Page 5 of Pack Coffey

"It's a date," he says with a full smile.

"Great," I tell him, slowly walking away backwards.

His lips quickly drop into a frown as he looks around for the first time. "Where's your car?"

"In my parents’ garage back home," I answer with a shrug. "Everything here is within walking distance. More trouble than it's worth to have it here."

Glancing at our surroundings, he asks, "You don't know me very well yet, but I can promise you that I'm not a bad person."

My brows furrow as my feet stop moving. "I didn't think that you were."

"I'm just trying to figure out the politest way possible to demand that you get into my car," he states. "I can't in good conscience let you walk home in the dark. Even if you live next door."

I want to argue with him and tell him that I've got my phone, pepper spray, and a hidden knife on my keys, but I don't. I can't count on both hands how many of the cases that I've researched started just like that. A person taking their safety for granted.

"Okay," I tell him, slowly walking back to his car. "But just so you know, I've got a cop on speed dial."

Technically, I'm halfway telling the truth. I do have Saint's number saved, but he's not on my speed dial. Yet...

His lips press together in a sly smile. "So do I."

The air is starting to get a crispiness to it, it's chill touching my skin even through my jacket, so I'm grateful when he turns the seat warmers on when we get into his car. I'm not a car person, but I think it's an older model. Which doesn't really make one bit of difference since it's so nice and clean on the inside and the outside. Even has that new car smell to it that mingles with his latte scent, helping keep my brain afloat and not drowning.

"I'm just a couple blocks over," I tell him as he backs out and maneuvers onto the road.

"Just point me in the right direction," he says, letting me guide him to my home.

With no traffic on the road, we're only a three-minute drive away, leaving no time for more conversation. He doesn't get out or even put the car in park when he pulls up to the curb in front of Ms. Harbbor’s house.

"Thanks for the ride," I tell him, unbuckling and steppingout.

"Anytime," he says, one side of his lips pulling up.

I wave at him before walking around the side of the house. I'm halfway down the driveway before I hear him pull away. I snort a quiet laugh as I think about what he was probably thinking with me walking around the house like I did. I wonder if he thinks I'm having to sneak in or something.

I'm still chuckling a bit even as I let myself into my tiny house, flipping the lights on and locking the door behind me. I spend the next couple hours recording a new podcast and video to upload. When I finally fall into bed, it's early into Saturday morning. Almost early enough to hear one or two birds chirping outside.

I've barely slept for a few hours when I hear my phone ringing. Reaching out, I fumble around my small table where I normally plug it up on the charger. When my hand comes up empty and it continues to make noise, I grumble as I get out of bed to find it, remembering as I grab it that I left it charging by my laptop last night.

"Hello?" I mumble into it.

"Darci," a voice I recognize says. "This is Saint. Did I wake you?"

"Yeah," I answer honestly with a yawn. As exciting as it is to hear his voice, I'm running on very few hours of sleep, and I get pretty grumpy when that happens.

"I'm sorry," he states, sounding like he's in a car. "Would you want to go for a ride with me?"

"Now?" I ask, pulling the phone away from my ear to glance at the time. Eight forty-two. I've gotten almost exactly four hours of sleep.

"—and we want your opinion," he's saying as I pull my phone back up. "I want your opinion."

I crunch my eyes closed and almost regret letting him talkme into this. "I can be ready to go in thirty minutes."

"We can stop for coffee first," he offers.

"I'll be ready to go in fifteen," I declare.

He chuckles, and I like the way it sounds. Giving him my address, I hop in the quickest shower of my life. When I get out, my wet hair goes up in a messy bun on top of my head before I toss on the smallest amount of makeup to try and hide the dark circles under my eyes. I hear his car pull up outside just as I'm tossing the same jacket on from last night and grabbing my things.

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