They hung up while Olive hurried to the front door, but something stopped her halfway. The back of her neck prickled and the sensation of being watched rolled over her body. Catching movement from the corner of her eye, she looked to the right of the front door. The outline of a dark figure showed behind the frosted glass. Something told her this wasn’t the electrician, and the figure was too short and wide to be one of the Mitchell men.
Her stomach bottomed out. On instinct, she skirted behind a clothing rack to shield herself from view and watched with tight breaths as the figure moved in front of the door and appeared to cup hands around their face to peer through the frosted glass window.
Luckily that type of glass wasn’t see-through… but the windows on the side of the building were. The shades were all pulled about halfway, so the person would have to crouch low to get a look inside. As if reading her mind, the figure headed that way, giving Olive a quick view of dirty jeans and the hem of a black jacket that looked like something a man would wear.
Heart pounding, Olive moved around the rack to keep herself hidden while keeping her eyes on the figure.
The ‘Closed for repairs’ sign on the door would have deterred anyone with good intentions. Whoever this was seemed determined to find out who or what was inside. Slowly removing her phone from her pocket, she kept the screen against her chest so the screen light wouldn’t be obvious.
The figure crouched.
Shit!
She ducked lower behind the rack and peeked around the side. The man suddenly righted himself and hurried down the sidewalk in the other direction.
She waited, watching, listening, then cautiously came out of hiding. This was a safe town. She’d never once felt threatened or at risk while working at the boutique. They’d never been broken into or robbed. Crime like that was far and few in Estes Park but she couldn’t shake the sense that she’d just diverted something that could have had a very bad outcome.
For the first time since moving into her precious apartment, Olive was glad she didn’t have to stay.
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
“What’s wrong with you?”
Ryker groaned at his brother’s question while watching the steadily growing crowd inside Donatelle’s Pub. Fox had talked him into coming for a beer, claiming Lulu and Olive wanted alone time to catch up. The pub usually thinned after the dinner rush, but tonight there was a new band playing in the adjoining room, along with half-priced drinks, and the place was packed.
Luckily, they’d found a table where the noise level was tolerable, and they could talk without having to yell.
“Why do you always think something is wrong with me?”
Fox scoffed. “Do I really have to answer that?”
Ryker lifted his beer bottle to his lips. “Funny.”
“You’re preoccupied.”
He shrugged noncommittally. His mind had been all over the place since finding the troublemakers in the park this morning. It bothered him that Cal had uttered the very words Ryker lived by when he was younger. He’d made a calendar when he wasten that counted down the years and months until he turned eighteen and could leave Estes Park. It had stayed hidden under his bed for nearly a year before his mom found it. She’d put it on his mattress with a stack of folded clothes and never asked him about it, never giving him an opening to talk about why he felt the way that he did.
What about Cal? Would someone encourage him to talk about why he was starting fires, or would the kid be left to simmer in anger and resentment? A little voice in his head suggested that he be the one to encourage Cal to release some steam, but what the hell did he know about helping someone through trauma?
Ryker straightened in his chair. Maybe he should talk to Fox about it. If he did, the conversation would likely lead to the topic of Ryker leaving town, and he didn’t have the headspace to deal with that right now. Something else was taking up his mental real estate. When the hell was he going to get Olive out of his head?
He drummed his fingers on the table. Speaking of which, “Thanks for letting Olive stay with you and Lulu. I’m glad she’s safe at your house.”
“I didn’t realize you and Olive are close enough for you to care.”
“We’re not.”
“Then why do you smell like her?”
A retort died on Ryker’s lips as he glanced down at himself and realized he was wearing the same shirt he had on last night when Olive snuggled up to him. He’d changed everything but the shirt since he didn’t have another that was clean. Not that he minded. The fabric smelled like her rich vanilla perfume.
There wasn’t anything he could say that would shut his brother up, so he didn’t respond.
“Busted,” Fox tossed amusedly. “It was a matter of time before the two of you got together.”
“Whatever—why do you say that?”
