“That’s nice of them,” I replied.
“Yeah. They’re great. I don’t know what I’d do without ‘em.”
The ice machine made a loud noise, startling the both of us.
“Talk about being on pins and needles,” Marcy said, chuckling. “You know, maybe now would be a good time to search for the .22? Seriously.”
“Good idea.”
9
Sophia
I found the rifle where I thought it had been—tucked away in a closet. After inspecting and cleaning it, I brought the .22 into the kitchen, along with a box of ammunition. I set everything on the kitchen island.
“Guns have always scared the hell out me,” Marcy admitted, staring at it with trepidation. “But, not as much as bat-shit crazy Patrick.”
I leaned back against the counter. “Hopefully, we’re just being paranoid about everything and he’s already given up on me.”
“Right. You know that’s wishful thinking.”
Suddenly, my phone chimed. I looked at the screen and smiled. “It’s just Mitch texting me.”
She looked confused. “Who?”
“The guy I was telling you about earlier. The one who owns the restaurant.” I suddenly realized something—Mitch might be able to pull up Patrick’s credit card information. He could possibly give us a name! That was, if he’d used one.
I read Mitch’s text. He wanted to know if I was interested in having dinner with him the following Monday. At his place.
Hell yes, I was. I smiled in delight.
Marcy noticed and started drilling me with questions about him.
“I honestly don’t know much more about Mitch other than what I already told you.”
She took down the ponytail from her dark hair and pulled the binder over her wrist. “So, he’s hot. Knows how to cook. Is handy. And successful. Sounds almost too good to be true.”
“I thought you said Robbie was all of those things. Minus the cooking.”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t know how to boil a pot of water.” She smirked. “Also, his taste in music leaves a lot to be desired. He loves Country, and you know me. I can’t stand it. Anyway, maybe Mitchie-Poo can help you get rid of Patrick. You’d better answer his text.”
I thought about it. I didn’t want to bring Mitch into this craziness.
What if someone actually did get hurt?
“What’s that look?” Marcy asked, noticing my hesitation.
I told her.
“I see your point.” She sighed. “But, what if you don’t get another chance like this? It sounds like you really like him. You can’t let this creep, Patrick, stand in the way of you being happy. Besides, maybe if he sees you with another guy, he’ll give up.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“Do you have that night off on Monday? Ms. Workaholic?”
“No, but I’m sure I can get someone to cover my shift.”
“You’d better start looking now.” She yawned and stretched her arms. “I’m going to get my pajamas on.”
“Okay.”
As she went to go get ready for bed, I texted Mitch and told him to call me when he had a minute. A few seconds later my phone rang.
“Don’t tell me, you’re calling to let me down softly?” he teased, a smile in his voice.
I laughed. “No. I’d love to have dinner with you.”
“Good. You had me worried there for a minute.”
“Actually, speaking of being worried…” I told him everything that had happened with Patrick.
“You’re kidding? That’s nuts,” he replied, sounding shocked.
“I know. I’m still trying to process everything that’s happened.”
“Are you okay? Would you like me to come over?”
Again, his concern made me smile. “I’m fine. I have my friend Marcy here and there’s a deputy keeping an eye on the place tonight. In case he shows back up.”
He sighed in relief. “Okay. That’s good. What a wacko. Hopefully they’ll catch this bozo.”
“I know. Hey… I know this is probably a longshot, but you wouldn’t be able to pull up his credit card information from last night, would you? So we can try and identify who he really is?”
“I wish I could. He paid with cash. I only remember because he made a big deal out of showing off his money clip. It was brimming with cash.”
“Weird. There wasn’t anything special about the clip was there?”
“No. Nothing fancy.”
“The guy is such a weirdo.”
He agreed. “You didn’t get his license plate number on the BMW, did you?”
“No. I was too freaked out to notice it.” I couldn’t even remember if it was a Minnesota license plate.
“Well, hopefully the cops will catch the psycho and you won’t have to worry about him any longer.”
“I hope so.”
“Anyway, it’s getting late. I should let you go. If you need anything, call me. I mean it. I don’t care what time it is.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“I’m working tomorrow. If you and Marcy want to stop in during the day, I’ll buy you lunch.”
“That’s so sweet of you. You don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t. But, I want to. I’d like to see you again as well. Before our date.”
I smiled. “I’d like that, too.”
After a few more words, we hung up.
Marcy walked into the kitchen wearing unicorn zip-up onesie pajamas.
I laughed. “Cute.”
She pulled the hood up and posed. “Don’t you just love it? Robbie got it for me. I told him I loved unicorns and he bought it last weekend.”
“That’s so sweet.
“Yeah. I guess he really is a keeper. So, what did your lumberjack have to say?”
I told her about the conversation and his offer to buy us lunch.
“Yum. Sounds great. I can’t wait to meet him.”
“I still can’t believe he’s interested in me.”
Her eyes grew soft. “And why wouldn’t he be? You’re beautiful, smart, and fun to be around. I wish you could see what everyone else sees.”
A little choked up, I gave my friend a hug. As I was releasing her, my eyes drew to the small window above the sink. Noticing Patrick staring back at me, I screamed.
“What is it?”
I grabbed my phone. “It’s him. Patrick! He’s outside!”
She gasped. “How did he get past John?”
“I don’t know.” I dialed 911.
Marcy raced over to the light switch and flipped the porch lights on and
