Chapter Eight #2
I motioned for her to let me go first up the stairwell.
It was a direct shot straight up to the landing of the second floor and I could see three doors off the short hall.
I scanned the hall and then let Grace lead me to her door.
It was the last one in the hall on the street side of the building.
Her windows must have been at least some of the windows I had noticed when we first arrived. That would be a problem.
“Let me go first,” I said when she unlocked her door.
I grabbed her hand before she could open it.
I didn’t want to alarm her, but my gut was never wrong and something didn’t sit right with me about this whole thing.
I pulled my gun and let it lead me into the room to check things out.
Thankfully, light filtered through the sheer curtains on the window and we wouldn’t need to alert anyone to our immediate presence by lighting the place up.
Grace followed closely behind me as I scanned the small studio apartment.
There were two windows and one other door leading to a small bathroom.
One window faced the alley that ran to the side of the building.
That had to be the fire escape I’d noticed from the street.
Her street-side window had the curtains pulled closed.
A small blessing. I moved to the bathroom and finished my sweep of the apartment.
“Close the door,” I ordered Grace, who had stood frozen by the entrance. She startled and turned to follow my directions.
“What’s wrong? Is something out of place?
” I scanned the room again, looking for what would draw that reaction out of her as I moved the stand to the side of the street side window, looking out the small gap between the curtain and the wall.
I didn’t notice anything unusual, but then I’d never been here before and wouldn’t notice something small and mundane.
I peeked out the window, noting the changes since we were on the street, while she locked the door.
The white car drove by again and I realized why it had seemed odd to me before.
The street was small and crowded with cars, but even that didn’t warrant the unusually slow speed of the car as it passed this building.
“My flowers,” Grace said. “They’re gone.”
Her words drew me from my surveillance. She stood frozen by the door, staring at a small table nestled in the L-shaped kitchen.
“Flowers?” I asked for clarification.
“I always keep fresh-cut flowers in a vase on the table. Always. Since the day I moved in here, I’ve had fresh flowers in the apartment.
On that table.” She moved to the table in question, as if there were another one and I might be confused.
“I walk to the market just up the road and get them for myself every week. Yesterday, I bought green and purple mums and pink carnations. I liked the colors together and put a little purple bow around the edge of the vase to match.” She stared at the table like it would bite her as she reached out to pick up a paper in the middle, presumably where the flowers would have been.
I left my perch by the window and moved to her to get a good look at the paper.
It was exactly what I’d hoped we would find.
Another note. My blood chilled at the implication as Grace looked from the paper to me.
Her green eyes were wide and her brow drawn in confusion and maybe a little fear.
They didn’t just slide a new note under the door.
They let themselves in, took her precious flowers, and left her with a clear warning of what was really coming if she didn’t pay up.
It wasn’t just her boss they threatened. It was her.
“Pack a bag,” I said immediately upon seeing the note. “You can’t stay here.” Whoever this was let themselves into her apartment and locked the door behind them on the way out, without leaving any trace of a break-in.
“But,” she protested. “I — how?”
I double checked the door, making sure she locked it behind her before noticing the missing flowers. It wouldn’t stop someone truly determined, but it would buy us a little time. Time to do what I’ve been wanting to do again since those first moment she showed up at my house.
I pulled her into my arms.
She trembled slightly and took a moment before she returned the embrace.
I didn’t hold her for long. Just long enough to let her know she wasn’t alone and didn’t need to be scared.
I could protect her. I would protect her.
I didn’t linger like I wanted. The white car is in the back of my mind.
The threat was still nearby, and we needed to move.
When I let her go, her eyes were bright, but she looked determined.
“You can’t come back here, including work, until we get this sorted.
They are escalating their threats with each encounter and who knows what they will do next.
You’ll come stay with me. I have a safe house in the city.
” I moved to what I assumed was a closet to help her pack while I talked.
She was slow to follow me, but eventually got moving.
“I have vacation and sick time. I’ve never called out.
Mr. Jones likes me. I think he doesn’t even actually need me.
He just took pity on me. I don’t have to come back for work.
” She seemed so defeated by those words and I remembered this place was supposed to be her safe place, her place, somewhere free from fear and intimidation.
My heart broke for her as I grabbed every piece of clothing I touched and shoved them into a bag I found on the floor of the closet.
She moved to the small dresser by the bed and did the same.
“I’m so sorry, Grace,” I said when I had filled the bag and set it by the door. She didn’t respond as she moved to the bathroom and collected up her toiletries.
I moved back to the table and picked up the letter and realized we hadn’t even bothered to read it.
I didn’t bother now, either. We could worry about that when she was safe.
I folded the note and slid it into the pocket of my coat for safekeeping.
She was packed and ready to go faster than some men I worked with and I couldn’t help the well of pride that fact built in me.
She wasn’t mine to be proud of, but my body didn’t seem to get the message.
I looked out the window one last time before we made our way downstairs and back to the car to make sure the way was clear. The white car was nowhere in sight.