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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

B rooklynn stepped back into her apartment and froze.

Something wasn’t right.

She wasn’t safe.

She didn’t know how she knew and didn’t pause to evaluate.

Silently, she ducked back into the stairwell.

A voice stopped her.

“Come on in, Brookie. It’s too late for that.”

If she’d been worried before, Lenny’s voice sent her anxiety spiking.

She considered continuing downstairs to the gallery, but she wasn’t in costume, and as much as she loathed her ex-boyfriend, she couldn’t let herself be seen by anyone else in town.

If she climbed back to the attic, he’d just follow her.

He’d probably been up there already. Back when they’d been dating, she’d shown him the space.

How long had he been in her apartment, waiting like a spider for its lunch?

The thought brought a shudder, but it was Lenny. He was a jerk. He was possessive to the point of creepy. But he wasn’t trying to kill her.

She stepped into the living room, where he was sitting on her couch, arms stretched across the back, feet propped on her coffee table as if he belonged.

“What are you doing here?”

“I saw the light on.” He dropped both feet to the floor. “Since I didn’t think you were home, I figured I’d better check it out.”

She’d left the light on?

No.

She hadn’t touched the lamp, and it hadn’t been on when she’d walked in earlier. It was now, though, which was what had alerted her that something wasn’t right, though she hadn’t registered it at the time.

“You’re lying.” She crossed her arms. “How did you know I was here?”

“Believe it or not, Brookie?—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“—you make mistakes, just like the rest of us. You left the light on, and I saw it from outside.”

By his attitude and his tone, he might as well have said, stop being irrational and trust me. I’ve got it under control.

All too familiar.

How many times had Lenny deceived her to her face and then pretended she was crazy when she called him on it.

She’d had it with being lied to and treated like a fool. She should’ve known better than to trust him. She should’ve known better than to trust Forbes.

Nobody could be trusted.

“I’m calling the police.”

“I am the police.”

“Not when you’re committing a crime.” She pulled her phone from her pocket.

He was off the couch before she got it unlocked. He grabbed her wrist and, with the other hand, snatched her cell, which he pocketed. “There’s no need for that.” When he settled his free hand on her shoulder, she shrank away.

A look of hurt crossed his features. He slid her backpack off her shoulder—including the book she had stored inside—and set it on a side chair.

“I want my phone back.” She held her hand out. “Now. Or I’ll scream. Jewel will hear me. She’ll call the police and have half the town up here in a matter of seconds. And if you think for one hot minute that I won’t press charges, you’re even crazier than I thought.”

He blinked. Lips pursed, he held her phone out to her, and she snatched it, gripping it tightly.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he said. “That’s all.”

“I’m actually not okay when I come home to find a man in my apartment. Get out.”

“Stop being ridiculous. It’s just me.”

Just him. As if that should make her feel better.

What should she do? Scream or dial 911 and alert everyone that she was here—potentially including the men who’d tried to kill her?

Or try to get Lenny to leave without making a scene?

She’d hear him out for now, but she wasn’t ruling out calling the police or screaming. She’d do what she had to do.

“How did you know I was home?” she asked. “And don’t tell me the light tipped you off. It’s not even dark out yet.” Her gaze flicked to the windows. The sun was already setting? She’d been gone longer than she’d realized. Even so, that dim living room light wouldn’t show through the windows.

Lenny shifted from foot to foot, looking less like the tough cop he was and more like a little boy who’d been caught misbehaving. “I was worried about you, that’s all. I want to protect you.”

“How, Lenny? How did you know?”

He looked at her front door, which led to an outside staircase in the back of the building. “I uh…” He swallowed. “I installed a camera so I’d know when you got back.”

“Where exactly?”

“There’s one above that door, and one”—his gaze flicked to the interior staircase—“in the gallery facing the stairs.”

Fury set her hands trembling. “Where in my gallery exactly?”

“It’s a small camera. I installed it on the bottom of one of the frames on the door. When the door moved?—”

“Let me get this straight. You were ‘worried’ about me”—she added air quotes to emphasize how ridiculous it sounded—“so you spied on me?”

“It’s not spying. It’s not like I installed them in here.”

“But you are in here. So how do I know that? How do I know you haven’t put them in my kitchen or my bedroom?”

“I would never!” His eyes popped wide, then narrowed. “You know me better than that.”

