I snuck a peek at him. “I had no idea you were this deep.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
He pulled into employee parking, and I pointed out my car.
“There’s a café nearby with outdoor patio seating and since I have Ace with me, I thought it might be nice. Does that sound okay to you?”
“The weather is beautiful, so outdoor seating sounds great. Let’s do it.”
I followed him to the restaurant, and once we arrived, Bronson let Ace out of the car and took hold of his leash. He held the restaurant door open for me and I went in first. A hostess led us to a table outside, and Bronson pulled out my chair for me.
“You’re really pulling out all the stops today.”
He chuckled. “I have basic manners. My mom didn’t raise a caveman.”
A waitress stopped by our table and handed us menus. “I’m Staci and I’ll be serving you today.” She glanced between the two of us, and I caught her checking out Bronson’s left hand, probably trying to see if he had a ring. She was young and pretty, with shoulder length brown hair and light blue eyes. She wore a short skirt and a low-cut blouse. “Would you like to hear the specials of the day?”
“Sure,” I said.
She rattled off a list of dishes, looking at Bronson the entire time as if he was the only one seated at the table. “Oooh is that your dog?” she asked, glancing at Ace.
Ace had laid down next to Bronson’s feet and appeared to be taking a nap. “Yeah, he won’t bother anyone,” Bronson said.
She bent over to pet Ace, giving Bronson a perfect view down her blouse. Bronson turned away, averting his eyes, and then winked at me. A flood of warmth spread throughout my body. What a nice guy. He could have easily checked her out, but instead, he kept his attention on me. My estimation of him rose a little higher.
“We need a few minutes to figure out what we want,” Bronson said.
“Take your time,” Staci said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m here if you need me.”
The way she’d said “need me” made her comment sound like an overture, and I tried not to roll my eyes. Was that the kind of thing I’d have to put up with if I went out with him again? The man was gorgeous, no doubt about it, and he was in uniform, which doubled the appeal. But seriously . . . I didn’t care to see women throwing themselves at his feet every time we went somewhere. I thought about our conversation earlier about God being the only One who could fill the longings of the heart, and I concentrated on that and tried to keep my focus.
We figured out what we wanted and placed our order, and Staci toned it down, mostly because Bronson didn’t feed into her flirtatious behavior.
We chatted for a while, each sharing our Christian testimonies with each other. I talked about the Wednesday evening program at my church, and Bronson shared what he had learned recently in his daily time in the Word.
After Staci brought out our drinks, Bronson glanced at me. “So, you’re a cat person.” It was more of a statement than a question.
I smiled. “Yep. All the way. Cats rule and dogs drool,” I said, quoting the infamous line from Homeward Bound. I peered down at Ace. “No offense, sweetie. You’re pretty special, so you don’t fit into the category with the rest of the drooling dogs.”
Bronson smirked. “I’d take a dog any day over a cat.”
“All right. Let’s hear it.” I wiggled my fingers, gesturing for him to share more. “Why would you take a dog over a cat?”
“Take Ace, for example. If I wanted, I could train him to bring my slippers in the morning. You can’t train a cat to do something like that. In fact, a cat might bring you a dead mouse instead.”
“Snow did that once or twice, but that was her way of showing her love.”
Bronson chuckled. “Good to know you feel that way. If a guy wants to show his affection, all he has to do is drop a dead mouse on your lap.”
“I didn’t say . . .” A smile curved around my lips and I gave him a don’t-mess-with-me look.
He winked. “Here’s a second example. If I’ve had a long day at work, I can talk to Ace and he’ll tilt his head and appear like he’s listening to everything I say. Dogs are loyal. That’s why they’re referred to as man’s best friend.” He chuckled. “Now a cat—that’s another story. A cat will glare at you, take off in the opposite direction, and then take a nap. Not so loyal.”
I laughed. “That is so not true. Snowball listens to everything I say, and she lets me know she cares by purring and snuggling up to me. I couldn’t find a more loyal pet.”
The corner of Bronson’s lips twitched as if he wanted to smile. “Let’s say hypothetically, the two of us went on another date to the park and brought our pets. Do you think they’d mesh?”
“Hypothetically speaking, Ace might have his hands full with Snow. She’s not afraid, and she’s been known to use her claws on the sensitive area of a dog’s nose.”
Bronson’s eyes widened. “Temperamental.”
“As long as she’s not provoked, she’ll be fine.”
“Okay . . . let’s do it then.”
I sat up straighter. “Are you asking me on a second date?”
“Absolutely. I like you, Allison, and I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Well, thank you. I like you, too.” From my peripheral vision, I noticed a man watching us across the street, leaning against a car. Turning my head to get a better look, I gasped when my eyes fell on the messy head of hair and black-framed glasses. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no.”
“What’s wrong?”
“That guy.” I jerked my chin in Barry’s direction. “I think he’s stalking me.”
Bronson glanced over and saw Barry watching us. He stood to his feet and took hold of Ace’s leash. “I’ll be right back.” He left the patio area with Ace and jogged across the crosswalk.
Barry swiftly got into his car and drove away before Bronson reached him. He jogged back to the table, a concerned expression on his face. “I didn’t catch his license plate. Do you know him?”
