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Doug watches me. “You’re pathetic.”

I wipe the blood from my mouth. “Probably.”

“You hid in the mountains for three years, then started harassing my daughter.”

“Yes.”

“You think that’s love?”

“I know it is.”

His fist clenches.

I straighten. “Who’s the man with the scar?”

“What?”

“The one following Sophie. Bald. Six-two. Scar from his jaw to his left ear.”

Doug frowns. “There was no one following her.”

“I saw him at the market.”

“You saw what you wanted to see. You’re making shit up to scare my daughter.”

“He was armed.”

“So are half the people in this county.”

“He reached for his weapon when Sophie ran toward him.”

Doug gives a humorless laugh. “And naturally, only you could save her.”

“He had a partner driving a black sedan. No front plate. Dent behind the rear passenger door.”

“Enough.”

“They watched her apartment and the bookstore for three days.”

“No one was after Sophie.”

The certainty in his voice concerns me more than doubt would. “How do you know?”

“Because I still know what’s happening in my own operation.”

“What operation?”

“The one you abandoned.”

My jaw tightens. “I left the work. That doesn’t mean I forgot how to identify surveillance.”

“It means you’ve spent too long alone up here, feeding an obsession until it became real to you.”

I step closer.

Doug doesn’t retreat.

“Find the man with the scar.”