Chapter 12 #2
“I haven’t had a panic attack in months,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry I had one last night.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He wished he could reach for her hand or even wrap his arms back around her, but now that they were sitting, that would be awkward, wouldn’t it?
“I guess you must have a magic touch. Because that was the quickest I’ve ever gotten over an attack.”
“I’m glad I could help.” Considering he was the one who’d caused the panic attack by making her wait in the dark, it had been the least he could do.
“If being a bodyguard doesn’t work out for you or your app doesn’t do well, then you’ll have no trouble finding a new profession.”
He’d explained his app last night when they’d been driving over to the condo. She’d been curious about how it worked, and he’d been eager to tell her all about his project.
A part of him was excited to get it out into the world so that more security firms and more people in general could use it to feel safe. But he was also ready to move on and start developing a new app.
“And what profession do you suggest?” he asked.
“You could become a mental health therapist since you’re a good listener and have great insights.”
“We both know I’d make a terrible therapist.”
“I’m sure you’d do a wonderful job.”
“If therapy involved a kick in the pants.”
She laughed again. “Okay, so maybe you’re not cut out to be a therapist. But you are definitely good at comforting people having panic attacks.”
“Just you.”
“I’m sure you’d do great with anyone.”
“Nope. You’re the only one.”
“The only one, huh?” Her voice reflected a smile.
What was he admitting? Shoot. He needed to be more careful with what he was saying.
“Does that mean I can call on you any time I have a panic attack, and you’ll come and get me through it?”
He wanted to answer that he definitely would. But he just shook his head. “Where’s your optimism? You won’t have another panic attack. At least, not for a long time.”
“You’re right. See. I’m already rubbing off on you, and you’re turning into an optimist.”
“Don’t count on it.” He loved bantering with her. For that matter, he loved talking with her about anything.
But he couldn’t let it change anything about their relationship. He’d been hired to be her EPA. Not a companion. Or her panic-attack comforter. Yes, they were old friends, and he’d reached out to her as he would a friend. That’s all it had been. Even so, it had been too much.
At a beep from his phone, he glanced at the screen.
He was expecting it to be the neighbor’s dog again.
Instead, an image of a person appeared—a man in a Chicago Cubs baseball cap pulled low and an Adidas jacket zipped high, so that only his nose showed.
He was slinking along the side of the condo, ducking under windows as though he didn’t want to be seen.
This was Silver’s stalker. He had to be. Who else would be out at this time of the morning, sneaking around while trying to keep his face hidden?
Dustin’s pulse kicked into high speed. He didn’t want to scare Silver, didn’t want her to make any sound. So he kept his composure the way he’d trained to do. “I’d like to check something outside.”
“Okay.” She reclined against the sofa. “Did you see something on your app?”
“Yes.” He wanted to take the stalker by surprise and restrain him until the police arrived. “But I don’t want to leave you alone in here in the dark.”
“I’ll be fine.” Her voice trembled just a little.
At another ping from his app, he knew the suspect was nearing the door.
At some point last night, the guy had figured out Silver wasn’t staying at the hotel.
He’d probably easily deduced that she was here at the condo instead.
The guy also had to know she had her EPA with her, which meant he wouldn’t try to enter the condo.
So what did he plan to do?
The image of the stalker showed up again on Dustin’s phone, this time bending down on the front stoop. The app didn’t have the ability to record everything. Instead, it could only capture brief images.
It wasn’t meant to take the place of surveillance, only to enhance it. And in this case, to alert him early enough that he could apprehend the guy.
The trouble was, now that he knew about Silver’s fear of the dark, he couldn’t make her suffer again.
He glanced around and landed upon the half bathroom off the kitchen, which didn’t have an outside window. If she waited in there and turned on the light, that wouldn’t do too much damage, especially since the stalker already suspected she was at the condo.
He reached for her hand and began to tug her upward. “You can wait in the bathroom, close the door, and turn on the light.”
“You’re sure?” She made it to her feet, but he didn’t relinquish her hand and instead guided her toward the bathroom.
Once she was inside, he wasted no more time and sprinted lithely across the condo while unsheathing his gun. He stopped by the front door to listen for a moment, then soundlessly unlocked it and opened it a crack.
As he did so, he caught a glimpse of the same man in his Adidas jacket and baseball cap, racing down the sidewalk toward a waiting car. The guy glanced over his shoulder toward the condo, and at the sight of Dustin, he picked up his pace.
Dustin immediately started running after him. “Stop right there!”
The guy didn’t stop. Of course. The front passenger door pushed open, and someone called from inside. The guy hopped in, and before he could close the door, the vehicle began to speed away.
Dustin pointed his gun at one of the tires. He could cause the tire to lose air almost immediately, but that didn’t mean the car would stop. And without a vehicle to pursue the stalker, he’d lose track of the car—an old Toyota Camry that looked like it was from the 1990s.
No, it was best if he got as much identifying information as possible instead of shooting out the tire.
He quickly flipped his phone forward and started snapping pictures—as many of the vehicle, passenger windows, and the license plate as he could get until the Toyota careened around a corner and disappeared from sight.
Even though the predawn was still dark and the pictures would be difficult to see, Killian and Associates had the technology to scan every detail of the photos.
Hopefully, after running them through the examination, the pictures would provide a little more information on who was behind the stalking.
A couple of things had just become clear, though. The stalker definitely wasn’t working alone. And either he or his accomplice worked at the ranch. There would have been no other way for the stalker to learn where Silver was so quickly if not for being on the inside.
Dustin turned and made his way back to the front door. As he stepped onto the stoop, he halted at the sight of a white envelope—one just like all the others that had been hand delivered.