Chapter 8 #2
“Anything larger than a cat,” he confirmed. “Animals, people, anything that generates body heat and movement.”
“That’s going to make me feel a lot safer,” she admitted. “Thank you, Mitch. Really.”
He climbed down the ladder and tested the sensor, walking through its range until the light blazed on. Perfect. Now he’d know if anyone approached Seabird Cottage from the back, at least.
“All set,” he said. “One more thing, though. Do you have my number programmed into your phone?”
“I don’t think so,” Lori said, pulling out her phone.
He rattled off his number, watching while she saved it. “If anything makes you uncomfortable, if you see anything unusual, if you just feel off about something, you call me. Day or night. It doesn’t matter. You call.”
“I will,” she promised, and the gratitude in her eyes made him want to pull her into his arms and promise her she’d be safe. That he’d make sure of it.
“Good,” he said instead. “Now, can I interest you in a beer? Sunset’s in an hour, and the view from my porch is better than yours.”
She laughed. “Is that so?”
“Come see for yourself.” Mitch smiled.
They ended up on his porch with cold beers and a bowl of pretzels Piper had left out.
The conversation flowed easily, moving from topic to topic without effort.
Lori told him about Tessa’s upcoming visit and how relieved she was to have someone from her old life coming.
Mitch told her about Piper’s preparations for her magic act, how their living room was currently full of props and practice materials.
The sun sank toward the horizon, painting everything gold and orange.
Lori had kicked off her sandals and tucked her feet under her on the chair, completely relaxed.
Her hair caught the light, and Mitch found himself staring at the curve of her neck, the line of her jaw, the way her eyes reflected the sunset colors.
“This is nice,” she said softly. “This whole summer has been nice. Necessary, I think. I didn’t realize how much I needed to step away from my regular life until I did it.”
“Sometimes we need distance to see things clearly,” Mitch said.
“Is that what you did? When you retired? Stepped away to see things clearly?” Lori watched him.
“Something like that,” Mitch said. “I’d been doing the same work for thirty years. It defined me. When I stopped, I had to figure out who I was without it.”
“And who are you?” Lori asked, turning to look at him fully.
“Still figuring that out,” Mitch admitted. “But I think I’m closer than I was.”
Lori smiled, and something in that smile made Mitch’s resolve crumble. He set down his beer and leaned forward, drawn to her like gravity. Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned toward him too, closing the distance between them.
Her lips were inches from his when his phone alarm went off, loud and jarring in the quiet evening.
They both jumped. Mitch grabbed his phone and silenced the alarm, cursing internally. Piper. He’d set a reminder to pick her up from Emma’s house at seven.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I need to get Piper.”
“Of course,” Lori said, standing quickly, smoothing her dress. “I should go anyway. Let you have your evening with her.”
“Lori,” he started, not sure what he wanted to say but feeling like he needed to say something.
“It’s fine,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you for the beer. And for the motion sensor. I really appreciate it.”
She left before he could find the right words, and Mitch sat there for a moment, watching her walk back to Seabird Cottage. Misty appeared from somewhere and trotted beside her, and Mitch waited until they were safely inside before heading to his truck.
He picked up Piper, listened to her chatter about the movie they’d watched, and drove home on autopilot. His mind was full of Lori, of what might have happened if that alarm hadn’t gone off, of the way his entire body had responded to her proximity.
After Piper went to bed, Mitch sat on his porch again, staring at the dark ocean. The light he’d installed at Seabird Cottage cast a small pool of illumination near the back door. Nothing moved in its range. Everything seemed quiet.
Then his phone rang.
The number on the screen made his heart stop. He hadn’t seen that number in two years. Not since he’d officially retired and cut most of his ties to the agency.
Marcus Chen. One of the few people who knew exactly what Mitch had done for three decades. One of the few people he still trusted completely.
Mitch answered. “Hello, Marcus.”
“Mitch.” Marcus’s voice was exactly as he remembered. Calm, precise, with an undercurrent of dry humor. “It’s been a while.”
“Two years,” Mitch confirmed. “What’s going on?”
“That partial plate you asked me to run. The one from the sedan that’s been circling your neighborhood.” Marcus paused. “It came back to a rental car agency. But not just any agency. It’s one of those discreet companies that are popping up in major cities. You know the kind I mean.”
Mitch’s blood ran cold. He knew exactly what Marcus meant. Companies that rented vehicles with minimal paperwork, accepting cash, and asking no questions. Companies that catered to a very specific clientele.
“Go on,” he said quietly.
Marcus’s voice dropped lower. “I did some digging. That particular car agency has a reputation. They’re used almost exclusively by government contractors. Security firms that rent out the kind of operators who need to move around without leaving a paper trail.”
“You’re saying whoever’s driving that car is a professional,” Mitch said flatly.
“I’m saying whoever’s driving that car knows how to stay off the grid.
And they’re using resources that aren’t available to your average private investigator or curious ex-boyfriend.
” Marcus paused. “I can dig deeper if you need me to. Get into their database, find out who actually rented the vehicle. But that’s going to leave footprints, Mitch.
If someone notices, they’ll know someone’s looking. ”
“Don’t do it yet,” Mitch said. “Let me think about this.”
“What’s going on out there?” Marcus asked. “You said you were retired. Living the quiet life. This doesn’t sound quiet.”
“It’s not,” Mitch admitted. “But I’m not sure yet if it’s about me or about someone else.”
“Someone else being the attractive widow who moved in next door?” Marcus’s tone held a hint of amusement. “Yeah, I did my homework before I called. Lori Carlton. Friend of your neighbor Carrie Ware. Police Chief who took down a corrupt judge and got shot for her trouble.”
“You’ve been busy,” Mitch said dryly.
“I like to know what I’m walking into. So which is it? Is this car connected to one of your old cases? Someone finally tracking you down after all these years? Or is it connected to the new neighbor?” Marcus asked.
That was the question that had been eating at Mitch. The timing was too perfect to be coincidence. The sedan had appeared around the same time Lori arrived. The man in the tan windbreaker had started asking questions about Pelican Bay addresses after she moved in.
But why? What would Lori have done to attract the attention of a professional surveillance operative? She was a widow from Florida. A widow living a quiet life. She had no connection to his world, no reason to be on anyone’s radar.
Unless it wasn’t about her and it was about him, and they were mistaking Lori for Carrie. Having a police officer next door to Mitch would raise red flags for anyone trying to get to him.
“I don’t know yet,” Mitch said. “But I need to find out. And Marcus? Keep this between us for now.”
“I always do,” Marcus said. “But Mitch? If this is one of your old ghosts coming back, you need to be careful. You’ve got a kid to think about.”
“I know,” Mitch said quietly.
They hung up, and Mitch sat in the darkness, his mind racing. That rental car company. He’d used it himself three times during his active years. Always when he needed a vehicle that couldn’t be traced back to him. Always for operations that required complete deniability.
Someone with that level of operational awareness was watching Pelican Bay.
The question that filled him with dread wasn’t just who or why. It was unclear whether this threat came from his past or had followed Lori here. And if it was his past, if somehow his years in the shadows had finally caught up to him, was he putting everyone he cared about in danger by staying?
Piper. Lori. Even Carrie, when she came back from Florida.
He looked at Seabird Cottage, at the lights glowing warm in the windows. Lori was in there, probably getting ready for bed, thinking she was safe. Thinking the motion sensor and locked doors would protect her.
But Mitch knew better. He knew exactly what kind of threat they were facing. The kind that didn’t stop until it got what it wanted.
And he had no idea yet what that was.