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My eyes constantly flit to the rear-view mirrors, but I don’t notice a blue car following me during the trip. Bastien blocks most of my view, but I’m sure he’s watching as well. If we’d picked up a tail, he would have told me.
The guard at the gate doesn’t seem surprised to see me mid-morning on a Sunday. “Good morning, Ms. Crenshaw. The boss wants your car to be scanned for trackers. Park your car under the portico, and it’ll be taken care of for you.”
“Do you know if anything was found in Bastien’s truck?”
“Sorry, Birdie. I wasn’t informed. I’ll have someone meet you for your keys. He’ll be able to tell you more.”
“Thanks.”
I pull through, leaving Bastien to talk with the guard, anxious to get a report on whatever tracking system was used to find me yesterday. Frank, a fifty-something, retired Marine, waits at the entrance for me. “Morning, Frank,” I say when he opens my door. “I’m surprised to see you here on a Sunday.”
“Ms. Crenshaw,” he says in greeting. “When I heard about what happened and that Knot thought you’d been tracked, I came in to see to the situation myself.”
He follows me to the back, where I unload my weekender and computer bag. “I’ll drive your car to the motor pool for a thorough scan. You can pick up the keys from the security desk this afternoon.”
Hoping the answer is no, I ask, “That’s fine. Did you find anything in the scan of Bastien’s truck?”
Frank’s grim expression means the news is bad. “Yes. I could give you the basics, but the full report has already been sent to you and the boss.”
With a nod, I haul my bags inside and rush to my office. Don’t freak out, Birdie. Remain objective and keep a cool head.
Until now, I hadn’t let myself dwell on the possibility that someone had been watching my every move, intent on abducting me. Guilt settles heavily on my shoulders when I realize the culprit would have had to place the tracker in Bastien’s truck while we slept. And now, the bastard knows where Bastien lives.
As I push through my office door, I give up any hope of logical detachment. This bastard came for me, but since he failed, he might go after Bastien for getting in his way. There’s no way I can let that happen.
Barely a minute later, my computer is on, and I’m pouring through the report when a big body drops into one of my guest chairs. “What’s the story?” Bastien asks.
“A tracker was found attached to your truck.”
Despite the temper he likes to warn me about continually, Bastien doesn’t react to the news. I look up from the screen to find him studying me. “You don’t seem surprised,” I say.
“No. Knot was right. It’s the only thing that makes sense. How else would this guy have known to look for you at a dog park?”
Bastien leans forward, placing his forearms on my desk. “Did our people locate the signal following it?”
“No such luck. The device was low-energy Bluetooth, the kind you can get from any store selling cell phone accessories. You can even find them at many gas stations. The devices are anonymous to everyone except the person who’s tracking them. Not even the manufacturer can pull owner information off the device. Even if they could, there’s a good chance the user is set up on a burner phone under a fake name.”
“So, basically, the tracker is a dead end.”
I lean back in my seat and sigh. “Yep. My car is being scanned now, but given this information, it doesn’t matter what they find. At this point, I can only wait and hope the police make an ID on our asshole.”
Bastien pushes up from the chair and says, “So, you’re going to stay here. All day.”
There’s no point in arguing, even if I had reason to. “Yeah. I’ve got some work I can do, and though there isn’t hot food in the café, there’s the usual weekend cold fare.”
Bastien looks anywhere but my face and nods. “Since you’ll be safe here, I’ll leave you to your work.”
I know why he wants to rush off, or at least I’m semi-confident I know why. Still, it stings that he’s so eager to get away from me. Just before he disappears through the door, I call out, “Bastien.”
He turns slightly, the tightness in his eyes telling me he’s worried about what might come out of my mouth. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t hurt just as much. Holding back a sigh, I say, “Thank you for looking out for me.”
Bastien’s shoulders sag in relief. “Anytime, Birdie.”
And then he’s gone.
Bastien
Walking from Birdie’s office, I finger the keys in my pocket, the ones just given back to me by security. I’m finding it hard to leave. My steps grow slower and heavier the closer I get to the entrance, which is precisely why I have to go. I’ve gotten too close already, and my stupid ass has nearly gotten Birdie killed.
