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Technically, I haven't. But the dog and I have made eye contact.

Another message from her arrives.

Chaos: He needs a wardrobe.

Me: He's a dog.

Chaos: Exactly. He can't shop for himself.

I shake my head.

Me: I'm working.

The response takes longer this time.

Chaos: So? You were answering me. Why is it a problem now?

Fuck. She’s sassy.

I like it.

Me: Because I need to focus on my job.

Chaos: You didn't say you were working before. You said you were busy. With things.

I stare at the message.

I should know better. She pays attention to me.

Chaos: What are you working on?

Me: Stuff.

Chaos: Helpful.

I put the phone down.

It vibrates almost immediately.

I don't look.

Instead, I watch Mercer head toward Hollow Creek.

I follow, keeping a careful distance.

The familiar scenery of Hollow Creek comes into view too quickly.

I remind myself it’s only temporary.

Mercer parks on Main Street, gets out of his vehicle, and starts walking.

I get out of my truck and pull my ball cap lower, my attention sharpening. I watch him pass the bookstore, restaurants, a thrift store, and a boutique.

People go about their business, walking down the sidewalk, going in and out of stores and restaurants.

Mercer stops outside a real estate office and looks through the window. Then keeps walking.

He’s almost to Bramble & Bean.