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Tonight, he needed patience.
Using his teeth, he tugged off his glove and pulled out his phone. He thumbed out a text. He should probably send it to Polly’s stepdad, but he didn’t know if Sergeant Burke had been looped in on everything happening tonight. Instead, he contacted Joel Standage, the detective he’d met at Pearl’s Diner.
I’ve got movement outside Polly’s building. Possible perp watching the place. Any location on the brown sedan yet?
The reply came back fast.
Car towed earlier tonight matched your plate. Abandoned in Berkley Riverfront Park. No sign of Neil Porter. Figure out a connection to Polly yet?
The creep who’d cornered her at the hospital was Tate Emery. Didn’t mean the guy couldn’t have stolen or borrowed a friend’s car. Or was using an alias with Polly.
No. See if he has any connection to a Tate Emery. He’s a coworker who’s been bugging her at the hospital.
I’ll issue a BOLO on Porter. He has a record. Mostly petty stuff. Drug-related. I’ll see what I can find out about Emery.
Berkley Park wasn’t that far from here. If the guy was fit and bundled up against the cold, he could make the hike to Polly’s neighborhood in the time that had passed since the incident outside Pearl’s Diner. Daniel glanced down at the image on his phone. It was little more than a blur of shadows with the glowing tip of the cigarette. Why not hit Send? It was worth a shot.
Attaching a picture of perp. I know it sucks. Any chance you can clean it up? Get us a face to work with?
Crime lab works miracles every day. I’ll see what they can do. You staying to keep an eye on Polly?
Yes. Keep me posted.
Likewise.
He still wasn’t sure if he was ready to spend the night with Polly—it seemed like she might not be making the best choices where he was concerned. He suspected he was way too damaged for a woman like Polly to put her faith in. But he’d camp out in his truck outside to watch her place if he had to. Daniel tucked the phone away and pulled on his glove. He felt marginally better knowing he had some kind of backup with Detective Standage. But the sense of danger lurking just beyond his limited line of sight hadn’t faded.
“Come on,” he told the dogs. “Back inside.”
Since Luna was tiring, they took the stairs at a more sedate pace. On the fifth floor, he came out of the stairwell with his body slightly sideways, his blind side protected by the door until Pirate’s body filled the space instead. The dog stood, muscles bunched, nose working the air.
“Hear something?” Daniel whispered.
Pirate’s tail swayed once before he and Luna trotted over to Polly’s door. No danger yet. Just stay smart.
Daniel knocked softly with the back of his knuckles, then keyed them in. Warmth and the soft herbal scent of whatever she’d showered with welcomed them.
“Hey.” Polly’s voice floated from the hallway. “All good?”
As soon as she was unhooked, Luna trotted into the kitchen and sat in front of the counter. Pirate followed suit, sensing a reward of some kind from their pretty hostess.
Daniel hung up his coat. “Change of plans. I thought I’d be all right staying out front in my truck. But I need to stay inside your apartment tonight.”
She looked confused as she shook her head. “I never expected you to spend the night outside. It’s too cold for that.”
She paused in the kitchen with her hand at the dog treat jar. “Wait. You saw something out there? The brown car? Neil Porter?”
He wasn’t ready to tell her about the guy with the cigarette, or his text conversation with Joel Standage. No sense worrying her when he didn’t have concrete facts to report. “No visual. But I’ve got a feeling someone’s watching us, and I’d be a fool to ignore it.”
She fed a treat to each dog and shooed them out of the kitchen. He hoped he wasn’t just scaring her more, but she surprised him. “I probably wouldn’t get any sleep, anyway, if I was by myself. So, thank you.”
“No problem.” He kept the detail about the unknown man for later, when her hair wasn’t damp and her skin wasn’t still flushed from a hot shower. He tugged off his boots and dropped them onto the mat beside the door. Only then did he let himself fully take in the sight of her.
She wore sweatpants and those fuzzy socks, her damp hair leaving dark spots on the shoulders of the soft gray KCPD hoodie she wore. The tension he carried like a layer of body armor dropped another few degrees. How could he feel lighter, less like the demons in his head were winning, just by being in the same room as her?
“You look…warmer,” he said, instantly annoyed with himself for picking the least poetic word to compliment her.
She laughed, a small sound that punched clean through his chest. “You don’t. Come on. Have a seat. Kitchen’s open.” She pulled two mugs down from the cabinet, and he couldn’t help but notice how she scanned every item on the shelf before sighing and closing the door.
