“A problem?” I ask him. Knowing that I am egging him on. He is picking his way through the stone walkway in the front yard and scanning the area. I follow him out to the SUV and wait while he opens the hatch.
“Yes, you are so screwed. That girl has you all tied up. Not that I can blame you. She is cute as a button and fiery,” he goes on. “She is going to give you a run for your money, but you aren’t too old for the chase,” he states knowingly.
Holt and I have always been close. Surviving our childhood required it. We know each other too well. Usually it is useful. Sometimes that shit gets old.
“I mean, I’m all for it— it’s about time you kept someone around for longer than a night,” he continued.
“Shut the fuck up, you are one to talk,” I bite out. He is right of course, I just don’t know how to vocalize it without sounding like a little bitch. I run a hand through my hair and let out a breath.
“Look, I decided I was just going to go with this. I’ve known her for less than 24 hours— but I don’t care. She is mine, she just doesn’t know it yet,” I know I sound like a caveman, but I don’t know how else to say it.
“Do you think you will tell her soon, and if so please let me know when— I want to be around to watch her implode,” Holt chuckles as he says that last bit. I decide to ignore the implode part, and just answer the question.
“I’m trying to ease into this situation—she is a bit jumpy—and I don’t think she realizes what this is,” I state as I am going through the box grabbing a flashlight and a couple of other things. Holt goes serious all of a sudden and looks at me.
“I would say you are right, she doesn’t realize. You will have to tell her eventually. You know, she may need you to spell it out. She isn’t dumb— far from it, but she does seem to be oblivious to her level of attractiveness,” he says insightfully. I’m a bit blown away.
“Jesus, where the hell did that come from,” I ask, still in shock. He shrugs and looks down into his own box grabbing another small flashlight and shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Hell if I know,” he jokes. I should give Holt more credit. He has always been perceptive. It is what makes him excel at his job. He analyzes people and sizes them up pretty quickly. I have always admired his ability to read people. I am okay at it, but he is superior. I just won’t tell him that. His head won’t fit through the door on the way back to the cabin.
“You are right though, she doesn’t seem like the type to knowingly get into shit she shouldn’t,” he goes on. “I think she genuinely has no idea what is going on and why.”
“I agree with you, she is in denial about this situation. I can’t decide if it is a defense mechanism or that she can’t believe she would be a target,” I say.
Holt shuts the trunk of the SUV. “My guess would be a bit of both,” he surmises. He turns to go to the carport and I follow. Usually when we do perimeter checks we stick together. You never know what or who you will run into. Aside from bad people, the bear population in Western North Carolina wasn’t to be messed with.
I flip the light switch so that it illuminates the area and we look around. There is an enclosed area with a bike lock on it. I make a mental note to ask her for the key. The gap underneath the door is a bit too wide for my liking. It is a good hiding spot.
Holt reads my mind and crouches down looking underneath. He shakes his head and we move to the backyard. The deck off the back of the house is large and is surrounded by tall shrubbery. Another potential hiding spot. We weave in and out checking sporadically. The basement laundry room meets us at the end.
Twisting the knob, I find it unlocked and curse. “Guess we will have to review Safety 101 with her,” Holt comments drily. I quirk my eyebrow at him and nod. We take a look in the small room. There isn’t much to see. Holt looks behind the dryer and the hot water tank. Seeing nothing he gives the all clear nod. He pauses and looks at the suspended ceiling above.
I raise my hand above my head and gently push. The ceiling tile moves. Shuffling it back I stand on the ledge and look inside the ceiling. There is enough room for someone to hide, but it would be pretty difficult. Satisfied, I pull the tile back into place and hop down.
Holt heads out and I follow. He takes a quick left to start inspecting the side of the house. I fan out a bit further and shuffle through the yard. This place is a jungle. It has a certain charm, but it is a security nightmare.
“Well, we have our work cut out for us here. It is a good thing you called. We don’t know what or who we are up against yet,” Holt runs a hand through his hair.
“We may have something to go on,” I say as I make my way to the front of the house. Holt is behind me.
“Along with a hand delivered note, they also sent her a threatening e-mail. Maybe Carter can trace it back,” I say.
“Hand delivered where,” Holt’s voice starts to rise. I can tell he is getting pissed. He never liked a bully. Never mind one that harassed a woman.
“She found it in her office this morning after I dropped her off. The son of a bitch slid it under her office door,” I explain in a low tone. I don’t want her to hear us and think she needs to worry more than she already is.
“I’ll get Carter on the e-mail ASAP, maybe we can end this before it really begins,” Holt states simply as he heads toward the front door of the house. “Hopefully he is almost done with her background check.”
I follow behind and look up at the windows. Someone would need a ladder to get through those. Of course, the other side of the house is a different story. Scowling, we enter the kitchen again. I pull my jacket off and hang it on one of hooks by the door. Holt does the same. We can hear Meg having a conversation in the living room.
“Piper, get a grip okay— there is nothing going on. I have to go but I’ll text you later…I swear,” Meg sighs and seems to hang up the phone.
Holt looks at me and raises his eyebrow again. I shrug as I head towards the living room. “We checked outside. Everything seems to be fine for now. I need the key for the lock in the carport, I want to check in there in the morning.” I explain as I sit down. She nods.
“The key is hanging on the hook by the refrigerator,” she shrugs and gets up. Looking at her smartwatch she sighs. It is almost 10:00 at night, and I can almost see the wheels turning in her mind. She is wondering how the sleeping arrangements are going to go tonight. Deciding to take pity on her I call out to Holt.
“Hey man, what time will you be here tomorrow to help me install the camera system,” I look over at her as I ask to gauge her reaction.
