Captain Nelson answers on the second ring. "Porter. What've you got?"
"Camera in the tree line behind my quarters. Clear view of my back porch. That's where last night's photo was taken." I give him the coordinates. "I need forensics out here now. And I want to know who had access to this area in the past week."
"On it. Don't touch anything." Nelson pauses. "How's Miss O'Rourke?"
"Secure in my quarters." For now. But whoever is doing this knows where she is. Knows where I live. Knows we're together. "This changes the threat assessment. They're escalating."
"Agreed. I'm escalating to full investigation. We're bringing Hutchins in today, warrant or not. This has gone too far."
I end the call and look at Duke, who's still focused on the camera. "Good boy. Let's get back to Andi."
We return to find her dressed in yesterday's clothes, sitting on my couch with her knees pulled up. The protective part of me wants to lock her in here where I can control the environment, but I know Andi well enough to know she'd fight that strategy.
"I found a camera." I lock the door behind me, engaging the deadbolt. "Professional equipment, positioned for clear view of the porch. Forensics is on the way."
"So someone really was watching." Her voice is steady. "They saw everything."
"They saw us sitting on the porch. Nothing more." I cross to the couch, Duke following. "But they know we're together now."
"And?" She looks up at me, direct and challenging. "How does that change anything?"
"It doesn't change my ability to keep you safe." I lean against the back of the couch. "You're safer here on base with me than you were alone in that cottage. But whoever is doing this is getting bolder. The camera, the photo, the message. They're losing control, which makes them more dangerous and more likely to make mistakes."
The knock on my door signals forensics has arrived. Duke's on his feet immediately, alert but not aggressive. I check the peephole. Captain Nelson with a forensics team.
I let them in, and for the next hour, my quarters become a crime scene. They recover and process the camera, dust for prints, document everything. Nelson pulls me aside while they work.
"Hutchins is being brought in for interrogation now. We're going through his phone records, his vehicle, his quarters." Nelson keeps his voice low. "But I'm going to be honest with you, Porter. Without concrete evidence linking him directly to the incidents, we might not be able to hold him long."
"What about the camera?"
"No prints. Positioned with clear knowledge of surveillance blind spots. Professional work." Nelson's jaw tightens. "His lawyer's already crying harassment. Unless we catch him in the act or find definitive proof, we're looking at a release."
The frustration hits like a physical blow. "So he walks."
"For now. But we're building the case. Enough circumstantial evidence will add up." Nelson closes his notebook. "Keep her close, Porter. If Hutchins is released, he might make a move."
The forensics team finishes and leaves, taking the camera as evidence. Nelson promises updates as soon as Hutchins' interrogation is complete. Then it's just Andi, Duke, and me again.
"They might not be able to hold him," I tell her, because she deserves to know. "Not enough concrete evidence."
"So we wait for him to try again?" Her voice is calm, practical. "That's the plan?"
"The plan is keeping you safe while security builds their case." I move to where she's standing by the window. "You stay here today. Let them process the interrogation. Tomorrow we figure out next steps."
"Okay." She turns to face me. "Your bed, not the guest room. We're not pretending last night didn't happen."
"Wasn't planning on it." I pull her close, needing the contact. Reassurance she's here and safe.
She rests her head against my shoulder, and Duke leans against both our legs.
The day passes slowly. I coordinate with my K9 unit via phone and email, review security protocols, check in with Nelson twice for updates on Hutchins' interrogation. Andi works on her laptop, catching up on reports and data analysis she couldn't complete in the field. Normal work, normal routines, pretending we're not waiting for news about whether the man stalking her will be charged or released.
By afternoon, Nelson calls with the update I was dreading. "We had to cut him loose. Insufficient evidence for formal charges. Everything's circumstantial. His lawyer threatened lawsuits if we held him longer."
"When did he walk?" I'm already calculating timelines, threat assessments.
"Fifteen minutes ago. We've got surveillance on him, but Porter—he knows we're watching. If he makes a move, it'll be calculated."
