Page 16 of On the Chase
“Uh-huh.” She echoed his skeptical sound from earlier. “Do we need to have the stalking-is-bad talk again?”
“I’m a cop, not a stalker,” he said with exaggerated patience. “I arrest stalkers.”
“Might want to check out your house.”
“What?”
She smirked. “It’s looking a little see-through and glassy to me.”
“What?”
“Glass house? Throwing stones?”
Lips pursed, he eyed her for several seconds. “You’re not very good at telling jokes.”
“I’m an excellent joke teller!” Grace huffed.
“Uh-huh.”
The door opened behind her. “Grace?” Jules said tentatively. “You okay?”
As Grace turned toward the store, she realized that her fear had disappeared. Hugh might be one of the most aggravating people she’d ever met, but he’d made her forget for just a moment that her life was a terrifying, out-of-control horror movie.
She realized that Jules was still waiting for an answer, so Grace gave her a smile. “Sure. Should we go back in?”
Jules studied her for a long moment. As the seconds ticked by, Grace’s apprehension returned, and she fought the need to scan her surroundings again, looking for Martin or one of his flunkies. Now that she didn’t have the distraction of Hugh teasing her, all she could think about was how it wasn’t safe outside. She needed to get back into the store. As if Jules could read Grace’s thoughts, she held the door open wider, allowing Grace to reenter the thrift store.
Grace couldn’t resist sneaking a look over her shoulder as she headed through the doorway. The only person on the street was Hugh, watching her with an expression that was a mixture of heat and suspicion and a deep determination that sent a shiver through her.
Despite the comfort and distraction he’d just given her, she needed to be careful. There would be no falling for a cop—especially not one as annoying and bullheaded and beautiful as Officer Hugh Murdoch.
Chapter 6
She needed a job. Desperately.
It had only been a week. Despite having taken over the cleaning and the cooking and the packing of school lunches, Grace was bored out of her mind. It was her own fault. There was no reason she couldn’t have gone to town—to the library or to one of the touristy shops having closing-for-the-season sales, or even to have lunch at the viner. Part of the deal with Mateo Espina when she’d left California had been trading her Infiniti for another car—a Subaru—so Grace had transportation.
She just hated the thought of leaving the house. The idea of venturing into the quiet, ghostly town, with its lurking strangers and suspicious cops, made her shudder. Grace knew she had to dosomethingelse, though, because she couldn’t wander around the creaky, ancient house any longer without going a little bit crazy. The kids wouldn’t be home from school for a couple of hours, and Jules was working a double shift. Grace had gone from living a fulfilling, happy life to spooking at her own shadow and hiding in a house that wasn’t even hers.
She couldn’t even mess around on the Internet, since she didn’t have a laptop, and her new phone was a basic-model burner. To find a job, she needed to shake off her paranoia and go to town.
Now.She took a determined step toward the front door.I should go job hunting now.As she moved toward the door, Martin Jovanovic’s face popped into her head. What if he’d found her new town? What if, as she walked into the library, he grabbed her from behind, just like he’d done at his house in California? He wouldn’t even need to grab her. He could hide in the shadows and shoot her dead. All the possible ways Martin could kill her filled Grace’s mind, and she froze in place, unable to move even an inch closer to the entrance.
Tomorrow morning, then, she thought, almost running into the living room and plopping down on the couch. There would probably be more business owners around in the morning anyway. She could stop at the library to use one of their computers, have lunch with Jules, and make a whole day of it. That would work much better than trying to squeeze everything in that afternoon.
Ignoring the rational part of her brain that knew she’d be just as scared of Martin Jovanovic tomorrow, she reached for the remote and clicked on the television. It was small and old and only got a few channels, but watching it was better than peeking out the windows and imagining that she saw Martin Jovanovic hiding in the trees.
The theme song for a soap opera came on, and she groaned. She’d never watched much daytime TV before, and, after a week of her self-imposed house arrest, she understood why. Most of it was very, very bad. She lifted the remote to change the channel.
A knock on the door had her jolting from the sofa to her feet in an instant. She hesitated, her heart pounding, not sure if she should run out the back or answer the door. It was probably nothing. After all, Martin Jovanovic wouldn’t knock. He’d just barge in and grab her. Or maybe just shoot her. Or stab her. Or… Okay, she needed to stop.
The knock came again, a heavy pounding that sounded urgent and serious. She took a step toward the door, but then hesitated. Her car was parked behind the house, out of sight, so whoever was at the door wouldn’t be able to tell that she was at home.
An advertising jingle rang out from the TV, making her flinch. Fumbling for the remote, she muted the television, hoping it wasn’t too late. Had the visitor heard the TV before she’d silenced it? The knocking had stopped, though. Maybe they were leaving?
Her nerves calming at the thought, she shifted toward the window, intending to look outside. Before she could take more than a couple of steps, she heard the distinctive squeal of the front door hinges.
Someone had just broken in.
