“Please, Reid. I-I’m not sure what else to do.” This felt less like a conversation and more like an interview I was failing. But even with the hesitation rolling off him, sympathy still shone in his eyes. His entire face was soft with it.
“I’ve never dealt with a catnapping before.”
Despite my misery over the situation, a clipped laugh escaped my lips. “Neither have I. I’d be willing to bet that most sane people have never had to deal with a catnapping in their entire lives.”
His lip quirked up. “Fair point.”
“But it’s the unfortunate card I’ve been dealt,” I said, sliding my coffee to the end of the table by the window to present my folder. “Here, let me just show you all the facts and then you can decide if you can help me or not. This person is obviously an amateur, I bet they left tons of clues and mistakes behind—shit.” I stopped mid-sentence as the folder tumbled off the table, knocked loose by my over-eager slide.
I bent forward to collect the papers that had scattered across the floor. Reid got out from the booth and crouched down, grabbing the ones that had drifted too far out of reach. He held up a particularly cute shot of Vermont, staring at it as he righted himself.
“Why did you bring a folder?” he asked, studying the papers I’d brought—a mix of pictures as well as a print-out of the text thread with the assailant. Yes, I was choosing to call them an assailant. They were, after all, assailing my life.
“Oh, I don’t know. It felt very private investigator.”
He handed me back the papers, and I spread them out on the table between us.
“Did you go to a store specifically to buy it?” he asked.
“I mean…yes.” Maybe I should feel silly that I had, in fact, gone to the dollar store the night prior with the intention of purchasing this folder—and the candy that had practically fallen into my basket. But the trip had given me a purpose in an otherwise out-of-control period in my life. Errands didn’t always have to be necessary to be useful; like buying a candle just for the vibes, or stopping at a library to see the new releases.
“Why didn’t you get one with pockets? This is for a filing cabinet.” Damn. Ruby wasn’t kidding when she said Reid had an attention for detail.
“This one looked the most official,” I said.
The embarrassment that sat lightly on my chest lifted a little when I saw the corner of his mouth twitch up.
“You’re right, it does look official. But I have to tell you, it’s called internet sleuthing for a reason. Most everything is done online nowadays.”
“I know, I know. I’m aware of the current century. I just wanted to bring anything that could be helpful.”
“This is the cat?” Reid asked, holding up another picture, one of Vermont splayed out on my grandmother’s lap. I’d felt a pang of guilt when I realized that almost every picture I hadof Vermont was either taken by Gran or sent to me by her. But in my defense, I’d only gotten him a few weeks ago.
“Vermont,” I confirmed, shoving another picture in his direction.
“Why Vermont?”
“I don’t know? It’s cute? My Grandma loved Ben & Jerry’s? Does a pet’s name have to be that deep?”
He chuckled. “I like it.”
“He’s honestly an overly friendly cat—like, literally loves everyone—so I’m not even surprised he just waltzed up to some stranger.”
Reid nodded and picked up another picture. “This your grandma?” he asked.
“Yep.” I froze, hoping there wouldn’t be any follow-up questions. Not because I hated talking about her. The opposite, in fact. I just didn’t want to start crying in front of a virtual stranger at seven a.m. in some random diner.
“And here are the texts.” I handed him the printout of the exchange.
He took the paper in his long fingers. He lifted his glasses up to scan the thread, a line creasing his forehead as he read. I could tell the moment he absorbed it because his eyebrows shot up.
“Forty thousand dollars? Holy shit.”
“I know.”
“Can’t you just tell them you don’t have that? Why did you say you’d need thirty days?” he asked, poking my response to the threatening message.
“Because that’s how long the lottery winnings will take to process.”
