Taking a few calming breaths, I clear my mind, needing to get this asshole who's targeting single women off the streets and behind bars before he kills someone. He’s broken into six houses, all while the owners were sleeping. All women living alone. He’s injured the last four. The most recent victim wound up in the hospital with a concussion, broken wrist, and four stitches on her eyebrow. The escalation is ramping up to rape or murder. Hell, possibly both.
It doesn’t escape my attention that Ember perfectly matches the description and lives only six blocks from the latest victim. But she hasn’t reported her wallet or license as missing so far. All of the victims had previous to their attack.
While skimming through the reports, one recurring action catches my interest, and I can’t believe I didn’t identify it before now. Each victim had a run-in with someone in or just outside of a parking garage. Nothing untoward happened at any of the exchanges, but it’s the only similarity connecting all the cases.
Printing out a list of each garage and their address, I knock on Kol’s door. “What’s up?” He doesn’t look up from whatever he’s staring at on his computer screen.
“Got a lead on these break-ins. I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon scoping them out. Interested in joining me?”
His head darts up at the invitation. “Fuck, yes.” He’s been bitching like crazy about all the paperwork his new position entails. I don’t envy him. “So, what’s this lead?”
Exiting the building, I explain, “Each of the women reported their license or wallet missing, but they didn’t know how or where. In the corresponding reports, their account of the days leading up to the assaults all reveals that they bumped into someone in or near a parking garage. I’m thinking this could be our guy. He hits them hard enough that they drop their purses, and he snatches it then. Probably apologizes and helps them clean up, so when they go to file the missing item report, they don’t even think about the kind stranger that bumped into them.”
“Good theory.” Kol gazes down at the paper I’ve handed him with the locations of each garage. “Got a map in the car?”
Curious, I nod and grab the city map from my glove box, laying it on the hood of my car. “What are you thinking?” I ask this time.
“I say we put the homes and the garages on the map and see what kind of radius he’s working in.” After marking the structures up in different colored Sharpies, we’ve gained a clearer picture of his comfort zone.
He’s mostly been working from downtown to the northwest side of the city. Ember's side of the city. And that more than anything terrifies me.
Ember
Exhaustion tugs at me as I pull into the grocery store parking lot. I’ve put off shopping for days because I honestly hate doing it, but with so many things changing, I know I need to take better care of myself.
It’s not just me anymore.
I have a baby to think about now.
A baby.
It still doesn’t feel real.
Maybe if I share my secret, I’ll feel like it is? I don’t know. I’m in unchartered water here and have no idea what I’m doing.
Noah’s arrival yesterday left me even more emotional because I both love and hate the damn man. He angers me, and he makes me feel worthy all at the same time. And now that I’m having his baby, I know I have to figure out where he’s going to fit into our lives. I can’t just ignore him now.
After learning who the gorgeous girl with him at Kol’s party was, the constriction on my heart has eased some, but I still don’t feel like I could be a priority to him. He never confessed he was married. He remained silent for three months, and now, suddenly, he’s asking for something I’m not even sure I can give him.
I’m fragile and highly emotional right now, and trusting in what Noah makes me feel when he holds me in his arms might not be the smart decision.
Weary from my circling thoughts, I step out of the car into the crisp night air. The nip helps wake me up a little as I enter the building. Grabbing a cart, I leisurely stroll up and down the aisles, picking out some fruit, crackers, and a bunch of soups. I don’t have the energy lately to cook anything time-consuming.
As I reach the check-out and begin unloading my items onto the belt, I search through my purse, unable to find my wallet. Flustered as the cashier starts ringing in my items, my panic begins to spike a bit until I realize I must have left it in the car after I bumped into that guy yesterday and my purse spilled everywhere.
Pulling up Apple Pay on my phone, I’ve never been more grateful for the system I’ve seldomly ever used. After finishing up, I quickly get back to my car, needing to know where my wallet has wandered off to.
Placing the bags in my trunk, I begin a short search under the front seats for my wallet before giving up with no luck. Frustrated, I slam the passenger side door before sitting behind the wheel and wondering where in the fresh hell it went.
All I can think is, that man must have stolen it. He was curt, hurried, and wouldn’t look me in the eye. Annoyance clenches my jaw. I was so distracted that I hadn’t even thought to check if anything was missing. Now, I’m paying for it.
The drive home is filled with nineties pop music on the satellite station I listen to, and the minutes blend together until I reach home.
Noah is leaning against his car as I pull into the driveway, and I’m so shocked by his presence that the mystery of my missing wallet is swiftly forgotten. Unprepared to deal with him while feeling so tired, I take my time gathering my purse and popping the trunk of my car before exiting.
He saunters over with his sexy cop swagger, and every piece of me is begging to be held in his arms again. He’s a drug, and I’m more than hooked on him. I’m addicted.
“Noah,” I greet him, trying my best to remain indifferent, but I don’t think it works since I’m hyperaware of him standing behind me as I lift the trunk lid.