Page 64 of Protecting Peyton

I nodded. “Something like that. The creep has been coming on to Peyton.”

Winston chuckled. “It would be nice if you could pin it on the guy after your girl, but it doesn’t end up that way very often.”

“She’s not my girl.” Although it would be nice if she were.

“Whatever you say, man.” He chuckled. “Is there, or was there, something going on between her and this idiot?”

“Only in his mind.” I certainly hoped my answer was correct. “Can you handle the manager and the video? I’d need to get back to cover Grace for Terry.”

“Sure thing. If his story holds up, you need to look somewhere else for your burglary.”

“I know.” I’d been hoping for the easy win, because he was my only suspect at this point. “Thanks for the backup.”

Winston strode off as I settled in my car.

Starting the engine, something about Frank Fussenbach still bothered me. But I couldn’t put my finger on it. As I left the parking lot, I turned toward Santa Monica. I had two errands to run before returning to SpaceMasters. I needed to drop off Peyton’s watch for a replacement band. It was clearly important to her. And I had to get someone to look at Peyton’s door and order a replacement.

Peyton

Terry wason Grace guard duty this morning, and he sat at March’s desk while my big SEAL was out hunting Frankie down. Terry gave me a light wave and a bigger smile as I returned from getting my second cup of coffee.

I returned the gesture.

Everyone was extra nice to me this morning, especially Grace, who had her brother, Pete, with her. It didn’t fix my shitty situation, but it felt good all the same. That’s what I liked about working here. Grace went out of her way to make everybody feel appreciated, like one big family.

A little while later, Pete, who’d just been rescued for some hellhole in the Middle East started gesturing wildly inside Grace’s office. I could see him through the glass. Grace looked calm, so I stayed where I was.

He opened the door. “I don’t need to fucking talk to someone. I tell you. I saw him. It was Xavier, clear as day.” He stomped off and out the front door of the office. Irritated was an understatement.

Grace watched him go from her doorway, then shook her head and went back into her office.

An hour later, Marci walked up to my desk, beaming a monster smile as only she could and clearly hiding something behind her back. “I think this should brighten your day.” She kept whatever she was holding hidden.

“What?” I didn’t appreciate Marci’s guessing games as much as she did.

“You have a secret admirer,” she sing-songed as she produced a bouquet of roses—blush pink ones.

My mouth went dry as I did my best to swallow my fear. “Who are they from?”

“Now you’re just being silly. Secret admirer means I don’t know. Check the card. Maybe it says.” She held out the bouquet, daring me to take it.

I stayed back like it was laced with bubonic plague. Even after all this time, my stomach revolted, remembering in vivid detail the fear of getting a bunch of pink roses. This was like the last time.

She shoved it forward again. “Go ahead. What does the card say?”

Fear had my heart beating like a hummingbird’s. “I can’t.”

“Don’t be a sissy.”

When I grabbed the tiny envelope containing the card, Karla’s breakfast almost came up. “I need to use the restroom.” I hurried toward the bathroom before I puked my guts out, fear surging through me.

“Privacy, I get it,” Marci called after me.

After the door closed behind me, I had to know, even if it was bad news. I ripped open the tiny envelope and pulled out the card. Turning it over, I read the typewritten message.

We should have dinner.

The wording differed slightly from before, and it was not handwritten, but the message was the same. The Strangler had found me again.