Boomerang is wailing through the crack in the window as soon as he spots me outside.
Drama king.
Honestly, anyone would think I abuse him with how he protests. But after a little scratch behind the ear and a bowl full of kibble, he’s a happy boy again.
I don’t bother with food, I drag my laptop from underneath my bed, along with a dust ball, and will it to life.
I can’t remember the last time I turned it on, but it groans to life, the fans working overtime to clear the dust from the filters.
Oops.
Can’t say dusting has been one of my biggest priorities of late. Neither has anything else apparently.
Other than my hair—that is something I take pride in. Though I don’t know why, it’s not like it’s doing me any favours in the male department.
Adam used to remind me that I’m nothing special.
Just an average face.
Average body.
Average everything.
And maybe he was right, because apparently I possess the exact energy that repels romantic attention like bug spray. Apparently, it makes me invisible.
Though tonight, invisibility’s working in my favour.
If I can keep it up long enough to find this bastard—the one shadowing Darcy—I’ll call it a superpower.
Turns out, a car registration number doesn’t spill secrets like I’d hoped.
There I was, full Sherlock Holmes fantasy, expecting a treasure trove of intel from a few digits.
Instead? A digital wall and a shrug.
So, I pivot.
Land registry. Not ideal, but if it gets me a name, it’s a start.
Only catch?
The greedy little portal wants three quid for the privilege.
Darcy officially owes me.
Honestly, what kind of county charges you to protect your own safety?
She’s buying the next round. I’m a woman on a budget.
The PDF feels like it takes ages to download, the little spinning wheel of death mocking me, teasing me until I almost lose it completely.
Then in those little typed letters—
Cameron Reed.
A common name.
An inconspicuous name.
