Jack was restless at the news that our only possible suspect wasn’t dead after all and might actually be in town, so he went patrolling in tiger form for half the night while I went to sleep.
When my alarm went off, Jack knocked on my bedroom door and brought me in a cup of coffee.
"I could get used to this," I mumbled, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.
"I could get used to roast chicken and pumpkin pies," he said, not even flinching when he looked at my frightening morning hair.
He must really, really like pumpkin pie.
"I'm heading to Orlando to see what I can find out from some in-person interviews with any of Brig's associates I can get to talk to me," he told me. "I also have some work to do on my new case. Will you be okay on your own at work?"
I sighed. "Jack. I was okay for all those years before you came back to Dead End, remember? And I'm okay now. Eleanor is supposed to work this afternoon, even. Nobody is going to come after me at the pawnshop when there are customers in and out all day. This guy, whoever he is, has shown that he's a coward who sneaks around at night."
He didn't look convinced, but I shooed him out of the house. He needed to go home and do some chores around his house, too, instead of spending all his time at mine. I fed Lou, got dressed, and went to work, skipping the donuts this time. My jeans were getting a little bit snug.
The phone in the shop was ringing when I unlocked the door.
"Dead End Pawn, may I help you?"
"Tess. Hello. It's Bill Oliver."
Oh, boy. I had not had enough coffee for this conversation.
"Yes, Mr. Oliver?"
"I just… this is somewhat inappropriate, Tess, but do you know why Eleanor won't return my calls?"
It seemed like a bad idea to say "Speaking of inappropriate, I saw you hugging your blond hussy."
"She's very busy."
"I know she's busy," he said, sounding concerned and frustrated. "But she's always busy, and she always makes time to talk to me. She's not sick, is she?"
"Not that I know of," I said slowly. The hangover had certainly worn off by now.
"Then what could possibly be wrong?"
"Mr. Oliver, I think you're going to have to talk to Eleanor about that. It would be inappropriate, as you said, for me to discuss my employee with you."
He sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just that she's… well, she's the apple of my eye, Tess. I can't bear to think she doesn't want to see me anymore."
I put my phone on mute and drew in a long, shaky breath.
Oh. My. Goodness.
Is it possible? Could Mr. Oliver be the stalker? If so, why would he give himself away like that? Or is this part of his devious plot to taunt me with the knowledge, when he knew I had no proof? After all, I'd seen firsthand that he had a thing for younger women.
He was still talking.
I took the phone off mute and tried to sound calm. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."
"When does she work next, if you don't mind me asking?"
"This afternoon," I said automatically, before realizing that I probably shouldn't have told him.
The apple of his eye.
"Have you been by the shop recently?"
