37. Chris
Chapter thirty-seven
Chris
T he rest of Christmas was as perfect as I prayed it would be. The food was fantastic, from the decadent breakfasts Greyson made to his elaborate lunch and dinner spreads. The company was, of course, delightful. I wasn’t worried about Dad and Greyson getting along, but seeing them interacting like they’d known each other for years was still something of a relief.
We were just about to indulge in a Christmas dinner big enough to feed the army when my cell phone rang. The second I saw the number for dispatch on the caller ID, my happiness burst like a bubble.
“I have Sergeant Sobol from Belmont County for you,” the dispatcher said when I answered. “Is it ok to put him through?”
“Yeah. Sure.” I hurried out of the dining room and wandered down the hall, out of earshot and hopefully out of feeling range of Greyson.
“Chris. Sorry to ruin your Christmas,” John said, already sounding miserable.
“What’s up?”
“Donald Nielsen escaped from New Hope Treatment Center, out in Dearborn.”
“What?! What the fuck was he doing there?”
“He told the jail nurse he was suicidal and the judge recog’ed him so we didn’t have to foot the bill. New Hope was supposed to call us when he was ready to be picked up. He’s been there for two weeks. He slipped out a little bit ago.”
“And no one thought to put a fucking ankle bracelet on him before they essentially let him go?!”
“He had one—he cut it off as soon as he got out of the facility.”
“So is Dearborn PD looking for him?”
“They did. They couldn’t find him and because it’s Christmas, they’re at minimum staffing, so it’s not like they have the manpower. Chicago PD is going to swing by his house, but there’s no telling where he is. We won’t be able to get a warrant until tomorrow morning. Just thought you should know since you have that stalking case with him. Might want to warn your vic.”
I rubbed my forehead, already dreading that particular conversation. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“I’ll let you know if we hear anything else.”
I hung up and nearly put my fist through the drywall. Somehow I managed to contain my rage and expelled a few slow breaths that did nothing to calm my ass down. Where was my black tourmaline when I needed it? I definitely had some negative thoughts it could soak up, or whatever the hell it did.
Easing up the staircase as quietly as I could without making the steps squeak, I hurried to the safe next to my bed and unlocked it. I didn’t typically carry a gun in my own house but there was a first time for everything. Holstering it under my hoodie, I turned to the taller safe wedged in the corner by the closet, retrieving my shotgun and my AR. The AR got propped next to the bed and I carried the shotgun downstairs, tucking it inside the coat closet in the front hallway.
Feeling marginally better, or at least more prepared, I ducked into the kitchen real quick to put on a pot of coffee. The boring drip kind because I needed quantity over quality for the night ahead. That’s where Greyson found me.
“What’s wrong?” he asked from the doorway.
“Nothing.” I flashed him a smile. “Thought Dad might want some coffee for after dinner.”
“You know I make better coffee.” Greyson folded his arms over his chest. “You’re on edge. I can feel it. It’s literally prickling all over my body.”
“It’s a work thing. Nothing for you to worry about.”
“I don’t believe that but for your father’s sake, I’m not going to push, either.”
“Everything ok?” Dad asked over Greyson’s shoulder, glancing between us.
“Yep.” I gave Dad the same too-bright smile, hoping it would work on him since it hadn’t fooled Greyson in the slightest.
“Let’s eat,” Greyson said with a more convincing smile, ushering Dad back to the dining room.
I followed them to the table, simultaneously trying to push Don from my mind while also keeping an ear perked for every little noise. One thing was for certain—it was going to be a long fucking night.
Nitro growled low in the dark and I turned toward where he was glaring, relieved to see it was only Greyson slinking down the stairs, Selene weaving through his feet like a ghost. As soon as Nitro realized who it was, he groaned and dropped his head to his paws, huffing and presumably settling in for another nap.
Selene trotted over to the front window where I was standing and rubbed against my leg before jumping up on the ledge. She purred softly and rammed her head into my hand until I petted her.
“It’s after one in the morning,” Greyson said, rubbing his arms. He was wearing my Western hoodie again. It seemed to be his favorite. “Are you coming to bed anytime soon?”
“Can’t sleep,” I murmured, turning my gaze out the window again, surveilling the front yard in a slow, circuitous loop.
“Should I rekindle the fire?”
“No,” I said quickly, turning to stop him on his way across the room. “Leave the lights off.”
“It’s Don, isn’t it? Something’s happened.”
I stared at my mug, the steam from my third cup of coffee curling upward in the moonlight. “Let’s sit down.”
Greyson perched on the edge of the couch as I moved around to the front, sitting next to him and setting my mug on the coffee table.
“I didn’t want you to worry,” I said, taking his hand in mine. “I didn’t want it to ruin Christmas. But I got a call earlier, as you know. Apparently the jail took him to a psych center out east for suicidal statements. He had an ankle bracelet, but he managed to escape the facility and cut the bracelet off. He’s in the wind.”
Greyson squeezed my hand gently. “Come to bed. Nothing is going to happen tonight.”
“Do you know that?”
He shook his head. “No. But I know him. Threats and scare tactics always ramp up right before a holiday or on the actual day, making sure to ruin them. But the attacks come later, when he thinks I’ve let my guard down.”
“He’s fucking crazy, Grey. He could always change his MO. Look at the shooting!”
“He could. But he won’t. It’s worked for him thus far. The shooting didn’t. He’ll go back to what he’s always done—and gotten away with.”
“Yeah, but now he’s got the police looking for him too.”
He laughed softly. “No, they’re not. It’s one o’clock in the morning on Christmas. It’s cold. It’s snowing. If you were working, what would you be doing? You’d be at the PD, where it’s warm, enjoying a plethora of food and hanging out with your coworkers. That means Don is free to move around wherever he likes, getting ready for the next part of his demented plan. He’s crazy but he’s not stupid. He’s not going to come straight at me because that’s the first thing normal people expect.”
“I suppose you’re right,” I sighed.
“When are you going to learn, I’m always right?” He batted his lashes and tugged my hand. “Come on. The bed is cold.”
I let him pull me to my feet and lead the way up the stairs, Nitro and Selene trotting after us, one happy little family.