Chapter 5 #2
Nora pulled out her laptop and tried to work, reviewing audit files she’d downloaded before leaving her apartment. But she couldn’t focus. Kept checking her phone. Kept listening for sounds in the hallway.
Around noon, Lila called again.
“Where are you?” her friend demanded without preamble. “You didn’t show up for work. Patricia called me asking if you were sick. What’s going on?”
“I’m fine. I just needed a day off.”
“Nora.” Lila’s voice dropped, concerned. “This is about the stalking thing, isn’t it? Did something happen?”
Yes. Everything happened. Someone broke into my apartment and knows what I wear and is watching me and I’m hiding in a hotel and the only person who believes me is a detective who makes me feel things I shouldn’t feel.
“I’m just being cautious,” Nora said instead. “Taking some time to figure things out.”
“You’re scaring me. Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
Silence. Then, “Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t. I’m sorry, Lila. I just need a few days. I’ll explain everything soon.”
“Nora, you’re starting to sound really paranoid. Maybe you should talk to Dr. Kim—”
“I have to go.” Nora ended the call before Lila could finish.
She sat on the bed, staring at her phone, feeling the isolation deepen. She couldn’t tell her best friend where she was. Couldn’t go to work. Couldn’t live her normal life.
The stalker had taken everything from her. Her sense of safety. Her routine. Her connections.
And she was completely alone, except for one detective who—
Her phone buzzed. A text from Carson: Bringing Eugene in for questioning at 2 PM. Will update you after.
Relief flooded through her. Not alone. She wasn’t alone.
Carson was working on this. Fighting for her. Believing her.
She typed back: Thank you. Please be safe.
His response came quickly: Always am. You too.
Nora set down her phone and tried to breathe through the anxiety. Two hours until Carson questioned Eugene. Two hours until they maybe got answers.
She could survive two hours.
***
The knock on her door came at 3:15 PM.
Nora froze on the bed, heart hammering. Carson had said he’d call first. Always call first.
Another knock. Louder.
“Nora? It’s me. Open up.”
Carson’s voice. But he hadn’t called.
She approached the door slowly, peering through the peephole. Carson stood there, looking tense and frustrated. Definitely him.
But he was supposed to call first.
“Did you call me?” she asked through the door.
A pause. “My phone died. I came straight from the station. Nora, we need to talk. Open the door.”
Something felt wrong. Off. Carson was careful. Methodical. He wouldn’t show up without calling, wouldn’t let his phone die during an active investigation.
“Show me your badge,” Nora said.
Another pause. Then he held up his badge to the peephole. Gold shield, Blackridge PD, Detective Carson Black.
It looked real. Everything looked real.
But the feeling of wrongness intensified.
“I’m going to call the station,” Nora said. “Verify it’s you.”
“Jesus, Nora, it’s me. Just open the—” He stopped. Took a breath. When he spoke again, his voice was gentler. “You’re right. That’s smart. Call the station. Verify. I’ll wait.”
The tension in her shoulders eased slightly. That sounded like Carson. Patient. Understanding her caution.
She pulled out her phone with shaking hands and dialed the station. The receptionist answered on the second ring.
“Blackridge Police Department.”
“Hi, this is Nora Bell. Can you confirm that Detective Carson Black is currently out of the station? He’s at my location?”
“Let me check.” A pause. Keys clicking. “Yes, ma’am. Detective Black signed out about twenty minutes ago. Said he was following up on the Whitmore interview.”
Relief flooded through her. It really was him.
“Thank you.” She ended the call and unlocked the door.
Carson stepped inside, and she caught his expression—equal parts understanding and concern.
“Sorry,” she said. “I know you said to—”
“No.” He held up a hand. “Don’t apologize. That was exactly the right thing to do. Verify everything. Trust your instincts.”
The approval in his voice made her chest warm. “What happened with Eugene?”
Carson’s expression darkened. “He lawyered up immediately. Wouldn’t answer any questions. But here’s the interesting part—he knew I was coming. Someone tipped him off.”
Nora’s stomach dropped. “How?”
“That’s what I need to figure out. But it means whoever’s doing this has access to information they shouldn’t have.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Which makes this a lot more complicated.”
“What do we do now?”
Carson met her eyes, and something in his expression made her breath catch. Determination. Promise. Something else she couldn’t quite name.
“Now I find out who tipped off Eugene. And I make sure you stay safe until this is over.” He paused. “Which might mean moving you again. This hotel might be compromised.”
Fear spiked through her. “Where would I go?”
“Somewhere secure. Somewhere only I know about.” His voice dropped lower, the look in his eyes intensifying. “My place.”
Nora’s heart stuttered. “Your apartment?”
“It’s secure. No one would think to look for you there. And I’d be there to make sure nothing happens.” He held her gaze. “But only if you’re comfortable with that. I can find somewhere else if—”
“No.” The word came out before she could think it through. “Your place is good. I trust you.”
I trust you.
Three words that meant everything. That changed everything.
Carson’s expression shifted, something warm and intense flickering in his eyes before he locked it down. “Okay. Pack your things. We’ll head there now.”
As Nora gathered her belongings, her hands shook—but not entirely from fear.
She was going to stay at Carson Black’s apartment. Alone with the detective who made her feel safe and terrified and alive all at once.
The detective she was starting to trust with more than just her physical safety.
And she had no idea if that was the smartest decision she’d ever made or the most dangerous.