Closing my eyes, I took several deep breaths and reopened them. “Until I know what’s happening here, I don’t want her stressing out. And this has nothing to do with her. No one has been bothering her. It’s . . . it’s about me.”
Cole looked like he wanted to argue further, but inhaled roughly. “That’s your decision. I just want to go on record to say I don’t agree with it.”
“Duly noted.”
“I know the trooper asked who knew you were driving your mother’s truck tonight, but I have another question for you.”
“Ask away.”
“Is there anyone you can think of in particular that would be upset with you?”
I immediately knew where he was heading with this. “You mean upset enough with me to vandalize my car and leave a dead deer in the truck? No. I don’t know anyone who would want to do that.”
He lifted a hand and clasped the back of his neck. My heart did a stupid little flip, because that was a habit of his I remembered from before. I used to be fascinated with that act. Truthfully, I still was. “Maybe a boyfriend—”
“I told you I wasn’t seeing someone,” I reminded him, cheeks flushing.
“An ex-boyfriend?” he corrected, lowering his hand.
I didn’t want to answer the question, but felt like I needed to. “None of the . . . relationships I’ve been in have been serious enough for someone to get upset with me.”
The skin around his eyes pulled taut. “That sounds hard to believe.”
“Why? Actually, don’t answer that. There is no guy in my past upset enough to travel here.”
He raised a brow. “What about your boss?”
I shook my head. “He was . . . disappointed to lose me, but he got over it in about five minutes when he saw the twenty-five-year-old redhead I was interviewing to replace me.”
His lips twitched briefly. “I want you to think about it, Sasha. I don’t care if it’s someone you ticked off three years ago while at the grocery store. I want you to really think about who could be upset with you. You don’t have to answer it now. Take a day or two.”
I didn’t need to take a day or two. While living in Florida and Georgia, I mostly kept to myself. Went to work. Sometimes had drinks with coworkers. Every so often met someone who wasn’t looking for more than a few good nights.
Now that I thought about it, what in the hell had I been doing these last ten years? Pretty much nothing. Frustrated, I walked over to where my purse sat on the barstool. I reached in, pulling out my cell.
“It’s something—what are you doing?”
I looked up from my phone. “Getting ready to call Miranda. I need a ride home.”
“I can do that.”
Of course he would offer. He’d made me dinner because of—God, I didn’t even know why anymore. My earlier freak-out seemed like hours ago, but I didn’t need him doing anything more for me. “That’s not necessary.”
“Sasha,” he said, tone firm. “I’ll take you home.”
I stared at him a moment and then nodded, suddenly too weary to argue over something so pointless. “Okay.”
We didn’t talk as we headed out into his garage and I climbed into his truck. I couldn’t head toward my mother’s truck even though the deer wasn’t in there anymore.
So many questions plagued my mind, but mainly why would someone do something so disgusting? Why would someone break out the windows in my car? The answer was right in my face. It had to be because of my past, but the why was what didn’t make sense.
I was freaked out though. Thoroughly. The vandalized car was one thing but this . . . this was ratcheting things up to a whole new level. They felt like . . . like warnings, and I knew to some that would seem irrational but the thing was . . . after everything that had happened ten years ago, I spent many sleepless nights, still did, obsessing over if there had been signs. If there had been warnings about what was about to happen to me that I’d blindly ignored.
And I felt that way again.
Halfway home, something occurred to me as I glanced at Cole. His profile was pretty stoic, jaw a hard line and steely eyes focused on the road. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” Not a moment of hesitation.
“It’s about your job,” I clarified, holding my purse in my lap.
“If I can answer it, I will.” He glanced over at me. “What do you want to know?”
I took a deep breath, not sure if I wanted to know the answer. “Are you working on the case of the . . . the missing woman who was found near the old water tower?”
“The FBI hasn’t been called in on the case yet,” he answered after a moment. His hand tightened on the steering wheel. “But I know the department head has been in talks with both the Maryland and West Virginia State Police.”
Turning my gaze to the window, I watched the dark blur of the trees zooming by. “Do you . . .”
There was a heartbeat. “Do I what, Sasha?”
I swallowed hard. “Do you think it’s weird that her body was found there, of all places?”
Cole didn’t immediately answer. Not until I found myself looking at him again did he say, “Yeah. I find it weird.”
“I’ll walk you to your door,” Cole said as he turned off the engine.
Before I could tell him that wasn’t necessary, he was already out of his truck. Sighing, I opened the door and climbed out. He walked me to the porch and started toward the front door. “I’m not going in that way.”
He stopped, then turned toward me. “You’re going in the back entrance?”
I nodded. “There’s a private entrance to the apartments in the back.” I could easily just go in the front door, but I hadn’t come up with a good reason to why I had Cole drive me home and I didn’t want to risk running into my mother. “You don’t have to do this. I’m home.”
“I’m doing this.” He started walking toward the side of the house and I sighed. “Do you guys lock the door at night?” he asked.
Frowning, I nodded as I stepped off the porch. “We usually make sure all the guests are back.”
“And what do you do if the guests aren’t back?”
“The doors are locked at ten o’clock, no matter what. Guests have to use the keys they’re given upon checkin if they stay out later,” I explained.
Cole moved ahead of me. Motion detectors kicked on, lighting up the path. As we rounded the back of the house, I stepped around him and headed for the flight of stairs hidden behind the tall oak. Of course, Cole was right behind me. Once we were in front of my door, I already had my key in hand.
“Thank you for the dinner and for helping out with the whole . . . truck thing,” I said as I opened the door, keeping my voice low just in case Mom was in her apartment. “If you could just text me and let me know when I could pick it up, I’d appreciate—”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
Stopping, I turned around and faced him. The balcony light cast deep shadows along his cheekbones. “What?”
Cole stepped inside my apartment, forcing me to take another step back. “I’m staying here.”