I push the door open and step into the humid afternoon air, my legs feeling unsteady. I fumble with my key ring, catching a glimpse of my pale reflection in my driver’s side window. Against my better judgment, I glance back at the coffee shop.
He’s standing at the window, watching me. He raises his coffee cup in a mock toast. Still smiling.
Sliding into my seat, I immediately hit the door locks. I'm still shaking, so I carefully place my white mocha in the cup holder before I spill it all over myself.
I start the engine, desperate to get away from him, when something catches my attention in my peripheral vision. Parked directly next to my car—it wasn't there when I arrived, I would've noticed—a black SUV with tinted windows.
The same black SUV from outside the Cozy Cup last week.
My vision narrows. The edges go fuzzy.
The pieces start clicking together. The strange text about the house. The missed calls from unknown numbers. The SUV following me.
Lance "coincidentally" showing up at my coffee shop. Lance didn't just happen to find me.
He's been watching me.
Chapter 6
Sawyer
Idomynormalsweepthroughout Pine Hollows, which takes fifteen minutes even if I'm really trying to kill time. As usual, there isn’t much happening in this town besides a few calls about a loose dog running around and a minor dispute at a gas station. Today I’m riding solo since Chris said he had some paperwork to finish up.
I pull my patrol car into the empty lot directly across from Pine Hollows Community Bank—the same bank where I met Alice. Taking a sip of my lukewarm hot chocolate from the Cozy Cup, I pull out my speed gun to catch anyone who might be pushing the limit.
My thoughts drift to if Alice has had any more trouble with difficult customers. That guy was a real piece of work. I can't imagine dealing with that every day—people's money, people's attitudes.
Of course, the moment I park here, everyone suddenly wants to obey the speed limit. Not that I want to be a hardass, but it gives me something to do.
I'm tracking a Ford Bronco with my speed gun when a black SUV catches my attention. I lower the speed gun.
Heavily tinted windows. Someone inside, just sitting there. The positioning is odd: technically in the bank's lot, but tucked along the road's edge. Facing the bank.
Anyone coming out of the building wouldn't notice the vehicle tucked back there. But whoever's inside has a clear view of everyone entering and leaving.
That's not random.
That's deliberate.
What are they doing there? And how long have they been sitting there?
I’m going to try something.
It’s a long shot, but I set my speed gun on the passenger seat and start the ignition. I pull out of the lot and take the first right, making a wide loop so I can approach from a different angle—maybe get a license plate or a better look at the driver.
But by the time I circle back to where the SUV was parked, it’s gone.
Damn it.
Too obvious. I spooked them. They saw the patrol car and bolted. Could've been teenagers skipping school. Wouldn't be the first time.
But something about the positioning, the way they were watching the bank.
I sit there for a moment, scanning the area. Everything looks normal now.
Still, I can’t shake the feeling that whoever was in that SUV wasn’t there by accident.
My notepad comes out, jotting down the time and location. Black SUV, tinted windows, parked with clear view of bank entrance. No visible license plate. Fled when approached.