“Yeah, he’s my neighbor.” I filled him in on everything that had happened, including the crank calls and muddy footprints outside my front and back door.
Bronson shook his head. “I don’t like it. You need to be careful. I don’t trust guys like that.”
“I know. It’s finally starting to sink in how serious this might be. At least he hasn’t threatened me though.”
“His aggression at the Thai restaurant was a form of threatening, and it sounds like his behavior is escalating. Keep a log of everything he’s done. You need specifics so you can file a restraining order.”
My head jerked back. “Do you really believe that’s necessary?”
“If it continues, yes.” He gave me a hard look. “Trust your instincts, Allison. Don’t shrug off your suspicions because you think you’re imagining things.” His jaw tightened. “You’ve already shut down communication by asking him not to talk to you again, but there’s a good chance he’ll continue. In my experience, stalkers don’t listen to friendly advice. They need a restraining order to keep them away.”
“I don’t think he would attack me, but I don’t really know him well.”
“When you’re out and about, stay alert in your surroundings. Predators are much more likely to take advantage when someone is distracted by their phone or texting.”
I nodded. “Okay. I’ll definitely be more vigilant from now on.”
“And if he ever approaches you and tells you to go with him, do everything in your power to escape. Never go with him to the second location.”
“The second location?”
“The second location is usually where the assault happens. I don’t want to scare you, but you need to be aware that you’re better off running.”
I felt the blood drain from my face, and fear clutched at my throat like a dark apparition dragging me off in the night. “That’s . . . that’s horrible. I don’t want to even think
about that.”
“No one ever does, but it’s important to prepare yourself.”
“I hope he’s not waiting for me when I get home.”
“After lunch, I’ll bring you back to your car and follow you home to make sure he’s not hanging around your house.”
Staci brought out our food, and I did my best to put the incident with Barry out of my head, but it was hard to concentrate. It bothered me that Barry had intruded on my date with Bronson and seemed to think it was perfectly fine to keep track of my whereabouts. How had he found out where I was? I was afraid to let my mind go down that road—afraid to find out exactly how he kept tabs on me.
About an hour later, I parked in my driveway, and Bronson pulled up to the curb outside my house. He got out of the car. “Is it okay to bring Ace inside?”
Nodding towards the front door, I slid my keys out of my purse. “Sure. Let me put Snowball in my bedroom first.”
I unlocked my door and headed inside, clucking my tongue as I looked for Snow. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.” My gaze landed on the dining room table, and I froze. There in the middle, stood the Psychotria elata plant.
The one I’d thrown away twice.
Taking a sharp breath, my eyes roamed around the room, looking for anything else that might be out of order. Everything looked just as I’d left it this morning. Snowball darted out from the kitchen. I leaned down to pick her up and headed for my bedroom, pushing open the door and reluctantly peeking inside, half afraid Barry might jump out at me. Every muscle in my body tensed, and adrenaline shot through me as my gaze bounced around the room. Nothing was out of place, but I couldn’t rest until I checked the closet. Once that was clear, relief settled over me, and I relaxed. But that relief was short-lived when I turned in the direction of my dresser drawer.
It was open a smidge and most people wouldn’t have noticed, but I was the type who liked to keep my room neat and organized, and I always shut my drawers all the way. Always. I didn’t like having an untidy room with clothes stuffed in drawers haphazardly. Opening the drawer, I sucked in a breath when my eyes fell on the disarray. My underwear, normally sitting in neat stacks, had been tossed around like someone had messed them up on purpose.
Or even worse, took each one out to handle.
A sick feeling stabbed at the inside of my stomach, and revulsion barreled through me. Bile rose up my throat, picturing Barry touching my most intimate things, and I wanted to vomit.
This was a nightmare.
How could I stay here one more night knowing someone, most likely Barry, had broken into my home, put that creepy plant on the table, and went through my undergarments? But how had he gotten in?
Bronson was right. Things were escalating, and I needed to do something about it—the sooner the better.
8
“I don’t see a point of entry,” Bronson said. “There’s no open window or broken screen. The doors remain locked and undisturbed.” His forehead wrinkled. “Have you ever given Barry a key? Maybe to feed Snowball while you’re away?”
“No, but I gave my next-door neighbor, Mrs. Chapman, a key when I went on vacation last month, but she would never give it to anyone, especially Barry. She doesn’t trust him.”
Bronson glanced around the room, appearing to think. “I have a friend who owns a home security company. He could set you up with an alarm and cameras. If I ask, he’ll even change your locks as well.”
I pressed my lips into a hard line. “How much would something like that cost?”
“Don’t worry about it. He’s a retired officer, and he owes me a favor.” He pulled out his phone and stepped a few paces away to call the friend. He spoke in a hushed voice while I stooped down to rub my hand down Ace’s soft fur.
For the first time, I thought about how nice it would be to have a watchdog. Ace’s big brown eyes bored into mine—solemn and mesmerizing and kind. I couldn’t help it—I broke down. Tears fell over my eyelashes and down my cheeks. Ace whimpered and sniffed my face as if to console me. I wrapped my arms around his thick body and buried my head in his fur.
