Page 75 of Capturing You

Less than a minute later, a man came on the line. “Brooklynn? Are you all right?”

At the sound of Lenny’s voice, she was tempted to hang up. “I asked for Nathan.”

“He stepped away.”

Sure he did.

“Are you safe?”

“I’m fine.” She wanted to call him on stalking her the previous day, but if she did that, he’d know exactly where she was. “What happened to Lois last night?”

He related the events from his perspective, and Brooklynn couldn’t help picturing the whole thing. Lois lived in a two-story garrison-style house a mile or so from town on a little country road. It sat on two acres, far enough from the neighbors on either side that, this time of year, their houses weren’t visible through the trees.

Lenny told her that, about an hour after the power went out, three men had burst through the door leading to the garage.

“Lois admitted she never locks the garage door that opens outside,” Lenny said. “Looks like they picked the lock that leads to her kitchen. She’d gone to bed. They dragged her out and made her sit in the living room and demanded to know where you were.”

Brooklynn squeezed her eyes closed, trying to block the image of her sixty-five-year-old mentor surrounded by masked men.

“Did they hurt her? She said they didn’t, but…” But would Lois have told her?

“Fortunately, no. They threatened to, though. Where are you?”

“I’m safe.”

“Brookie, just tell me?—”

“Don’t call me that. I hated it before, and I hate it now.”

His sigh was long-suffering, as if she were being unreasonable. “You need to tell me where you are.”

“What have you uncovered? Any idea who they were? Or what’s going on at the inlet?”

“Until you file an official report, I’m not authorized to share information with you.”

“Can I file a report over the phone?”

“You need to file in person.”

She didn’t know if that was true or not. “I’m not coming in. Those people are still looking for me.”

“Just give me the address where you are.” His tone was so reasonable, as if it were the perfect solution. “I’ll come to you.”

Was he keeping her in the dark as some sort of power trip? As a way to find her?

Brooklynn didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. She wasn’t telling him or anyone where she was. “Did you get any information from the pictures? Were you able to identify?—?”

“I’m not authorized to share?—”

“Sure you’re not.” Typical. When they’d been dating, he’d given her all sorts of information—not because he wanted her help. He’d liked sharing his cases, liked giving her an idea how good he was at his job. How competent and talented. Never once had he suggested he wasn’tauthorizedto tell her.

“Why do you have to make everything so difficult?” His words came out too loud. He lowered his volume before adding, “How can I take care of you if?—?”

“I don’t need you to take care of me, Officer Taggart. I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

She was sick of histrust me, I know what’s best for youattitude. As if she couldn’t be trusted to make her own decisions. As if she had nothing to offer or add to a conversation. As if she were irrelevant, and too much trouble.

She wasn’t going to let him get away with it anymore.