“You’ve found her, huh?” he asks me in a low voice, his eyes dancing with delight.
I feel myself blushing and without having to say another word, he claps his hand on my shoulder, telling me how proud he is of me.
“Now get moving son,” he urges me. “Bring the cameras and the laptop in the back of my van up here, and a new lock for our customer across the street,” he adds, looking like a man who’s just won the lottery instead of someone who’s setting up camp to catch a stalker.
Chapter Twenty-One
Phoebe
Arthur Bear is nothing like his son Max. But I do remind myself he is adopted. And that he has an adopted older brother as well.
Makes me wish I could miss my own family, but like I’ve hinted to Max. Some things are better off left in the past. Providing they don’t come back to haunt you that is.
His dad’s about my height, which is short. Round like me too, but not as curvy. With a balding gray head and shining blue eyes, he reminds me of the grandpa-type figure I’ve never had but would love if I did.
I can tell too that he’s playing it simple for my benefit but the man’s no dummy.
He’s made a plan to catch whoever’s haunting me and in record time, just happening to have everything he needs on hand in his truck?
“We install security cameras too,” he tells me, reading my thoughts, as well as Max, does, making me wonder if I really am such an open book.
Looking around the tiny apartment, he asks if he can take a look at the kitchen window. “Max said something about wanting locks on that too,” he says absently.
I want to tell him not to bother, that I’m moving in with Max, but I don’t know how much Max would want me to tell his dad, so I let him go do what he wants.
After a few minutes, I get the impression he’s keeping an eye on the back alley anyway, nothing to do with locks for my kitchen window.
It isn’t long before I hear a knock at the door, with Max’s deep voice letting me know it’s him.
I open the door and let him in, both of us sneaking a long kiss before his dad sees.
“Ah, you got all the gear? Good.” I hear Arthur comment from behind us.
Oops. So much for privacy, but then again this place is the size of a broom closet.
I feel myself flush with embarrassment but Max and his dad don’t even bat an eye, making me feel like I’m part of the team already.
Maybe even part of the family? Okay, maybe a little early for that. But Arthur doesn’t seem to be bothered by his son playing tonsil hockey with a girl old enough to be his daughter.
And why should he? Age is just a number, right?
“I got these too,” Max says, handing his dad a couple of small boxes.
“Body cams, I’ll need one when I catch this creep in the act,” Max explains to me.
“When we catch him in the act,” his dad pipes in, unpacking one and handing it to Max and then turning his attention to the laptop.
“You set those CCTV cameras where you think is best, son. I’ll patch them through to here along with the body cams. Use channel thirty-one for the two-way and I’ll hear from you once everything’s in position,” he tells Max.
“Once you’ve done all that, head across the street and fix the lock. Take your time and be sure to linger before leaving alone. We want whoever I think is watching to see you leave by yourself. Got it?”
Max nods, looking like he’s okay with taking directions from someone else for a change, but there’s a wisdom about his dad. A patience that seems to project from the man.
I’ve got no problem going along with his plans and only pray that whoever’s been doing all this actually shows up.
I don’t know if my nerves could take another full day of this.
“Max?” I hear myself squeak before he leaves. “Be careful. Please?” I beg him, not realizing how much danger I’ve probably been facing until I see how seriously the two men are taking all of this.
He gives me an intense look before ordering his dad to make sure I’m the one who’s kept safe.
“Aye, aye Captain,” his dad winks, saluting him before he closes the door. I try to feel some of the relief I felt earlier, but I only find myself starting to worry about Max now.
Even though I know he can handle himself.
“He can manage,” Arthur says without looking over to me, his head down and his glasses perched on the end of his nose as he synchronizes the body cam Max has fitted to his shirt, then his own.