With no results.
The perp had been smart. He’d covered himself, head to toe in black, and had kept his face down so that even his eyes—the only thing that would have been visible behind his ski mask—were never caught on surveillance
Very frustrating.
Julian had spent that night on the sibling’s couch, and the next morning had begun the power struggle with Statler again, over where Petula would be staying.
Nothing had been resolved by the time Julian left to attend the closing on his new property, because Petula had eventuallyemerged from her bedroom, still looking a little rough around the edges.
Julian and Stat had put their contentiousness on hold in order to spare her any additional angst, but Julian knew they’d be getting back into it, sooner, rather than later.
Still, Julian hadn’t hesitated to tweak the man’s tail.
While Statler was hanging around after breakfast, puckering his lips in rebuke, Julian had questioned Petula at length about her favorite colors, how big she liked her TVs, and what she preferred for furniture styles. He’d taken copious notes, which had amused her to no end, but had pissed Statler off.
Petula had cheerfullyover-engaged, even taunting her brother when his disgruntlement became over-the-top, palpable.
“I’ve always thought this kitchen was too dark,” she speculated with a gleam in her eyes. “Who has deep gray walls like this?” She waved an arm at the gorgeous coloring.
Julian knew, full-well, that during the kitchen reno that had obviously been done, she’d probably picked out the hue.
“But, you know,” she’d shaken her head, mock-regretfully, “Statler doesn’t cook, so he’s never thought about it. I, however, have to work in here every night, and something brighter would have been nice.”
Julian had snickered under his breath, but had also taken note of her mock-complaint while Statler scowled even harder.
Jules had vowed he would make his kitchen, and all the other rooms in the house, as bright as possible for Petula.
The real estate closing, an hour or so later, had gone smoothly, thank god. And as soon as Julian had his new keys in hand, he’d mobilized his entire family to get the place Petula-ready.
His brothers, with hands-on instruction from Tabitha, had installed the best-of-the-best available surveillance and alarmsystems. While his mother—with three of his sisters-in-law in tow, and two on deck awaiting their turns—had taken Julian’s list, determined not only to fill it within a few hours, but to have those purchases delivered that afternoon.
If anyone could sweet talk the furniture stores into same-day delivery, it would be the Sothard ladies. God help any salesperson who went up against them. The poor, commission-based associate would find themselves out of a sale if the phalanx of women moved on to alternative spots for their purchases.
Julian had headed back to Petula and Statler’s to eventually reengage with Stat, determined to have Petula under his roof by tomorrow at the latest. He’d been more than ready to go back into battle with her brother to get his way, but after a brief discussion, they’d called a mutual, but short, moratorium.
The rest of the day and evening had passed quickly. Petula had napped sporadically on the couch, while Julian had made himself useful by helping Stat in his work-shed, sorting tools and stock that the man would be bringing with him to his next job which he’d finally had confirmed, and would be starting up north in mid-April or early May.
That signed contract was part of Julian’s bargaining power. There were only a few weeks left until Statler and his crew left to relocate for an untold number of months, which meant solving the issue of Jefferson—who they were now pretty sure was the stalker—was first on everyone’s agenda. Keeping Petula safe, of course, would eventually land on Julian’s shoulders if they couldn’t take care of the problem before Stat left.
Statler had already agreed, somewhat reluctantly even though he had no other options, that Petulawouldstay with Julian if Jefferson was yet to be found before he and his crew departed.
Of course, Statler agreed. What choice did he have?
But it still burnt Julian’s ass. Somehow, in the interim, Julian wasn’t considered good enough to protect her?
Bullshit.
Julian, after letting the issue ride for the balance of the day and evening, vowed that he’d pick up the gauntlet again in the morning, and wouldn’t be giving up until he got his way.
As it turned out, Julian need not have fussed.
Arising early from the somewhat uncomfortable couch where he’d been crashing, Julian had just finished making coffee in the kitchen that,yeah, was a little dark, when Statler stumbled in, grabbed a cup, and filled it to the brim.
Julian hid his grin.
For a guy who was on-the-ball, alert, and ultimately in charge, Statler wasnota morning person, Julian had discovered. The man was monosyllabic, and downright grumpy before coffee. But even that taciturn puss wasn’t going to keep Julian from engaging this morning.
“So, my family finished up my house yesterday,” he began blandly. “It’ll need interior paint once we decide on colors, but surveillance is up and running, and all the furniture has been delivered. Set up, too. Right down to my amazing relatives making the beds.”
