Used to the drill by now, Vivian walked Mancini and the other officers through the recent events. She let them collect the unopened letter from the counter where she’d thrown it, and dug the manila envelope with the other letter out of her purse. Once the evidence was out of her hands, she unlocked the
back door and led them outside.
One of them took her statement while Mancini inspected the area, her flashlight making wide sweeps over the shadows. Her role done, Vivian stepped back from the scene, pretending it was the cold, not her own chilling fright, that made her hug her arms tightly around her stomach, An initial spark of terror hit at the sound of measured footsteps from the street to her back, but when she spun, she only saw the broad, comforting shape of Shadow Man approaching.
Mancini spotted him too, pausing her search.
“Hey,” Vivian called.
“He got away,” Shadow Man said without preamble. He was within touching distance now and for some reason it was natural to reach out to him. To her surprise, he reached back, pulling her toward him and wrapping his arms around her back in a hug.
Spiced heat enveloped her, along with the heavy scent of worn leather. Vivian tucked her head under his chin as he hunched protectively around her. His stubble prickled against her forehead and cheek, and under her lips she could feel the curve of his collarbone.
“You’re the friend who chased after the suspect?” Mancini asked.
“I am.” His voice rumbled in his chest.
Vivian tried to focus. “This is...”
“Zeke Harding.”
Mancini pulled out her notepad. “Zeke Harding?”
“Ezekiel, if we’re being specific.”
“Care to tell me what happened?” Mancini’s voice was deceptively polite. Vivian remembered that same tone the first time she’d made her report at the station. She was panicked, probably looking like some kind of crazed mess. It made sense that the detective had been wary. But Vivian had to hand it to her, once Mancini determined the stalker was a threat, she’d never wavered in her resolve to have him caught.
Too bad Shadow Man—Zeke—didn’t know any of that. He straightened, his arms tightening briefly around her before dropping. Reluctantly, she stepped away, only to be stopped by his taking up her hand. He didn’t look at her when he spoke, focusing completely on the detective. “I was leaving work. I heard Viv yelling at someone and saw the guy take off. I told her to get inside and call for help”
“Then you chased him?”
His sneer answered Mancini’s dry question well enough without words.
“Why?” the detective probed.
“I wasn’t sure how long it was going to take for help to arrive.”
The stress he placed on the word help must have rankled Mancini. Her mouth tightened and she flipped her notebook closed, returning it to a pocket while staring down Zeke.
“We discourage citizens from chasing after criminals, Mr. Harding.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Oh?”
Vivian rubbed her thumb lightly over his callused knuckles. His shoulders dipped, although his chin rose in polite defiance. “I’m sure you’ll see that back at the station when you run my records.”
Mancini changed tactics abruptly. “Where do you work, Mr. Harding? It’s awfully late to be conveniently out near this bakery...”
He chuckled. “You’ve heard of The Club?”
Holy shit. The Club?
The officers behind Mancini silently retreated toward their squad cars out front. The detective stood stiffly on the steps, face blank. “I have.”
“Mr. Stevens, the head of security, is still there. I was helping him with a delivery.” Zeke’s eyebrow rose and his sneer slipped further into a mocking smile. “Would you like me to interrupt him to vouch for my whereabouts?”
“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” Mancini replied. She didn’t back down completely though. “However, I would like a phone number and address where we can reach you if we have further questions.”