you is one of her ways of ‘playing for keeps?’”
“I hadn’t thought of that. But how would either one of them know where I live?” I begin to bite on my thumbnail nervously, at least until she slaps it away.
“What about Joe? Didn’t he drive you home the other day? He knows where you live and has a history of sending flowers anonymously.”
I shake my head. “Why would he send a note like that? I can’t think of one good reason since we left things on good terms.”
“Who knows? Maybe he thinks Carter is an obstacle and is standing in the way of you falling for him. You saved his life, and now he’s totally obsessed with you. What’s that called? The Nightingale Effect?”
“You’re too much!” I tell her, throwing one of the couch pillows at her head. She laughs but doesn’t argue.
“I’m going to head to bed. I have to get up early to stop by the tire shop and have them put on a full-size one before I go to work. That means being there as soon as they open at six.”
“Nighty night!” she shouts as I shuffle up the stairs.
I arrive at the station the next day with a cup of java and a brand-spanking new tire. Feeling like I accomplished more today than I did yesterday, I’m all smiles when I enter the firehouse. That is until I see the brooding looks on Sebastian’s, Callum’s, and Trey’s faces.
“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it!” I tell them.
“No, you surely didn’t,” my brother says, with his hands firmly on his hips and wearing a glower. “What you should have done was call us the moment you thought something was wrong. We had to hear from Daphne about the flowers and the ominous note attached.”
“We should tell Carter about this,” Callum suggests.
“NO! I don’t want to bother him with something that’s most likely nothing. I can handle this.” I debated whether to call Carter and tell him what was happening but ultimately decided against it. He clearly wanted space, and I intend to give it to him.
Trey purses his lips. “I don’t like it, but it’s Leanna’s life and her decision. We have to respect that.”
“Thank you. Now let’s get to work.” I say, clapping my hands once for effect. Callum comes over and quickly hugs me since his shift is over.
“Be careful. When people aren’t in their right mind, they can become dangerous. I strongly suggest rethinking your stance on talking to Carter about this. I don’t want to see what happened to Callie happen to you because some small detail is missed.”
“I’ll think about it, I promise.” Our oldest sister, Callie, had been stalked and attacked two years ago, and we almost lost her. Thankfully, she survived the encounter, but just barely. If it hadn’t been for Callum and Carter, the outcome might have been very different.
