“We’d appreciate it,” Marcy said before I could reply. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Of course. In the meantime, keep your doors and windows locked and give me a call if he harasses you again.”
I nodded. “Oh, I definitely will.”
“And if you do see him driving around town, get his license plate number. I’d like to run it and see who this dipshit really is,” he added.
“No shit. We’d all like to know,” Marcy said.
A short time later, Officer John Hishaw, the guy in the second squad car, followed us back home to the cabin. Apparently John was a new guy on the force and seemed very eager to help out. Not to mention that he was good-looking, which piqued Marcy’s interest.
“I thought you were head-over-heels in love with Robbie,” I said, during the car ride home.
“Don’t get me wrong, I adore the guy.” She wiggled her finger on the steering wheel. “But, when one doesn’t have a ring on the finger, one can still keep her options open.”
I snorted. “Honestly, though, I think dating a cop would be too stressful. You’d always be worried about them making it home at night. I mean you would know this better than anyone.”
Her face grew serious. “Very true. Look at what it did to my parents’ marriage.”
Marcy’s dad had been a homicide detective who’d spent more time at the bar than at home. He’d also worked long hours, so she’d barely seen him. Eventually, her parents divorced and his drinking became even more problematic. After hitting rock-bottom, he finally met a nice woman at one of his AA meetings and things worked out in the end. But I knew that Marcy still harbored some resentful feelings toward him.
“True. How are your parents, anyway?” I asked.
“Doing well. Mom is taking a cruise next month and excited as hell. She wants me to join her. You, too. She loves you, you know.”
“I love her, too. I wish I could go. A cruise sounds amazing right now.” I sighed dreamily.
“Yeah, I agree. Anyway, she’ll have fun with her friends. They always do.”
We talked about her family as we headed the rest of the way to my place. After pulling up next to the cabin, we watched as John parked his squad car at the end of the gravel driveway, by my mailbox.
“We should make him some coffee. So he doesn’t grow tired,” Marcy said as we got of her car.
“Good idea. You can bring it to him,” I teased.
She smiled and winked. “Oh, you know it.”
We started walking to the porch and I suddenly had a chilling feeling that Patrick was out there, hidden in the darkness, watching us.
Marcy must have also felt some of the same paranoia, because she glanced nervously toward the woods. “I hate this. You know, I bet the bastard is probably spying on us right as we speak.”
“Let’s hope not.”
“You don’t have that old .22 rifle your dad gave you, do you?”
I’d forgotten all about it. Although I wasn’t a hunter, we used to go target shooting together. It had been years since I’d taken it out, cleaned, or fired it. “Yeah, but I don’t know if there are any bullets.”
“Now might be a good time to look.”
As much as I couldn’t see myself ever shooting anyone, Patrick scared the hell out of me. If anything, the gun might possibly provide some kind of leverage if he broke in.
I pulled out my keys and unlocked the front door. “I’m pretty sure it’s in the guest bedroom. Up in the closet. I’ll have to go and find it.”
Marcy suddenly grabbed my hand from the doorknob. “Hold on.” She lowered her voice. “What if he’s inside?”
I swallowed. I didn’t want to believe Patrick was truly that dangerous, but what did we really know about this guy other than he was obsessed with me?
Marcy reached into her purse and pulled out a can of pepper spray. “Stay behind me,” she whispered.
She led the way into the cabin. She flipped on the living room light and we cautiously stepped further into the place. After checking each room and finding the cabin empty, we made sure the windows and doors were secure.
“You know what you should do? You should get yourself a dog,” she murmured, pouring us each a glass of wine afterward. “A Rott or a Pitt. Something that would scare the hell out of an intruder.”
“They’d scare me, too,” I joked.
“Some dogs just get bad raps. Besides, they worship their owners. You just have to get them trained and show them who’s boss.”
“I actually wouldn’t mind a Lab or a Husky. I’m just never home. The poor thing would get lonely.”
“Get two dogs then.”
I snorted. “Easy for you to say. I just bought all new furniture and I’m still paying it off. They’d destroy it while I was gone.”
“So you’re saying your furniture is more important than your welfare,” she mused.
“Stop. You know the time just isn’t right for me right now. Maybe someday, but not when I’m barely here to water my plants.” I motioned to a fern that was hanging by the window. The poor thing looked parched. I walked over and began filling a cup of water. “Seriously, I refuse to do that to an animal.”
“Gah. I still think you should consider it. You know the only reason why you’re putting in so many hours at work is because you’ve requested it. You told me yourself.”
She was right. I hated having a mortgage and was trying to pay down the principal.
“Fine. I’ll think about it. Just quit nagging me about it.” She’d been teasing me about getting a dog for years. She had a German Shephard named Layla, who I had to admit, was a pretty awesome dog. She was still young, however, and pretty rambunctious. “Speaking of dogs, you should have brought yours over.”
“What, and watch her wreck your furniture? I’d never hear the end of it,” she teased.
We both laughed.
“Anyway, the neighbors are
