They escalate.
And if Lance thinks he can sit outside Alice’s work, watching her like prey, he’s about to learn what happens when you stalk someone in this town.
Time to make sure he knows exactly who he’s dealing with.
Chapter 21
Alice
Thismorningstartswrongwhen my car pulls to the right as I’m driving to work. By the time I get to the first stop sign, I can tell something’s definitely off. The steering feels weird and there’s a flapping sound coming from the front.
I pull over to the side of the road and get out to look. My front right tire is completely flat.
Great. Just great.Of course this would happen today, when I’m already running behind and can’t afford any more stress.
I’m standing there staring at the tire when I remember Sawyer telling me to call if I need anything. I pull out my phone and text him, adjusting my glasses nervously as I type.
Me: Hey I have a flat tire on Maple Street. Any chance you’re working today?
His response comes quickly.
Sawyer: On my way.
Ten minutes later, Sawyer’s patrol car pulls up behind me, hazards flashing.
“Everything okay?” he asks, getting out.
“I have a flat and no clue how to change it.” I push my glasses up my nose, feeling helpless and annoyed with myself for not learning something so basic.
“Let me take a look.” He walks around to examine the tire. “Yeah, it’s completely flat. When’s the last time you checked your spare?”
“Um… Never?”
He pops the trunk and starts pulling out the jack and spare tire. “Good news is your spare looks fine. Bad news is you’re going to be late for work.”
“I’ll call Nora and let her know.” I pull out my phone while Sawyer gets the jack set up.
“Alice? Where are you?” Nora answers on the second ring.
“I have a flat so I’m probably going to be late.”
“Take your time. Megan can cover for you until you get here.”
I hang up and watch Sawyer work. He’s loosening the lug nuts, sleeves rolled up, completely focused on the task. There’s something reassuring about having someone who actually knows what they’re doing handle this. Someone I can rely on.
He lifts the car with the jack and starts removing the flat tire. That’s when he stops.
“Ali, come here for a second.”
Something in his voice makes me nervous. It’s too careful, too controlled. “What?”
"Did you know this was on your car?" He's crouched down by the wheel, pointing at something small and black attached behind the tire.
I lean down to look, adjusting my glasses to see better. "What is it?"
"GPS tracker." His voice is calm, but his jaw is tight. "Someone's been tracking your movements."
The world tilts. I have to grab the car to steady myself.
