Page 157 of Show Me

I swallow. “From your truck?”

A sharp shake of his head. “Yes.” The word lands heavy. “It’s been missing for a few weeks. I noticed it one morning when I left.”

“Here?”

“Yes.” His jaw clenches. The muscle ticks once. Twice. “They watched you.” His gaze drops to the tape measure. “And they got close enough to take something from me.”

Neither of us speaks. The wind rattles the fence. Squirt presses against my leg.

The cameras. The locks. No matter what we do, someone still manages to go around it. Without us noticing.

Chapter Eighty-Three

Xavier

By the time Jake’s truck pulls into the driveway, the sun is up and nothing is moving in the trees. My hands ball into fists. I’m tired of this guy’s shit.

Behind me, the back door opens and closes as Ruby’s friends step inside with her. They arrived within minutes of her call and are retreating to the kitchen to warm up. She couldn’t ask for better friends if she tried.

Jake’s truck door slams. Boots on gravel. “Alright,” he says as he walks up beside me. “Show me.”

I don’t answer. Just point. His gaze follows to the photo of Ruby in the kitchen, taken at a distance. Likely the tree line near the house. My tape measure hanging near it.

Even though I touched the items before we realized what they were, I put them back where we found them so Jake could get a clearer picture of what we’re dealing with.

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

He stands, eyes already moving, pen, fence line, tree line, then toward the driveway. “Someone is fucking with you. You say this was from your truck?”

“Yeah, it’s been at least a couple of weeks.” I raise my shoulder. “Or longer. I noticed it was missing one morning when I was leaving here. They could’ve taken it from here or a job site. Hell, it could’ve even been when I was at the office.”

His jaw tightens as he walks over, studies the items closer, then exhales through his nose. “That’s creepy as fuck.”

“Thank you for that.” Because that part’s obvious. Someone snuck onto a job site and took my tape measure. Maybe when I was on the phone. Or went to lunch. Or right in front of my fucking face. Who knows.

And Ruby? No matter how much protection I place on her, someone is still standing outside the capture zone, watching her. Taking photos. And leaving gifts.

Jake glances back toward the house. “Ruby okay?”

“She says she is.”

Jake nods once, like he knows what that means. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

He heads for the house without waiting. I follow, one last glance at the yard before stepping inside. The warmth hits wrong after the cold.

Ruby is on the couch between Bella and Emily, a blanket pulled around her shoulders. Squirt’s pressed tight against her shin, low and watchful.

Ruby’s eyes track everything. Door. Windows. Us.

Jake leans over the laptop on the coffee table. “When’d you go to bed?”

“Maybe four.” Her voice is steady. Too steady.

Jake scrolls through the screens. We left Bella and Dominic’s place before midnight. Clearly, we didn’t drive around town until 4:00 a.m. But I’m not answering any of those questions, and Jake’s not asking.

The footage runs fast. Wind pushing through the trees. Branches shifting. A raccoon cuts across the yard and disappears. Nothing.