“What’s going on?” Jake asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.
Restless, Olivia rose from the couch, needing some space between her and Jake while she tried to work out where to start.
“My father has been leaving me little gifts, mementos of my childhood, for a while now,” she began.
“You’ve been in contact with him?” Jake’s expression darkened.
“No”—she shook her head—“I haven’t. The first time was a couple of weeks ago. He left a doll on my porch during the night.”
“What sort of doll?”
“My doll. Specifically, the one I was holding the night of the fire.” She moved toward the desk and opened the drawer, retrieving the doll and handing it to Jake.
“Jesus, Olive.” He examined it closely. “Is this blood?”
She nodded slowly. “I would imagine that if you had it tested, it would be my mother’s blood.”
“You said gifts?” Jake’s eyes narrowed. “What else?”
He watched as her eyes fell on the little golden puppy chewing on the corner of the rug.
“We found Beau in a box on the porch last night. He was wearing a collar with the name Truman on it.”
Hearing his name, the puppy leaped up and scrambled over to Olivia and tried to climb her leg.
“Beau?”
“I changed his name.” She picked him up and stroked his head as he nuzzled into her, licking her face. “I’m sure you can appreciate why.”
“How is he doing it? I thought you said he couldn’t cross the protection line.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “He shouldn’t be able to, which means either he doesn’t intend me harm, or he’s getting someone else to cross the line and leave things.”
“Is there anything else other than the doll and the puppy?”
“Not at the house.”
“Explain.” Jake scowled with worry.
“Theo and I went into town this morning,” she elaborated. “We needed some supplies for Beau. We went to Baileys’ store and then to the coffee shop. When I got back to my car, it was unlocked, and on my seat was my favorite childhood book, the one my dad used to read to me almost every night. I looked up and there he was, across the street, just standing there looking at me, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. He wasn’t even trying to hide.”
“For God’s sake, Olive.” Jake stood abruptly. “Why the hell didn’t you report it? He’s a convicted felon who’s on the run, and he’s dangerous.”
“There was no point.” She put Beau back down on the floor, watching absently as he ambled over to Theo and began to play tug of war with the hem of his jeans.
“No point?” Jake shouted angrily. “That wasn’t your call to make. You should have reported it immediately.”
“And just who the fuck was I supposed to report it to, Jake?” she snapped back as her temper flared. “The chief of police, who already thinks I’m my father’s protégé? Or maybe I should have told Deputy Walker, who thinks I murdered his brother. Or perhaps I should have tried Deputy Helga, who has been my own personal stalker for weeks now. I could have invited her over and we could’ve painted each other’s toenails while I told her all about my daddy sending me sick little presents designed to remind me of the worst night of my life.”
“You could have told me,” he replied quietly.
“I just did.” She scowled. “But you have no idea what this feels like. To know that the people who are supposed to protect me think I’m a cold-blooded killer. To know that the whole town is whispering behind my back, wondering if I am the same as my dad. To come home shaken up after seeing my father for the first time in twenty years to find my home violated and that shit smeared all over my door. And you think I should go to the police? Well, I’m sorry, Jake, but I don’t trust the police.”
His eyes were dark and hurt. “You can trust me.”
“I do trust you.” She sighed, shaking her head. “But you already said yourself, the chief has you on a tight leash, and you’re operating on limited resources. I do need you to help me figure all this out, but we can’t involve the police department.”
“Fine,” Jake conceded. “Just promise to call me straight away when something happens, not fill me in hours later because I happened to drop by.”
