Page 24 of Rules

"Tim, notice he didn't say 'there's no one I'm interested in.' Or 'no one I'm wanting to tell you about right now.' Just 'no one.' Which means he's covering up and there is someone. However he's just not wanting to share it with us right now." Dianna's analysis would be impressive if I wasn't the one being analyzed. Many times I've said that it's not too late for her to become a detective.

"Is Dianna right? Because usually she is." Tim asks, winking at his wife.

I just shake my head and sit back in my chair. "All right, listen. Truce, there was someone who I thought I might like to get to know better, but it didn't pan out. And no, I am not telling you who it is." I point a finger at Dianna before she can press further. "Don't even think about pushing me, cause I'm not telling."

"Is it someone I know?" she asks anyway.

"Dianna..." Tim warns, recognizing my growing discomfort.

She taps her spoon against her bowl thoughtfully. "Interesting, very interesting. I think you aren't through with this mystery person."

"It's over. Nothing will come of it." I sit back and say with finality.

"That's his 'I don't want to talk about it anymore' tone," Tim explains to Dianna.

"I love you both for caring about me. But I don't want to date," I say, softening my tone. "Right now, I've got bigger concerns. Like figuring out who's behind these break-ins before someone gets killed."

"Speaking of that," Tim says, mercifully changing the subject, "have you warned all the business owners to be extra cautious? Especially the ones who work alone?"

The image of Ruth in her shop, vulnerable and unaware of the danger, flashes in my mind. "We're working on it. Actually, I'm stopping by several businesses tomorrow morning to talk about security measures."

"That's a big undertaking, this town has a lot of small businesses." Dianna points out. I simply nod my agreement to her statement knowing full well she is trying to get me to unconsciously admit something.

The rest of the evening passes with safer topics—Dianna's family, their work, debates about getting a pet. As I'm getting ready to leave, Tim walks me to the door while Dianna cleans up in the kitchen.

"Dad," he says as we reach my pickup, "whoever she is, it's okay. Mom would want you to be happy, you know."

I look at my son, surprised by the sudden lump in my throat. "I know, son. I know. But honestly, it didn't pan out."

"For what it's worth," he adds with a small smile, "I don't think Janice from the hospital was right for you anyway."

For a moment, I consider telling him everything about Ruth, about the age difference, about my fears and reservations. But old habits die hard.

I hugged him goodbye. "Thanks for the chili."

Driving home, my mind is split between three concerns: the break-ins growing more violent, my son gently pushing me toward a life I can't have, and Ruth, alone in her shop everymorning, potentially the next target in a series of escalating attacks.

I've already made the plan to go speak with Ruth tomorrow morning. I told the deputies I would take the strip mall, I'm committed now. I sighed, "Now why did I go and do a foolish thing like that."

Chapter 10

Tobias

Sunday morning dawns with a heaviness that's more than just the gray clouds promising rain. I've been up since before five am, unable to sleep, my mind cycling between the injured business owners, Ruth's shop not being protected to the level it should be, and in the back of my head, Michael. He seems to have taken up permanent residence there.

But the main sleep interrupter is who is behind these break-ins? And why? It's clear they are a well organized group. They leave zero traces of themselves, no fingerprints because they wear gloves, no tangible descriptions because of the masks. Shit, even the video of the van shows nothing but a plain white utility van. Nothing special there. I was hoping to get the license plate number of the van but that would have been too easy. The video was too grainy for us to make it out. Another dead end.

Buttoning up my uniform shirt I thought over the decision to handle the strip mall security check myself. At the time it seemed logical to me to handle it myself. Even though I can'thave Ruth, her safety is still of primary importance to me. I'd be crushed if something happened to her. But now, as I pull on my uniform and strap on my utility belt, I'm questioning my judgment. Perhaps, I should have taken a different area.

My phone buzzes as I pour my coffee into a travel mug. Law.

"Please tell me you have good news," I answer, foregoing any greeting as this seems to be our preferred method.

"Maybe. Potential sighting of our friend in Texas. San Antonio, specifically."

"San Antonio? What the fuck would he be doing in Texas?" My grip tightens on the phone. "How reliable?"

"The ladies put together a tracking program based on the direction of his travels. They then hacked the cameras along the main highways and interstates. Facial recognition hit on a toll camera in San Antonio."

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