No. No cars stopped by. Just a bunch of kids in costumes, going door-to-door.
Nick
How’s that possible?
Brody
Not sure. Contact the security company to review the footage from sunrise to the present.
Julie sinks into the couch as I close the door, leaving the flowers where they are. Her knuckles are white around her coffee mug. “He knows I’m home.”
“I’m calling the police,” I tell her.
She shakes her head. “What if this never ends? What if Craig stays lurking in the shadows?”
I drop to my knees in front of her and take her face in my hands so she has no choice but to look at me. “This will not last forever. I promise. Craig’s showing signs of desperation, and desperation means he’ll make mistakes. It’s a cycle, and we’re nearing its end. I’ve seen this too much over the years with our clients.”
Her eyes glisten, but she shudders. “His note sounds like a threat.”
“Then let me promise you something,” I say. I keep my voice steady even though my blood is boiling. “He’ll never touch you again. Not while I’m breathing.”
An hour later, the box of dead roses is gone, sealed in an evidence bag. Another statement is written, everything is photographed, and more time is wasted. Festivalgoers stare at the house as the cops stand out in front. Julie pretends to be fine, but I’ve watched her eyes unfocus on the same unread page of theCozy Newsfor the last twenty minutes.
When her phone rings again, she flinches hard enough that she almost spills her fresh cup of coffee. Julie turns her phone around to show me it’s a blocked number.
She answers and mutes the call. I hear someone breathing.
Julie’s face goes pale, but she clenches her jaw, not hanging up until they do.
Not a word is said. Creep.
After a few minutes, she ends the call, but it rings again. This time,Ianswer.
“Hey, Craig,” I say in a low tone. “I bet it pisses you off that I answered instead of Jules. But see, now you get to hear me talk about how you fucked up by letting her go. Honestly, I should thank you, buddy. Thank you for being a complete and utter dumbass and not realizing what you had. Because now she’s mine and?—”
The call ends.
Julie chuckles—a sound I love to hear.
“Guess I figured out what triggers him. It happens again, hand me the phone,” I say.
She smiles. “You’ll just irritate him.”
“That’s the point. Maybe he’ll stop calling when he has to listen to me brag about us every damn time.”
For a second, the silence in the condo is a victory. Then my phone rings.
It’s the security company.
“We’ve downloaded and forwarded the video to the police department and to you. It appears that a man asked a child to carry the box and knock on the door. We can’t see anything other than a blur of a body.”
“That sucks,” I breathe out. “Thank you.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t have been more helpful,” he says, and the call ends.
I open my email and forward it to Brody.
Julie’s phone vibrates again, and another knock on the door follows it.
