CHAPTER TWO
Simon
“So you haveno idea who put this here, Mr. Edwards? You’re sure?” The police officer—Officer Banks—glanced up from her notebook and raised an arched brow at Patrick.
Simon didn’t like the look on her face and hadn’t appreciated the way she’d questioned him earlier, as if he was a suspect or somehow at fault, and he didn’t like the way she was questioning Patrick, either. The officer hadn’t seemed to believe he and Patrick were just roommates sharing a house, but there was no way Simon was going to let go of Patrick’s hand just because some cop was getting the wrong idea. And a small part of him thought maybe it was a good thing she was thinking of all angles.
Patrick nodded, his grip tight on Simon’s fingers. “Yeah. I’m sure. I’ve haven’t got a clue how the letter arrived here or where it came from.”
“No jilted lovers?” The cop was following procedure, and Simon understood she needed to ask the questions, but her tone was… just wrong.
“Jilted lovers?” Patrick’s voice shook and Simon wanted to reach out and place a reassuring arm around Patrick’s shoulders, to pull him into a tight hug, but given the cop’s attitude, he held back. Hand holding would have to be enough.
“Yeah. Spurned boyfriends. A hookup that may have got the wrong idea.” Her eyebrow arched again as she waited for his answer, her pen hovering over the notebook.
Again, Patrick shook his head in denial. “No. There’s no one.”
Simon knew Patrick was telling the truth. In the six months they’d been sharing a house, Patrick hadn’t brought a single guy home, at least not to Simon’s knowledge, and Simon thought there was a good chance he’d be aware. Simon hadn’t known Patrick to go back to anyone’s place, either. In fact, Patrick was rather quiet and definitely not a party animal, something that appealed to Simon. He was attracted—not that he’d told Patrick—to the man’s gentle nature and even found his constant fuckups endearing. Misadventure had a habit of following Patrick around, and he was forever getting into some kind of trouble.
The squeeze of Patrick’s hand pulled Simon from his reverie. While Simon had been lost in his thoughts of Patrick, Patrick had obviously continued to respond to the questions asked by Officer Banks, his answers captured in the notebook. Finally, she snapped the book shut. “Well, let’s take a look, shall we? See what all the fuss is about.”
Her partner, a dark-haired man, pulled on a pair of latex gloves and prepared to pick up the letter.
“I already know what it will say,” Patrick said. “I told you. It won’t be threatening. Just a sort of love letter.” Simon could sense Patrick’s expectation of being brushed off.
The other cop seemed to pick up on Patrick’s doubt, and smiled reassuringly. “There’s a number of things we need to consider. Not only the contents of the letter and how it got here, but the intent of the author.” The cop retrieved the envelope from the bed and lifted the flap. He pulled out the single sheet of paper, unfolded it, and studied it for a moment before looking at Patrick. “You’re right. Just a short message. The writer says how much they’re looking forward to seeing you soon.”
“No threat then?” Officer Banks asked.
“No, at least not directly,” he agreed somewhat grudgingly before putting the envelope and the letter into a Ziploc bag. “But that’s not to say it’s perfectly innocent.” The cop looked at Patrick as he spoke. “From what you’ve said, the person may not have bad intentions. Then again, maybe they do. It seems very strange behavior, leaving four letters over as many months. And the break-in—”
“Ifit was a break-in,” the other cop interrupted.
“Um. Yes. But if it was a break-in, it seems to be a change to the pattern. It could indicate escalation. There’s probably not a lot we can do about it right now, but I’ll take the letter into evidence and see what we can find. Did you keep the others?”
Patrick reluctantly shook his head. “No. There didn’t seem any point. The first one I dismissed and threw it away without really thinking about it, but when the other two arrived, they seemed weird and I wanted to get rid of them as soon as possible.”
“Well, if any more arrive, I’d suggest handling them as little as possible. Use a glove or similar if you need to pick it up, then put it in a plastic bag and call the station. Or ideally leave the letter and the whole area untouched. I’ll give you my details.”
“Thanks. Officer Mallory, wasn’t it?” Patrick asked. Simon could see the relief etched on his features that this cop had taken him seriously.
The guy passed over a card. “I’d also suggest being hypervigilant. Keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Make sure you keep the place locked up, and maybe even consider changing the locks. Be mindful of strangers. Take care going to and from work, as well.”
“Like any normal person would do anyway,” Officer Banks said, and Officer Mallory flashed her a look.
“Yes, personal and household security should always be at the forefront. But no unnecessary risks, Mr. Edwards. There’s no point putting yourself in harm’s way if you can help it. I’d also suggest you give some more thought to who it might be.”
“I’ve told you, I’ve got no idea.” The frustration was evident in Patrick’s tone, and Simon longed to pull him into a hug, to calm him and offer him support.
Officer Banks opened her mouth to speak.
“I’ll make sure he follows through on all your suggestions, Officer,” Simon said in a rush, finally joining the conversation and putting a stop to anything Officer Banks was going to say. It wouldn’t have surprised Simon if she had wanted to give Patrick more of a hard time. Empathy didn’t seem her strong suit.
Officer Mallory nodded and, with a tilt of his head to Simon and a smile for Patrick, left the room, followed by his partner. Simon trailed after them, escorting both officers from the house before returning to Patrick’s bedroom. He found him standing in exactly the same position, gaze fixed on the now empty pillow where the envelope had previously rested.
“Patrick?” Simon spoke softly from the doorway so as not to startle his friend.
Patrick spun around. “Don’t.” He put up a hand. Any words Simon was going to utter, fled. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
