Page 59 of Beyond Protection
Mac:Be careful driving back
The screen glowed between my hands. He was worried about me. While being stalked, Mac worried about me driving in the rain.
Eamon:Always am
Mac:Liar
Fair.
I set the phone down. Luna had moved closer, sitting beside my chair. She sighed.
"We should call it in." Michael's voice was tight. "My old department would flag this. Get ahead of it."
"With what?" I tapped the Pike Place photo. "Pictures anyone with a telephoto lens could take? Messages I can excuse as concerned observation?"
"They're stalking him."
"Prove it." I looked up. "Show me the violated statute that meets probable cause."
"So we wait for them to show up armed?"
"We wait until we have something that sticks." I pulled the message transcripts from a folder. "Look at the language. Clinical. They're building a case in their own mind. The second we involve police without evidence, we confirm the narrative that we are mishandling Mac."
Michael stood, chair scraping. "That's reactive bullshit and you know it."
Luna rose. Paced once around the table, ears back.
"You want to know what happens when we report early?" My voice was flat, emotionless. "Detective with forty other cases. Stalker's lawyer files harassment charges against Mac. Media picks it up—first openly gay MVP versus anonymous fan. Suddenly, Mac's the villain."
"And if you're wrong? If they move before we're ready?"
"Then I failed. Again."
Silence filled the air between us. Michael set his mug down carefully. Too carefully.
"Walk me through the market again," he said. "The moment she touched him."
I pulled out my phone. Opened the message thread. Turned it toward him.
He read. His jaw tightened with each line.
"She bumped him. Hard enough to make him stumble." I kept my voice flat. Professional. "Grey coat, dark hair, knit cap. Medium height. Disappeared into the crowd before I could—"
"You were right there." Michael's voice was very quiet. Very controlled.
The kind of quiet that meant he was furious.
"You said six feet away."
"Yes."
"And she walked up. Put her hands on my cousin. Made physical contact."
He set the phone down. "While you were standing six feet away."
Alex touched Michael's wrist—a small gesture.
Michael took a breath.