A minute later, Bronson cleared his throat. “Allison . . . Are you okay?”
I stood to find he’d finished the call and now looked at me with concern. Hastily, I wiped the tears off my face. “I’m fine. This is just overwhelming.”
“What can I do to help? I’ll do anything.”
“A hug would be nice.”
He stepped forward and pulled me into an embrace. In the safety of his arms, I felt protected and sheltered. I let go of the tension in my body and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head against his chest. More tears streamed down my face. Bronson smoothed his hand down the back of my hair and leaned in to whisper. “It’ll be okay. I set up an appointment for my friend to come tomorrow. He’ll make sure your house is secure, and I’ll make sure he gives you the best of everything.”
“I can pay—”
“You’re not going to pay a dime. Like I said, he owes me one since I send a lot of business his way. He’s been trying to pay me back for years, but I’ve never let him until now.”
Pulling back a little, my hands still wrapped around his waist, I grimaced when my eyes fell on his shirt, soaked from the place my tears had fallen. “It’s a good thing I didn’t wear mascara today or your shirt would be inked up.”
He smiled. “Will it sound weird if I tell you I might not take this shirt off for a while?” He flashed this ridiculously charming grin that I was sure he’d used a million times to get his way.
“Are you flirting with me?”
His eyes fell to my lips, and he inched closer as if he might kiss me . . . until our lips nearly touched. “Flirting? I . . . I . . . uh.” His eyelashes flickered as he studied me, and it was as if a magnet had been attached to those lashes, pulling the breath from my chest . . . taking my heart with it.
He appeared almost dazed, caught in a trance.
“You still with me Bronson?”
He shook his head to clear it and let go of me. “Sorry, don’t know what got into me.” He blinked a few times as if coming to his senses and ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Anyway, I don’t think you should be alone in this house until my friend, Steve, is able to set up the security system. Do you have somewhere else you can stay tonight?”
I nodded. “I can crash with Emily and Ethan.”
“Great. I’ll meet you back here at the house at nine in the morning tomorrow, and Steve will set up the system. Pack a bag and I’ll escort you over there to make sure Barry doesn’t follow.” He’d switched to his business as usual police mode.
“I feel bad your friend has to work on a Saturday.”
“Don’t. It won’t take long. He’ll be in and out in no time.” He grimaced. “Point me in the direction of Barry’s house, and I’ll go see if he’s home.”
* * *
That evening, I sat with Emily at her kitchen table as we painted our nails and sipped hot herbal tea.
“Bronson went to Barry’s house to have a little chat with him, but unfortunately he wasn’t home. I’m hoping that seeing me with a cop will stop some of this behavior.”
Emily gave me a sympathetic look. “How are you holding up?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Doing my best not to worry—trying to trust the Lord.” I finished painting red nail polish on my pinkie finger and glanced up. “I thought Barry seemed harmless at first, but finding the plant back on my dining room table and my underwear drawer open . . . I feel like my privacy has been violated. The thought of him touching my things . . . it makes my skin crawl.” I shuddered. “I can’t even talk about it.”
“To be honest, you’re holding up better than I would,” Emily said.
“Just barely. Every stalker movie I ever watched keeps playing back in my head. It’s going to be hard being alone in my house. I wish I’d installed a camera so I could prove who did it.”
Emily nodded. “You definitely need a camera. I’m glad Brons
on has connections with a security guy. Hopefully, that will make you feel safer. And if it makes you feel better, you can stay with Ethan and me as long as you need to. I know it’s hard your parents don’t live right around the corner.”
“I haven’t told Mom and Dad. They’re protective of me, and I don’t want them to worry.” I gave Emily a pained smile. “Anyway, enough about me. Tell me how you’re doing.”
Emily shrugged. “I’m fine.” She fiddled with the nail polish in her hands. “Well, maybe a little discouraged.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Ethan and I have been trying to have a baby for almost a year now with no success.”
“Not that I speak from experience, but I’ve heard these things can take a while.”
“Yeah, I know.” The lines of her mouth drooped, and for a fleeting moment, she was no longer the peppy friend that always had a gleam in her eyes. “I’m just tired of taking pregnancy tests every month. It crushes my hope each and every time.”
I reached across the table and put my hand on her arm. “I’m praying for you. You know that, right?”
She nodded. We were both quiet for a few moments, and then Emily picked up a fast-drying gloss and swiped it over her nails. “So, you and Bronson . . . how’s that going?” The corners of her lips lifted in a small smile, as if talking about my love life was a welcome distraction.
“He’s an amazing guy, but I’m trying to manage my expectations. I’m looking for a solid relationship—one that will eventually lead to marriage and a family. I don’t have time for casual dating, and even though I really like Bronson, I get the feeling he’s not ready to settle down yet. I don’t want to get attached and then . . .”
“And then what?”
“Find out the relationship isn’t going anywhere. Been there, done that.” I finished painting the last fingernail on my left hand and put it under a small fan Emily had set up on the table. “I mean, I just met the guy, so I’m not saying I’m ready to marry him. But I’d like to feel confident he and I have the same goals for the future—that we’re on the same page.”
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