“According to the neighbor, Sarah Gallagher left here with a tall blond man who ‘looked vaguely familiar.’ Not another neighbor, and not a cop. He was driving a late-model Mercedes.”
Brodie whistled in surprise. “That doesn’t sound like our guys. Their wheels tend to be very unobtrusive.”
Cait nodded. “That’s what I thought. Unfortunately, the neighbor didn’t get a license plate, so that’s no good. She did, however, say that she thought the cop in charge talked to both Sarah and the blond stranger before they left, so there’s a solid chance the locals know where Sarah’s supposed to be. Especially since she probably hasn’t been ruled out as a suspect herself.”
“Yeah, they will check the obvious first.” Brodie nodded slowly.
“So we need eyes and ears inside the local police department,” Cait said. “They probably wouldn’t know me, so—”
Brodie was shaking his head. “I don’t think so, Cait. We need to move too fast; planting someone on the inside takes time. But…I might know someone who already has eyes on the inside.”
“Someone you can trust?”
He smiled faintly, as though he found the question amusing. “I don’t deal with people I can’t trust. Come on—we need to get out of here before that squad car makes its next scheduled pass by here. And let’s find a landline; I don’t want to use the cell for this call.”
When Sarah came out of her bedroom wearing a bulky sweater and jeans, Tucker didn’t mention the watcher outside. It was not out of some outdated—and no doubt unwanted—sense of chivalry that he kept silent, but simply because he was convinced Sarah would not be surprised by the knowledge. She knew she was being watched; he thought she knew why, or had some suspicion why—and it had nothing to do with frightened neighbors.
It was an answer he wanted.
Sarah glanced toward the fire without comment as she passed through the living room, then turned on a couple of lamps and went into the kitchen area.
“I didn’t know how you took yours,” Tucker said, lifting his coffee cup in a slight gesture.
She poured a cup of coffee for herself, taking it black. “No problem. Look, it’s after six; I have some ready-made stew and bread in the freezer, if you’re planning to stay for supper.”
Tucker had to smile at the wording. “I’d hate to impose.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” she said, either another shrewd guess or certain knowledge. Whichever, it was accompanied by a slight smile as Sarah began getting out a pot and the frozen stew, and turning on the oven for the bread.
Tucker reclaimed his stool at the breakfast bar, sitting beside a cat who was neatly washing his paws and face after his own meal. “Okay, so I wouldn’t hate it. I’ve got the nerve of a burglar, according to most of my friends. But I was trained right; if you’re going to do the cooking, I’ll do the dishes.”
“Suits me.” She put the bagged stew into the microwave to thaw, then leaned back against the counter and sipped her coffee, looking at Tucker across the space separating them. “Are you planning to spend the night?”
That question would have bothered Tucker, except for the fact that she sounded totally uninterested in the subject. “That depends on you.”
“I told you I didn’t mind being alone. There are no monsters in the closet or under my bed; I just checked.” She wasn’t smiling.
Neither was Tucker when he said, “There’s one outside. Watching. Wearing a black leather jacket.”
Her eyes seemed to flicker slightly. “You saw him?”
“Yes. A few minutes ago, before it started getting dark. Who is he, Sarah?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why is he watching you?”
“I don’t know.”
Tucker shook his head. “And yet you aren’t worried about it? I don’t buy that.”
“Why worry about something you can’t change?” She shrugged.
“Then you do know why he’s watching.”
Sarah hesitated, then shook her head. “No. I—I don’t know the why of any of it. Just the fact of it.”
Baffled, Tucker frowned and watched her turn to get the stew out of the microwave and put it in a pot on the stove. “So what is the fact of it?” he asked her.
“He’s watching me. He’s waiting. And sooner or later, he’ll do what he came here to do.”
“Which is?”
“I don’t know.”
After a moment, Tucker drew a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m spending the night,” he said flatly.
She looked back over her shoulder at him, her eyes flickering again. “To guard the door? To keep the monster out? Don’t bother. You can’t save me from him.”
Her fatalistic attitude irritated Tucker. “At least I’m willing to try, which is more than I can say for you. Where’s the phone? This is something Sergeant Lewis should know about.”
“He can’t save me either,” she said softly, returning her attention to the stew.
“Why the hell not? He’s a cop, isn’t he? It’s his job.”
Sarah shook her head. “To protect and serve? No. There’s nothing he can do—even if he believed me. Even if he believed you. And he wouldn’t.”