AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Because they’re so much help,” she scoffs.
“I know, but this isn’t just a broken window or stolen ATV, Peach. They can at least look for fingerprints or something. I’ll call them if you want.” I understand her reticence considering how that cop dismissed her last time, and she isn’t even aware that he tried to shift the blame to her when he was talking to me. But if this is Handleman, finding his prints would be enough to violate his parole and get him locked back up if they can catch him.
Her gaze sweeps around the room as she considers it. “Okay. Let’s go check your place first. I’m coming with you.” No arguments here. I’m not letting her out of my sight. She pauses on her porch to look at the glider. “At least they didn’t damage that.”
“Let’s move it to my porch for now,” I suggest, and she agrees. We load it into my truck, then park in front of my house with the headlights on to illuminate the porch and barn.
This time, I’m better prepared. Calli shivers as I pull my gun from the glovebox, and I realize she isn’t wearing a jacket. Removing my hoodie, I stop her once we’re out of the truck so I can pull it over her head. She looks like she might burst into tears as she stares up at me. My mind is a churning nightmare of thoughts right now so I can only imagine the range of emotions she’s going through. I just want to get this over with and get her to a place where she can feel safe again. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, let’s go.” We start at my house, which is still locked up. Nothing inside has been touched. The barn is also securedwithout any signs that anyone tampered with the locks or disturbed anything.
After I call the police, we unload the glider then drive back down to her place to wait for them. She’s silent as we sit in my truck. My hoodie is comically large on her. She has her hands hidden in the sleeves, her knees pulled up and her arms tucked around them.
“I’m sorry this is happening.” She nods when I squeeze her arm.
“I’m not going to tell Silver anything right now. I can get the lock replaced. Her mom is in the hospital after a bad fall. She has enough to deal with.” That explains why she’s planning to go to a hotel instead of staying with her friend.
“Calli.” She tilts her head to look at me. “Stay with me. At least until we get our internet service back and our cameras working. You’ve been in hotels for weeks.”
Her tongue peeks out from between her lips as she considers it. The flashing lights of two squad cars light up her cabin and race across the dark forest, interrupting us.
I’m glad to see it’s a different set of officers, a man and a woman. Both listen and take the time to look around her cabin, inside and out. They dust some areas that the intruder would have likely touched for prints.
After Calli tells them this is the third incident on our properties, they ask if we have any enemies, anyone we think might be targeting us. Calli shakes her head, but I’m torn on my response. I have zero evidence that this is Handleman. Only the suspicion because he was recently released from prison. I destroyed this man’s life. The last thing I want to do is sic cops on him and do more damage if it isn’t him. Then who would be terrorizing who? Let them run the prints first.
One of the officers informs us, “We recently discovered a meth lab set up in the woods about two miles down the road.They had a tent back there and the homeowner had no idea. It’s cleaned up, but we haven’t located the perpetrators. You never know what they’ll do when they’re strung out. They trash things, take stuff with no value. It may have been the same people. We’ll have patrol keep a closer eye on your road.” She hands Calli a business card. “If you think of anything else or have any further trouble, call us back.”
Once they leave, Calli leads the way back into her cabin, takes another look at the mess and rubs her forehead with a weary sigh. When she starts to clean things up, I catch her wrist. “You’re exhausted. Come and get some rest and I’ll help you clean up tomorrow. We’ll get the lock fixed and everything, okay? You’ll be able to think clearer and decide what to do.”
Her hesitation is brief. “Alright, yeah. Let me grab a few things for tonight.”
We secure her front door as best as possible from the inside and leave through the back. “Locking the barn door after the horse is gone,” she mumbles.
“You don’t want to lose anything else. Most of your records and things are okay. Although, it does look like a horse stomped through there.”
She glances up at me, snorting out a laugh. “A horse would’ve been preferable.”
“I don’t know. Horse shit isn’t exactly an air freshener.”
I’m glad to see her faint smile as we climb back into my truck and head to my house. “I need to use your shower first thing. After the gym and visiting the hospital, I’m not exactly smelling like a scented candle myself.”
She heads upstairs with her bag to get cleaned up while I put the beef stew I made yesterday on the stove to reheat for dinner. While I’m waiting for it to cook, I consider what needs to be done.
I didn’t tell the cops it may be Handleman, but if they get nothing on the prints, my next move is finding him. Staking out his mother’s house was fruitless. He isn’t there. Internet and social media searches turned up nothing. I suppose being a felon on parole isn’t something you post about.
While I’m considering what to do next, Calli bursts into the kitchen with an obvious answer. Her eyes are filled with joy—not something I expected to see in them tonight—as she announces, “I got an email from the private investigator about my dad!”
“Did he locate him?”
“Not yet, not exactly, but we know for sure the name he was using so it won’t be long. It’s just a matter of finding the hotel or short term rental he’s arranged under the alias. He was using his brother’s name. One of the night clerks at the hotel was kind enough to go back through footage of when he checked in and the investigator sent me a screenshot. It’s from two years ago, but it’s him!”
She holds up her phone to show me a black and white picture of a much older version of the man in the photo that sits on her mantel. I’m sure it doesn’t totally alleviate her fear about him. Since the picture is old, it doesn’t prove he’s still alive now, but it’s good to see the hope glowing on her face as she continues.
“He didn’t disappear off the face of the planet. He started using another name because the hotels banned him. He doesn’t have my phone number. He usually calls me, but this time, I’m going to find him.”
“That’s fantastic. I’m so happy you got some good news.” The timing was great too. It seems an obvious solution to finding Handleman—hiring a private investigator. A way to find him that isn’t sending cops to his door to accuse him if he’s innocent, but will determine where he is and if he’s our problem.
“I definitely needed it,” she agrees, peeking over my shoulder. “What are you cooking? It smells amazing in here.”
