Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
We could have grandchildren racing up the driveway collecting bugs in jars. I would hold her hand and smile knowing that we had lived a good life together. The problem was, I wasn’t sure she felt the same way. I could tell she liked me, but what if she wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment? What if I scared her off with thoughts of the future? It would be better to just relax and let the relationship develop on its own. That way, no one would get hurt.
I was completely focused on the woman of my dreams when my phone beeped again.
“Work?” Lindsey asked.
I looked at the caller ID and nodded. It wasn’t work; it was Angie. She had called me six times that day and ten times the day before. She kept leaving voicemails, and the voicemails got stranger and stranger. If I hadn’t known it before, it was obvious now: Angie had some serious mental health issues that needed addressing.
“Hi, Jason!” Her voice was bubbly to start, and she rambled on about some memory we supposedly shared. “I was just thinking about that time when we went skinny-dipping in Malorie’s pool—do you remember that? And her toy poodle stole your underwear?” I most definitely did not remember that. Whether she made it up or it came from another man she had dated, I didn’t know. “Okay, so I just wanted to let you know I’m here if you need me.” That was a laugh. She was never there when I needed her in Nashville—she was always out shopping with her friends or day drinking at upscale bars. She didn’t have a nurturing bone in her body.
“I heard that the Lucky Lady has the best burgers in town,” she crowed. She was in Singer’s Ridge. When I had cautioned Ava against stalking Ryan, I hadn’t been aware how close to home the advice would hit. My own wife was in town somewhere, eating at my favorite restaurants, trying to reconnect. Dodging her phone calls was becoming exhausting, and now I would have to look over my shoulder everywhere I went.
I didn’t want it to ruin my evening with Lindsey, so I turned my phone off.
“I thought you never turned your phone off,” Lindsey observed.
I shrugged. “Ryan’s on call tonight.”
“But what if something happens?” Lindsey asked.
“I’ll turn it back on before bed,” I lied. I picked up Lindsey’s hand and kissed it. “Don’t worry, the town’s not going to explode without me.”
She laughed. We finished our dinner and played strip poker in the living room. Lindsey put on her playlist, and we danced like no one was watching. We made love and fell asleep in my bed.
Ihad to be careful getting out of my car, parked on the street outside the police station. I looked up the street and down, no sign of Angie. I grabbed my lunch and scooted into the station house, closing the door after me like a trapped rat.
“Somethin’ wrong?” Cheryl asked.
“No,” I said, pulling my jacket off and sitting down at my desk. “Everything’s great.”
She narrowed her eyes, unconvinced.
“My ex-wife is in town,” I spilled.
“Oh.” She nodded and went back to her typing.
I sat down at my desk and tried to concentrate on my work. Half an hour later, Ryan rescued me by walking in the door.
“Mornin’, Cheryl, mornin’, Jason,” Ryan said, pulling off his hat before going to sit in his chair.
“Mornin’, Ryan,” Cheryl said.
“Any headway on the hair salon?” I went over to him, eager to be distracted.
“Yeah.” Ryan turned on his computer and twisted the screen so I could see. “You remember the girls said that they get restocked on hair care products every week?”
I nodded.
“Well, I did some research on each of these brands.” He showed me a picture of the product shelf at the salon. “They aren’t worth the price Katrina is paying for them. She has way overspent, every week.”
“Good work.”
“What’s our next step?” Ryan asked.
I thought I saw movement out the window, and I hurried over. It was just the mailman. A moment later, the door banged open, and Cheryl accepted the day’s mail from the elderly postman.
“Ma’am,” he said before leaving.
I turned back around to find Ryan staring at me in disbelief.
“His ex is in town,” Cheryl supplied to aid his confusion.
“Oh.” Ryan nodded. “You wanna run by the hair salon again?”
“Yes,” I said, sensing the subterfuge.
We got into Ryan’s hatchback and drove four and a half blocks away to park on the street. Ryan turned to me as soon as we could viably say we were on a stakeout. “This is the same ex that threw things at you and stole your car?”
“That one,” I said.
“What’s she doing in town?”
“Stalking me.” I sighed. “She’s left me at least six messages a day for the past three days.”