Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
"Good job, Jersey. They're pulling in now."
I breathe a sigh of relief before ending the call. I know someone else on the team will have Casper on the line, so there's no sense in pulling him in two directions.
Three SUVs pull up outside of her house, each one strategically placed for optimal sight on the house and protection for us standing on the opposite side of them.
"Casper is working through facial recognition," Hemlock says when I join him beside one of the vehicles. "We have—"
The crunch of gravel draws all of our attention, and I know I'm frowning when the lone police car pulls up. I'm ready to spit nails when a guy climbs out who looks like he just graduated from the academy this past weekend.
He struts toward us like he has plans to save the world today, and it grates on every exposed nerve I have.
"The house isn't on fire," he says, his eyes sweeping over each of us.
I can tell the second he decides he doesn't like us. His shoulders hitch up a little higher as if he thinks he can take us all on in a fight and come out the other end victorious.
I know he was told there was a fire because nothing moves cops up a mountain like the threat of dry trees lighting the tourist destination up.
"It's a hostage situation," Hemlock says, standing at least four inches taller than the sheriff's deputy. "Where are the rest of your force?"
"A hostage situation?" He swallows, and I see the fear form on his face.
He can man up and face a bunch of us, but the threat of what he would consider real danger makes him want to cower away and change the direction of his entire life. Maybe a job at Scott Wilson's dinner and movie theater is in his future.
I scowl in his direction.
"And who are you? Rival gang members?"
"Boy," Hemlock says with a growl. "We called you out of courtesy. Now, get some real cops here and go sit the fuck down."
"That sounds like a threat—"
The man-child snaps his mouth closed as he slinks back a few steps when Zeus inches closer to him.
"I'm calling b-back u-up," he stammers as he walks back toward his car.
"You do that," Hemlock says as he turns his attention back toward the house.
"We can't wait for more cops," I say, terrified at what could already be happening to her inside.
"I have no intention of waiting. We just have to figure out the best game plan," Hemlock says.
Chapter 35
Caitlyn
Terror has attached itself to every cell of my being.
I'm trembling, somehow both freezing and feeling like my skin is on fire.
I'm on the sofa, watching as Miles Lee paces back and forth.
I can't count the number of times I prayed I'd never see the man again. He has always been a little unstable. I was ordered to provide therapy for his two children after their mother committed suicide in their family home.
Understandably, the children were struggling in school, and there was concern that Miles was struggling as a widower to take care of them. Child Protective Services got involved and it was a whole ordeal. I had always wondered, as I guess many do, why the wife would choose to leave her family behind. Although I never witnessed any type of abuse, I voiced my concerns to the court when they would flinch at the slam of a door or tense up when the man came into the room.
He attached himself to me during the very first meeting I had with the kids, trying to use my time with the kids for himself, and was adamant that he didn't need therapy after I brought his actions to his attention. I didn't know if he was staying so close to keep the kids from confessing what might actually be going on in the home or if he had some sort of attachment to me because I was the first woman back in the home after his wife died.
His behaviors got more and more erratic, to the point I had to notify the court that I could no longer see the children because I didn't feel comfortable with being around him.
It was an easy break, or so I thought.
It never went as far as having to get a restraining order against him. He'd only shown up at the office I rent space in once, and he left immediately when I told him he needed to. I haven't seen or heard from him since that incident which occurred ten months ago. I've wondered about the family often but had no right to reach out to the courts or the new therapist for an update, so I don't know what they've been going through recently.
I haven't even considered that this man would've been the one slinking around my house. I have no idea how he got my address, but it's likely he followed me home from the office one day just like Wilson followed me from Catalyst. The idea that I'm so easily found makes my skin crawl. It makes me consider that I've been unsafe every single day of my life because I can't control what other people do and whether they seek me out without me knowing.