66. Classic Car
Classic Car
Fly
Sheridan hasn’t moved in a few hours.
I stare at the tracking app like she’ll magically jump out of my phone if I think about her hard enough. Getting on the plane knowing she was in Beach Haven almost made me lose my mind.
That little dot hasn’t moved for hours. What could she possibly be doing?
You’re just a few minutes out.
It’s a small town. A very small town. Strangers will stick out like a sore thumb.
She’s fine.
Everything is fine.
She ran from me.
She ran without a word after realizing that she loves me.
She ran back to the family who might hurt her…If they hurt her…
Stop. She’s fine. Sheri’s on the main street, probably talking to a friend that she hasn’t seen in a few weeks.
I might kill Vex. Why didn’t he stop her from running?
Because you don’t force a woman to do something. They aren’t a piece of livestock. But Vex doesn’t have all those social niceties. He shouldn’t have a problem locking a woman in his house for an hour until I got there and kissed some sense into her.
That’s what I’ll do, just kiss her until she realizes we were meant for each other.
This main street has all the beachy, small-town vibes. I pull into a parking spot like a hundred feet from her location. Time to find Sheri.
Is she going to be happy to see me or mad?
We’ll figure that out after I kiss her dizzy.
My rocker might not have been the best outfit choice based on the intensity of stares and outright glares I’m receiving as I walk down the street. It also wasn’t the best idea to wear a long-sleeve Henley in this heat and humidity. Did someone forget to turn off the sauna around here?
How does Sheri stand it here?
The dot says it’s right here, but there isn’t anyone right here. The only things around are an empty ice cream shop and a beat-up clunker that should have been junked a decade or more ago. The tracker says Sheri’s right here.
Could that be her car?
I don’t like where my mind is going right now, because the owner of that car either has a hoarding problem or they’re living in their car. Based on the partially used roll of toilet paper and garbage bag full of clothes, I guess living in it.
“Excuse me, young man.” A little old lady walks up to me. “That isn’t your car.”
“No, ma’am. It isn’t.”
“Then I think you should be moving on, or I’ll be forced to call my nephew.” She’s a tiny little bit of a woman, but she shows no fear.
Impressive. “I’m wondering if you could help me.”
“We aren’t very helpful around here to strangers. Are you a stranger or do you know someone?” She tries to lift an eyebrow at me, but all that happens is her forehead wrinkles get more pronounced.
“I am a stranger, but I might not be one for long. You see, my woman grew up here.”
“Your woman? You, sir, don’t own a woman. And you’re clearly not married to one since your finger is bare…so I think you need to change the way you talk about women before I get irritated.”
Don’t laugh.
Don’t laugh because as old and frail as this woman appears to be, I wouldn’t bet against her in a fight.
“I hope to make her mine. You see, I’ve fallen in love with her and failed to properly communicate that to her, which caused her to return home instead of staying with me.
Now I’ve come looking for her to correct that confusion. ”
The woman stares at me for a long moment. “You better not try coming into my store until you’ve put two rings on her finger.”
Huh? “I’d never dream of it, ma’am.”
“Then what’s her name? Maybe I can assist you in your endeavor.”
“Her name is Sheridan Who—”
“Sheridan. Finally. What took you so long to find her? That woman has needed a good man in her life for far too long. She must be around here somewhere. This is her car.”
My heart sinks. Sheri’s been living in her car. Where’s her family in all of this?
It doesn’t matter. She’s not living in her car anymore. “I’m sorry it took me until two months ago to meet her. My heart has been waiting to find her since the beginning of time.”
“That sounds cheesy. You need to work on your lines, or you’ll never end up with a woman like Sheridan. She’s a talented author.”
My phone rings.
“Excuse me just a moment.” I step a few feet away and pick up. “Hello.”
“She’s got a stalker,” the Whiz Kid blurts out.
“I know.” That’s why I called you.
“Well, you were right. And this creep is nutty. He keeps proposing to her. This guy is twisted, Fly.”
My hand flexes into a fist.
“He’s been stalking her for a long time. Like over a year. Did I mention he keeps asking her to marry him…That’s weird. She just blocks his number or changes hers.”
I’m going to kill this guy.
“And get this…he lives in her hometown.”
“WHAT?”
“Is our signal cutting out? He lives in her hometown.”
My gut clenches as the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Name and address. Now.” I click off the phone and dial Havoc. “I need a cleanup team.”
“Where?”
“Track my location.” I click off my phone.
It rings again. Unknown number flashes on my screen.
The Whiz Kid can deal with it if it’s a scammer.
“What?”
“Fly. Good. I caught you. This is Rhys.”
The tattoo artist Rhys…the woman who owns the shop not too far from me.
“You probably don’t know who I am because you don’t get tattoos.”
“I know you.”
“Ok. Good. Okay. So this is going to sound weird. But I need to know something. Are you in love with Sheridan?”
Rhys knows Sheri? “Yes? Why?”
“Then you might want to come to Beach Haven. That’s all I’m going to say. I’ve meddled enough.”
“Rhys.”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. And step outside of your shop.”
“What?” The door opens, and some bright dreadlocks appear. “Fly? What are you doing here?”
“Have you seen Sheri?”
“About twenty minutes ago, she left my shop. Her car is right there.”
He’s got her. The stalker has got her…My brain keeps screaming those words, even though that’s not the probable answer. She just got back to town hours ago.
“She might have gone to the market to grab some food now that she’s back in town.”
That’s a good idea. “I’ll go check.”
“There’s no need, young man. I already checked with the Ladies’ League. Sheridan hasn’t been seen anywhere since she walked out of Rhys’ shop. Everyone wants to know what tattoo she got.” The little old lady stares up at me expectantly.
“I don’t know what tattoo she got.” But I’m determined to find out. She wouldn’t have covered up our butterfly, would she have?
My phone pings with a message received.
An address.
The stalker! Without a word, I turn on my heel and rush to my car. He’s a dead man.
Two blocks…just two blocks and you’ll have her back.