“Do I? The man I thought I knew wouldn’t break into my apartment or install cameras to watch me. How’d you get in?”

The little boy was back. “I…it’s a little lock-picking kit. I just… What if you were in here and hurt, or worse? I needed to know.”

“If you thought that, then why not enter legally? Tell Jewel your worries and ask her for the key?”

The answer was obvious. He wanted to see her. He wanted to wait for her and corner her. Again, the thought brought to mind a spider, sending shudders down her spine.

“Everyone else believed your story,” he said, “that you had gone someplace safe. But I didn’t buy it.”

“Why?”

“Because…because you’ve got a life here. I didn’t see you just taking off.”

She hated that he knew her that well. She hated that she’d ever been honest with him, giving him ammunition to weaponize her vulnerability.

“Your optimism is amazing, but sometimes it gets you in trouble.”

Like when she’d believed Lenny loved her. Like when she’d trusted Forbes to be honest with her.

Yes, her optimism was a problem.

“I was afraid,” Lenny continued, “that you’d come home, hoping the men who’d chased you would leave you alone. And”—he gestured toward her as if she’d made his point for him—“here you are. So I was right. Where have you been, anyway?”

“Where I go is none of your business. What I do is none of your business. My safety is none of your business. My life is none of your business. Get out.”

“Brookie—”

“Get. Out.”

When he didn’t move, she walked past him, her pulse thumping in her ears. She needed to get somewhere safe so she could call Nathan. His partner would talk him down and get him out of her apartment.

Lenny’s footsteps followed. “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom. That okay with you?”

He grabbed her hand, but she yanked out of his grasp and bolted.

She made it to the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

Had she outrun him? Or had he let her go? She didn’t know.

“I’m calling the police.”

“No need.” His voice sounded from right on the other side of the door. “I’ll leave. I didn’t mean… I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Next time you want to not scare a woman, maybe don’t break into her apartment.”

His sigh was heavy. “I was worried, that’s all. I would never hurt you. I love you.”

“I won’t put up with your brand of love.

” She softened her tone. “It’s over, Lenny.

It’s been over for a long time.” She needed to be honest, and forceful.

She needed him to understand that she meant what she said.

So even though she didn’t want to hurt him, she added, “You need to leave, now. And don’t come back. ”

She clasped her hands together to minimize their trembling and prayed he’d do as she said.

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. And then, his footsteps retreated. A door opened, and closed.

He was gone, for now.

But not forever. She sat on the edge of the tub and dialed Nathan. He’d offered to help her with Lenny. It was time to take him up on it.

* * *

After she explained to Nathan exactly what had happened, he assured her he’d keep an eye on his partner. “Worst-case scenario, I’ll talk to the chief.”

“His father,” she said.

“In the department, even to Lenny, Leo is the chief. He’ll take care of it.”

Assuming the man could be trusted, but he’d been an owner of the charter company with the seagull logo. Maybe he’d been involved with The Network.

Was he still? Was Leo Taggart the reason the operation had returned to Shadow Cove? Was he the reason that nobody had been arrested yet?

When she asked about Bryce Dawson, Nathan said, “We’re looking for him, but he hasn’t gone home or to work all week. Portland PD is on it. When Dawson pokes his head out of hiding, they’ll catch him.”

“What about the other men in the picture?”

“Still no word.”

How could it take so long? Could someone working for the state police be in on it?

She was getting paranoid, but could anybody be trusted?

“How about his friend, the so-called Niles?”

“No leads there yet. When we find Bryce, we’ll get his partner’s name. Hang in there, Brooklynn. We’ll figure this out.”

They’d better because she needed to get back to work and on with her life. She needed this to be solved before her mother and sisters returned to Shadow Cove.

Maybe she should call Dad. He could apply pressure. He’d find Bryce and his cohorts. He’d keep her safe.

But he’d be furious that Brooklynn had gotten herself into this mess. He’d probably send her far away, and if she mentioned needing to manage her gallery, he’d scoff as if it didn’t matter.

It mattered to her. She needed to do this without Dad’s interference.

“You can’t stay at your apartment.” Nathan pulled her back to the conversation. “I can pick you up and take you anywhere you want to go.”

But if the police were compromised, and if Nathan could let slip what he was up to…

She hated distrusting people she’d known all her life, but too many people had proved untrustworthy.

“I’m all right. I have a plan.” The seed of a plan, anyway.