Davis Baldwin.
I wait as the phone connects.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
“You’ve reached Officer Davis Baldwin,” his familiar voice plays through the earpiece as it connects to voicemail.
I hang up and immediately dial the station. The phone rings once before a calm female voice answers.
“Silo Bay Police Department, how may I direct your call?”
“I need Officer Davis Baldwin,” I blurt. “Please, you’ve got to put me through to Davis Baldwin right now.”
There’s a pause. “Ma’am, what’s the nature—”
“Please,” I beg, choking on the word. “Please connect me. He knows me. Knows I’d only call if it were an emergency.”
There’s a longer pause this time, and I hear the telltale signs of typing in the background.
“One moment.”
I press my forehead to the steering wheel before jarring upward, terrified he’s going to jump out and knock on my window at any moment.
“Baldwin,” he answers.
Relief hits so hard I choke on a sob.
“Davis,” I gasp.
“Wren?” Concern laces his voice.
“I-I need. He…He found me.”
“Slow down,” he says, firm but also shockingly calm. “Who found you? Where are you right now?”
“At the cottage, locked inside the truck. I-I found flowers. On the porch.”
Silence.
“Flowers?” he asks, confused at why I’m freaking the fuck out over flowers. “Are they from Jett?”
I shake my head.
“Wren?”
Duh, idiot, he can’t see you shaking your head.
“No. The-they’re from my ex.”
“From Los Angeles? Are you sure?”
“Positive. It’s… It’s bad, Davis. Please, I know I sound insane, but I’m scared.”
“I’ll send someone out—”
