She dropped her gaze. “I know you think I shouldn’t have married Michael. I know you feel that it was selfish and cruel to you, but if you’d seen the way he was with you when I first took you to see him … He fell head over heels in love with you right there. Made you smile and giggle and blow raspberries at him. It felt right. Felt like we were all exactly where we were supposed to be in that moment.”
“He killed thirty-two women so, yeah, he was exactly where he was supposed to be. Prison. He’ll always deserve to be there. The relationship you have with him …” It was a mockery of what a relationship should be, but I didn’t say that. It would fall on deaf ears. “If he’s what makes you happy, fine. Because I love you, I accept that, even though I don’t like it. But expecting other people to understand and accept it is unfair, Mom. So I’m asking you not to mention Michael to Blake and let him get used to the situation on his own.”
Her mouth flattened. “All right. But if he asks—” She quieted on hearing a knock at the door. “You let them in, I’ll plate this up. After we’ve eaten, the floor is yours.”
I was glad she hadn’t insisted on hearing me out before we ate. She didn’t seem the least bit uneasy, so I had to conclude that she was clinging to the idea that Ricky was gone. I decided to to let her enjoy that illusion of safety just a little longer.
Sherry, however, hadn’t looked happy that she’d need to wait. Then again, she’d had to watch me stress-clean the bar for hours on end, so it was no wonder that she wanted the mystery revealed.
After the meal was over, we all settled in the living area with coffees. And then I told them exactly what I’d told Sarah, minus the juicy details about me and Blake, of course.
Dodger folded his arms across his chest. “So, what you’re saying is that we can’t really be sure who’s been messing with you all this time?”
“Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still leaning toward Ricky. Just because Linton was hanging around Blake’s club doesn’t mean he was the one who called me.”
“But it is suspicious that he’d go there,” said Sherry.
I nodded. “I left a message on Linton’s answering machine, saying I’d changed my mind and I wanted to talk to him.”
“What?” exploded Dodger. “Kensey, the guy could be stalking you, and you want to talk to him?”
“I’m not being stalked.” Ignoring Sarah’s snort, I continued, “And, no, I don’t want to talk to him. But I need to bring him out into the open so that Blake can speak with him, which is why I suggested to Linton that he and I can meet in a public place. I won’t mention that Blake will make an appearance, of course.”
Sherry gave a nod of approval. “If anyone can scare him off, it’s Blake. If Linton’s answers don’t satisfy Blake, the fucker will get his ass kicked—I’m all for that plan.”
Cade tilted his head. “Do you think Linton can be chased away?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But it’s worth a shot.” I turned to Clear, who hadn’t yet spoken a word. Gently, I asked, “Mom, how often does Linton bother you?”
She rubbed her arms. “He doesn’t, really,” she said, voice shaky.
Her answer surprised me. “He didn’t try cornering you outside the library the day we talked there?”
Her brow creased slightly. “No. I didn’t see him at all. He leaves me voicemails, pushing me to talk to him. Even offered me money recently.”
I winced, thinking I’d probably given him that idea.
“But the last time we physically spoke was a while ago.” She took a long, ragged breath. “Kensey, I’d feel a whole lot better if you moved in with me for a while. I don’t like the thought of you alone in that apartment, especially at night.”
“I can’t, Mom. Hear me out. I agree with Sarah—this person wants me isolated. If I was living with someone, I’d be the opposite of isolated. In other words, if I were to move in here, he could take out his frustrations on you.”
“I don’t care. You’re my daughter. It’s my job to protect you.”
Sherry put a hand over Clear’s. “Kensey has protection right now. Blake won’t let anything happen to her.” Sherry sighed at me. “Can’t say I think he’s good enough for you. I don’t. But I am confident that he has the resources to untangle this mess and locate the fucker upsetting you.”
“He’d better,” growled Dodger.
I turned back to Clear. “Mom, I need you to be careful around Linton, okay? If he tries talking to you, just keep walking and ignore him. Call me or Sherry if he does anything that scares you or even just makes you nervous.” I didn’t bother telling her to call the police—they wouldn’t heed her. “Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.” Then she started crying, but I’d known that was coming. Rather than coddle her, I said, “I’ll just give you a minute and go do the dishes.”
Her eyes snapped open, wide with something close to panic. “What? No.” Because she had her own way of washing dishes.
“Well then, we’ll do them together,” I said, knowing that cleaning would give her back a sense of order and control.
By the time we were done, she’d gotten herself together. But I didn’t revisit the who-the-hell-is-messing-with-me subject and instead asked how her last visit with Michael went. He was a topic that was always guaranteed to lift her mood.
Sherry, Dodger, Sarah, and Cade left around seven-thirty, but I stayed until eight, just as I’d planned.
Clear walked onto the porch with me as I was leaving and said, “I spoke to your dad on the phone yesterday. He’s worried about you. He’s not going to like hearing that we can’t know for sure who’s upsetting you. It devastates him that he can’t protect you.”
I inwardly frowned, thinking it was probably best that he couldn’t, since he had homicidal tendencies and all.
“Be careful, sweetie.” She gave me a tight hug. “Love you.”
I patted her back. “You, too.”
“My, my, my, who might this be?”
Pulling out of her arms, I turned. And my breath hitched as I saw that Blake had climbed out of Rossi’s car and was now talking with him through the lowered window.
With a quick beep of his horn, Rossi disappeared down the road. Blake then stalked up the path toward us, eyes fixed on mine. Maybe he hadn’t trusted me to arrange a meeting with Clear or something and was taking the matter into his own hands.
Smooth as ever, he reached out, took my hand, and drew me neatly to his side. “You’re ready on time. That’s unusual for you.”
I sniffed at him, even though he was totally right.
He turned to Clear. “You must be Kensey’s mother.”
“And you must be Blake.” She studied him from head to toe, taking in the well-ironed button-down shirt, tailored slacks, and gleaming shoes. I knew she’d like what she saw—a man who looked smart, well-groomed, and refined. He ticked her neat-freak boxes just fine.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Lyons,” said Blake.
“Likewise. I’ve heard a little about you. I understand you’re dating my daughter—now that you’ve seen she’s worth more than casual sex, I mean.”