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“No, I can’t. I have to head home. See you tomorrow.”
“After someone took a picture from inside your house? I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“I checked the app. No one went in or out.” She gathered items and shoved them into her purse. “The video feed didn’t pick anyone up at the doors. Just the cop sitting in my driveway.”
“I’ll take you home.”
“No.”
“Glad to see this hasn’t shaken your stubborn streak.”
Bailey offered the slightest smile as she shoved her laptop into a backpack. “If I were in physical danger, then no one would mail me threats. They just want me to stop searching for who they are.”
“That’s ridiculously naïve.”
“And stubborn, like you said, but that’s where we are, Mr. Grudge Holder.”
She had him there. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Text me when you get home.”
“Would you like the police officer with the gun and badge to send you periodic updates as well?” she asked, shoving a file folder and a notebook into her backpack.
“I would like to know you’re safe.”
Bailey swung her backpack on and tugged her purse strap over her head. She squeezed his arm as she hurried by. “Lock up behind you when you leave.”
“Bailey.”
She turned at the door. “I’ll text you when I get home. Promise I’ll be safe.”
This woman drove him crazy.
He stared at the door long after she left, then sat down at the conference table. Too bad there wasn’t a centralized database of criminals’ souvenirs—but Dean Whitlow could figure out anything if the information was stored online.
Chapter Five
Bailey pulled alongside the police car tucked to the side of her driveway. Both vehicles rolled down their windows, and the officer behind the wheel greeted her with a short wave. “Ms. Cosgrove.”
“I hope you had a boring day,” she said.
“That’s what I wanted, and exactly what I got.” He leaned forward and peered into the backseat of Bailey’s Jeep. “Did you have fun at camp today, Matt?”
Her son still hadn’t warmed to the rotation of police officers, but his camp counselor said he’d told everyone in his group about the police cars. Matt kicked his legs as he did when he was fighting nerves. “Uh-huh.”
“They made slime,” Bailey supplied. “That’ll be fun to get out of everything.”
“Mine’s brown.” Matt held up his bag of brown glittery slime.
The officer chuckled. “Have fun with that.”
“Did you see anyone today?” she asked. “People selling stuff door to door? Trying to convert me to a different religion? Anything like that?”
The officer shook his head. “Not a peep from anyone.”
“Thanks for keeping a lookout.” She eased into the carport and killed the engine. “What do you want to do this afternoon—hey, Matty, what’s that look?”
His lower lip stuck out. “Mary Ellen said she has two police cars at her house. But I think she’s lying.”
Bailey tried to hide her smile. “You never know.”
