He could feel her studying him. He could practically hear gears in her head turning, deciding what question to ask next. If she wasn’t such an odd little thing, she’d probably make a good detective.
But he didn’t want to be studied, asked or figured out. So he went on the offensive.
“Why’d you agree to this, Franny?”
She looked hard at the road in front of them, or maybe that sunrise she thought was so different in Wyoming. “I watched Albennie get shoved into that car. I watched and I didn’t do anything.” She didn’t say it with a hitch to her voice. She was very firm, very matter-of-fact. “Now it’s been days, and nothing Ididdo has helped find her or bring her home. So, if I can do something, even if it’s scary or a bit dangerous, I’m going to do it.”
He understood, better than most people, what it felt like to witness terrible things, and to have no recourse. He’d spent a lot of time blaming himself pretty hard for that, but Franny shouldn’t. She was just…a good person. Anormalperson. Not like him. “What could you have done?” he asked gently, because he wanted her to really think about that.
Sometimes bad things happened, and no matter what youwanted, there was no way to fix that.
“I don’t know,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “Maybe nothing. But now Icando something. So I’m going to do it.”
Despite her clasped hands, the exhaustion written plain on her face, she said that with conviction.
“And I’m going to keep you safe while you do,” he promised.
Becausethiswas why he’d let Brooke talk him into the police academy.Protectingwas why he was here.
He wasn’t about to fail at that.
Chapter Twelve
Franny felt like she was in a movie. Mr. Simmons and his partner, a man he’d introduced as Cam Delaney, were doing all sorts of things to her apartment that felt more suited for a spy.
They’d already done most of it by the time Royal walked her up to her apartment, and Mr. Simmons gave her the rundown while Mr. Delaney finished up.
“As you know, there was already a security system in place, but we beefed it up. Now, do you know what the first step to any security system being successful is?” Mr. Simmons asked her.
She blinked at him—not sure if it was ignorance or exhaustion that made her mind completely blank.
“Turning it on,” he finished—some censure in his tone, but it wasn’t unkind.
“I do! Before I go to bed.” When he raised an eyebrow, she wrinkled her nose. “I just hadn’t gone to bed yet last night.”
“Now you turn it on at all times, even if you’re inside and awake. We’ve made the doorbell camera more sensitive, and we’re going to connect it not just to your phone but to Deputy Campbell’s as well. On top of that, we’ve added another camera—this one hidden—that encompasses the entire doorway and stairway. All video will be available to Deputy Campbell and the sheriff—in real time, and as video later on. Should they decide they want to add anyone else who can access that, that’ll be up to them, but they’ll have to disclose that information to you.”
Right. Cameras. Security. All for her safety.
“You’ve got a camera set up in this living area,” Mr. Simmons continued, pointing to a little square on the top of her bookshelf that she barely noticed. “It will pick up sound. Obviously for privacy we’ve left any equipment out of the bedroom and bathroom, but we’ve added cameras on the outside of the building at each window point, and more sensitivity to the window alarms. I went ahead and bolted the bathroom window shut, as that seemed the best security option there. All alarms will be connected to the deputy’s phone, so that he can respond as needed. Deputy, I’ll need your phone to program that real quick.”
“Sure,” Royal said, fishing the phone out of his pocket and handing it over to Mr. Simmons.
Cameras. In her house. It was for her safety, but the idea of Royal and the sheriff being able to watch her, like, cookdinnerwas not exactly one she relished. Still, she had to admit it would give her a certain level of reassurance no one was trying to get in her door—and if theywere, someone would stop them before it happened.
“It’s a lot, and it’s going to feel awkward. I don’t think anyone expects this to be easy or feel normal,” Mr. Simmons said, frowning at Royal’s phone as his fingers moved across the screen.
“If it might help catch whoever has Albennie or took her, then I don’t care how it feels,” Franny replied, happy she sounded surer of that than she was.
Mr. Simmons smiled warmly as he handed Royal his phone back. “Good. Now there is one more thing. This one is optional. Up to you and Deputy Campbell here.” He pulled out two cases. They looked like earbud cases.
“These are a bit like a walkie-talkie, in layman’s terms. Let’s say Ms. Perkins heads down to the bakery while Deputy Campbell is driving out to the Temperance Ranch for adisturbance call. You both have one of these in your ears, and you can talk to each other—and only each other—without anyone having to know that’s what you’re doing. They’re small. They’re wired to only each other. How and when you’d want to use them are up to you, but it’d give you a direct line to each other if you need that.”
He handed them out and Royal and Franny had no choice but to each take one.
“I’m going to go do one last sight check on the outside cameras. Call if you need anything, including tech support. Franny? You set that system once Deputy Campbell leaves.”
Franny nodded, looking at the little case in her hands. It was like being a spy, except all of her privacy was being invaded. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—complain about that. She knew what she was doing it for.
