“I love you, Dad. I’m just making sure.”
He lets out a sigh. “I know that, but I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“Well, there’s nothing you can do about that. No matter what you say, I will always worry about you.”
“And as much as I love that you care about me, I do need to go. Lunch is in one hour, and I’m not ready yet.”
“Fine. I’ll let you go. Bye, Dad.”
“Bye, sweetie.” And then the line is silent.
With that over, I grab my bag and head downstairs to the street. I keep a car in the city.
It isn’t ideal. I have to get up early and move it often. Especially with street sweeping rules, but with my dad not living in the city, I need to have a car to visit him. I guess I could take an Uber, but I like the freedom having a car provides.
As soon as I step out of the building, I walk first to the florist, pick up my usual bouquet, and then I’m off to where I parked my car. It’s only a block and a half away. The street isn’t crowded, but it rarely is at this time of the day during the workweek. This street tends to be busier on the weekends because of its proximity to fabulous restaurants.
While I’m walking, my gaze scans the street, and I lock eyes with a man. He’s standing by the side of my building with a hat on. I don’t know him, but he seems to be staring at me.
There is something creepy about the way he watches me.
A shiver runs down my spine.
My police officer for a father has instilled one thing in my brain, it’s that you can never be too careful. Mind your surroundings, and always have Mace on you.
I turn quickly and move faster toward my car. It’s light out, and plenty of people are milling about, but I still rummage through my bag for my Mace, just in case.
Just like Dad would want.
When I’m standing directly next to my car, I look around but don’t see anyone at all.
The breath I didn’t realize I’ve been holding comes out in a burst from my mouth the moment the door is closed and I’m turning the ignition on and locking the doors.
It’s like I know what I’m about to do isn’t right, so I’m becoming paranoid.
Pulling the car out of the spot, I head toward the FDR Drive, and before long, I’m on my way to Reddington.
My overactive imagination is still playing tricks on me because I swear I see a car in my rearview mirror following me.
But that’s ridiculous. It’s probably not following me.
Just because it’s been two cars back since the city . . .
Trust your gut. You are rarely wrong.
Before I can think better of it, I switch lanes and then switch again. I’m not usually a reckless driver, but I need to make sure they aren’t following me.
Glancing back into the mirror, I notice they are no longer behind me.
I let out the breath.
Paranoia is a bitch.
An hour later, I’m pulling up to the small house I grew up in. It’s only been one week since I’ve been here, but today, it appears more run-down than normal in the afternoon light.
It’s never looked this bad before. The shingles are falling off now, and the paint is chipping on the house’s siding. It used to be white, but now it almost looks yellow.
The last time I was here, I didn’t notice how bad it was. But today, with the sun shining in the right locations, I can see that Dad isn’t keeping up with any of the house’s maintenance.
I wish he would let me help him. It’s not just in need of a paint job. It also needs a landscaper to come and clean up the weeds growing through the broken concrete leading up to the front door.
I’ll talk with him about it the next time I come to visit him, but seeing as I’m not here right now . . . It will have to wait.
I fish out my keys from my bag, looking around my shoulder to make sure no one is out watching me, and then I’m walking up the two steps to open the door.
He doesn’t have an alarm. That’s not smart for a retired detective, but this is a small town. I bet he thinks no one would dare break in.
Wrong bet, Dad.
The moment I step inside the foyer, I’m relieved. He’s not here and won’t be for some time. I don’t have time to dally, so I head straight for the office.
When I’m inside, it’s just as messy as it was the last time, so I won’t be able to lift the file. I’ll just scan with my phone and print them out later. I’ll take pictures of the sticky notes, too. Once I’m home, I can sort it out, but for now, I need to be as quick as possible.