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“Remember that stalking case at the college a few years ago?”
“My memories of my time with you are a little muddled. Remind me.”
He spends the next twenty minutes giving me the highlights of a call I took one night that was the first case he and I worked together. A college student was injured and had been reporting a stalking for months before the incident. Some of what he’s saying rings a bell but nothing in particular.
“And you’ve kept in contact with this girl?”
“Woman. I’ve learned from my own daughter we shouldn’t call anyone over the age of eighteen a girl. Not if we want to keep our balls.”
I chuckle and don’t doubt my sister would agree. “Woman. You’ve kept in contact?”
“Yeah. I know, one of the first things I told you was to not get too close to a victim. Something about this case has always stuck with me. I never doubted Sophia’s fears or what was happening but just couldn’t prove it.”
“Stalking cases are tough. The laws haven’t caught up to the technology, which allows these guys to be a dozen steps ahead of us. Do you have something you want me to look over? Fresh set of eyes?”
The line is silent for a few beats and I wonder if I’ve lost him until I hear a rustle of a few papers and then another exhale. “I’ve sent her to Starlight Ridge.”
“You did what?”
“The stalker has escalated and she doesn’t feel safe. I needed to get her away from Seattle and where technology is scarce. Somewhere I knew she would be anonymous. I need you to watch out for her.”
Now it’s my turn to sigh. Leaning back in the seat, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Slowly, I count to ten and then twenty as I try to regulate my heart rate. I can feel the pressure building. The telltale signs of a headache tapping at my temples.
“Gage, I know you have been through a lot and are working through things of your own. I’m not asking you to even interact with her. Just be aware and keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Her name is Sophia Brooks and since this guy’s thing is all about technology, she’s going to use her mother’s maiden name of Maldonado for now.”
“Where is she staying? It’s not like we have a bunch of vacation rentals in town.”
“The Bluebird.”
The local bed and breakfast. At least with the owner, Joan, around, we won’t have to wonder what this girl, er, woman, is up to and if anyone is out of place. I always thought the concept of small-town busybodies and gossip was for television and movies. I was very wrong. It’s much worse.
“Does Bobbi know about this?”
“Yeah. She was actually excited when I told her Sophia is an accountant.”
I look around the room and the piles of papers. I can’t say I blame her. Bruce and I catch up a little bit more and he gives me more information than I want about this Sophia and her stalker. I hate how interested I am. The idea of being responsible for this woman’s well-being has my heart beating rapidly but there is also this underlying sense of right. Whether I’ll return to the force or not is still up in the air but I can’t deny talking shop even for half an hour has tapped into a part of me I’ve pushed down for a long time.
After our call, I say goodbye to Bobbi and step outside. Fresh air and the scent of pine replaces the aroma of bacon and coffee. I climb into the old Chevy truck and pull the door closed with a thud. The engine roars to life at the same time a small hatchback passes on Main Street. A brunette is behind the wheel and headed in the direction of The Bluebird.
Chapter 18
Sophia
Ihaven’t owned a car since leaving for college. Yet, I have to believe if I did it would be much nicer than what I’m driving now. I don’t mean to be ungrateful for the loaner but a little luxury for such a long trip would have been nice.
While I’m being a baby about the lack of heated seats, I know leaving behind any sort of technology is a necessary evil. Just knowing that someone is still watching me makes me sick to my stomach. Listening to my conversations. Seeing my most intimate moments. Even thinking about what he has seen and heard is beyond comprehension.
I never felt so violated in all of my life. Knowing a stranger, or who I hope is a stranger, tapped into each and every device in my home is sickening. I refuse to entertain the thought that he may have been in the apartment even if Detective Randel thinks it is very likely.
Morgan was as freaked out as me and packed her bags in record time. Unlike me, she has a boyfriend who was more than willing to have her move in with him. I knew one day she would transition to living with Leo but still, I’m unprepared. When we hugged goodbye yesterday, it felt like an actual goodbye not just a “for now” kind of moment. Pushing the thought out of my mind, I follow the handwritten instructions on the paper I taped to the dashboard. Normally my GPS would be telling me where to go but again, no technology.
After driving the six hours to Spokane, I spent the night in a little boutique hotel Detective Randel reserved for me. Thankfully there was a restaurant in the basement of the hotel and I was able to get food to eat in my room. Other than that, I stayed perched on the large king-sized bed with the door double locked and the wingback chair meant to sit near the window pushed against it.
Sleep came in pieces with each noise waking me throughout the night. I rose before dawn and after a quick shower, exchanged my rental car and started the rest of my journey. My lack of sleep is felt in every bone in my body. It’s a familiar feeling since I don’t know that I’ve slept more than a few hours at a time in the last three years. No wonder I look years older than twenty-five.
As I round a curve in the road, I slam on the brakes as a line of little birds scurry across the road. A momma and her little babies are fast as they disappear into the brush. Slowly, I release the brake, gradually increasing my speed just in case more of nature wants to welcome me to town. Without another hiccup, I make it to The Bluebird Bed & Breakfast in a few minutes. The large white clapboard home is set back from the road and protected by at least five tall pine trees. If it wasn’t for the sign at the end of the drive, it would be easy to miss the turnoff.
I pull to the side of the house and with the engine off, sit in silence. It isn’t just quiet, it’s... freakishly still. I’ve always been a city girl. Dad took us camping once and Mom and I both declared the only camping we would be doing would be at a hotel. With air conditioning. At least Detective Randel didn’t send me here with a tent.
