The officer believed she was being silly. That she was scattered. Emotional.
And if she were to examine the pure facts, she couldn’t blame him. She looked a little crazed standing here in her sweats.
She shoved a shaky hand through her hair. “I look like a crazy woman.”
Her comment eased some of his tension. “Not crazy. And we’re here to take care of trouble.”
She looked toward the open door. “I’ve never been so foolish, but maybe there’s a first for everything.”
“Like I said, we’ll step up patrols in the neighborhood. Try to keep an eye out.”
“Thanks.” She held out her hand and he accepted it. “I appreciate your help.”
He touched the brim of his hat and moved past her toward his car. Her gaze on the open front door, she moved slowly toward her house. Once a place of safety, the space cast a tainted aura.
She went inside her house, closed and locked the door. Atticus came out from under the couch and rubbed against her. He meowed his annoyance as the other two cats scooted out from under the couch. “I don’t like having the police in my house any more than you three. Believe me.”
Her cell phone buzzed with a new text. She flinched, surprised she still clutched it.
The text was from her sister. Jo glanced at the subject line. On a date!! A smile tugged the edge of Jo’s lips. Ellie had had a rough go since her divorce.
Another text followed and this one had an image attached. Jo opened the text and saw a picture of her blond, beaming sister sitting next to the man. She recognized the man instantly. It was Dayton.
“Damn it!” Her hands trembled as she dialed Ellie’s number. The phone rang twice before going to voicemail. “You’ve put the phone on silent. Call me when you get this.”
The first meeting with Dayton could have been considered a happenstance. But a second and then a message from Casey at the bar. The wrappers. And now a date with Ellie. It all added up to stalking.
Calling the police again wouldn’t be effective. What was she going to say? Her sister was on a date? Who could she call?
She needed a friend.
Someone that believed her.
She dialed Santos’s number.
Brody was in his office going through the collection of birthday cards Smith had sent to Jo. He’d bought a card for each of her birthdays starting at age twelve and going all the way up to her thirtieth birthday. In each he’d written a note detailing how proud he was of her accomplishments. Some included pictures of her taken from some distance. One included a picture of a woman Smith claimed was his mother. He’d included the picture in her sweet sixteen card. The black-and-white had been taken forty years ago and scribbled on the back was the name “Rachel” and the note, “You remind me so much of her.”
Brody studied the image, searching for resemblances to Jo. There might have been some likeness but nothing definitive to make him take note. The bottom line was that Smith believed he was Jo’s father.
A knock on his door had him looking up to find Santos standing in his doorway, his cell phone in hand and a frown on his face. “Guess who called me?”
Brody tore his gaze from the card. “Not in the mood for games.”
Santos moved into his office, not put off by Brody’s foul humor. “Dr. Jo Granger called me. She was trying to sound cool and collected, but she’s rattled.”
Brody’s gut tightened as he rose. “Where is she?”
Customary good humor had vanished in the wake of worry. “At home. She thinks she’s got a stalker.”
“What?”
Santos had the look of a man who itched to take action. “Dayton. Remember him?”
Brody paused. “Sure, he was implicated in his wife’s disappearance.”
“Jo interviewed him last week. Dayton’s defense attorney hired her firm for an analysis of his psychological makeup. Her report wasn’t favorable and since their only official meeting he’s been showing up.” He detailed the sequence of events including the date with Jo’s sister.
Brody reached for his gun in his side drawer and holstered it. “And she called you.”
Not me. You.
“She called the local PD first who came and did a search of her house. They offered to patrol her neighborhood more.”
Brody shook his head. “I’d already ordered more patrols in the neighborhood. Dayton is in his midthirties, right?”
“You’re thinking about Smith’s apprentice.”
“Do we have a profile of Dayton’s past?”
“He’s a dentist. Went to dental school and undergrad in Texas. He moved to Texas when he was sixteen, from Tulsa.”
“Foster care? Gaps in his past?”
“None local police found. No red flags as far as Smith is concerned.”
“That doesn’t make him any less dangerous.” Brody grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and slid it on. “Why’d you come to me? I can see you want in on this.”
A dark smile curved the edges of his lips. “Jo’s a great gal, and I’d like nothing better than to track Dayton and school him on some manners. But I don’t poach.”
Poach. Santos believed Jo belonged with Brody. Brody could deny the claim on Jo. He could insist that the past was the past. That what they had was a mistake. Over.
But he didn’t. There might not be much between Brody and Jo now, but that was something he’d planned to fix.
Santos took his silence for indecision. “But if you don’t consider it poaching I’ll move in on her faster than you can blink.”
Brody met his gaze, a half-unfriendly smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “I’d hate to beat you to a pulp.”
Santos’s gaze sparked with amusement and challenge. “You sure could try.”
“I’d whoop your ass.”
“Not on your best day.” His lips flattened. “If you hurt her, I will beat your ass to a pulp.”
“Understood.” Brody picked up his hat.
Satisfied for now, Santos said, “I’ll ask around about Dayton. See what else I can find out.”
“I want to know all there is to know about this son of a bitch.”
Brody couldn’t drive to Jo’s fast enough. The urge to protect her was primal, and he didn’t question it.
When he rang her bell, he listened to her hurried footsteps and the scrape of the chain against the door. A moment’s hesitation told him she was looking through the peephole. Good. Be careful.
Her expression was grim when she opened the door. “Brody, what are you doing here?”
He’d mucked up their chances good between them back in the day. Going forward he’d do some serious digging to get himself out of the hole he’d dug. “Santos told me you called.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I called him. Not you.”
He searched the front porch, looking for signs of an intruder. “He told me you called.”
She wore loose-fitting yoga pants, a tank top and no shoes. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders. “Why would he do that?”
He met her worried gaze. “You gonna let me in or not?” No sense getting into the winning her back part. Right now he suspected she’d slam the door in his face if he did. “I want to hear all you have to say about Dayton.”
She hesitated and pushed open the screen door. “Thanks for coming.”
He removed his hat and stepped into the house, which was as neat as it had been the last time he’d been here. “Where are the Three Musketeers?”
That coaxed a smile. “Scattered in their favorite hiding spots. They are not happy about the upset to their routine.”
“Neither are you.” Without her heels the top of her head barely reached his shoulders. And without makeup she looked younger and more vulnerable. He could see now that she wore both like coats of armor, and it wasn’t lost on him that she’d answered the door without both because she’d expected Santos, not him.
“Can I get you a coffee? I put a pot on, and it should be read
y.”
“That would be great. Been a long day.”
He followed her into the kitchen. She’d already pulled out two mugs. For her and Santos. He didn’t dwell on what might be or what had been. He focused on what he had in front of him. And right how he had Jo all to himself.
She poured the coffee and without asking splashed a bit of milk in the cup before handing it to him. “Good and hot.”
His gaze lifted from the cup to her. “You remembered.”
Frowning, she shrugged. “I didn’t even think.”
He sipped the coffee. It tasted good.
She held up her cup. “You remember how I take mine?”
He arched a brow. “You’re asking if a twenty-one-year-old remembered how you took your coffee?”
She smiled. “A stretch, I know, but I thought I’d ask.”
Brody laid his hat on the table. “I never claimed to be the most observant kid unless it had to do with baseball.”
She sipped her coffee black, a fact he’d not forget again. “You were always like a laser on the ballfield. I was surprised when you gave it up.”