Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
I was instructed to wear normal clothing—no dressing up at all—so I left the house in leggings, an oversized t-shirt, and an oversized hoodie that I’d stolen from Dima after his Air Force graduation.
I put on some oversized glasses that would hide the fact that I hadn’t bothered to put on any makeup, and pocketed the Jeep keys—I loved leggings that actually had pockets.
It was as I made it outside that my phone rang.
I answered it, despite the number being unfamiliar to me.
I got a lot of phone calls from random numbers, seeing as I advertised my number on my blog for people to call me if they ever wanted me to play secret shopper for their business.
I got a lot of random calls.
But there was one particular person that I didn’t have a number for that I wanted to call…
“You rang,” Haze drawled.
I wouldn’t look into how excited I was that he was calling me back, but only because he had stalkerish tendencies.
I should probably be way more freaked out, but I wasn’t.
Over the last month, I almost felt…empowered.
I loved that he was watching my every move.
I loved even more that he was obsessed with me like I was with him.
He’d been my every waking and sleeping thought since we’d had our encounter in the bathroom in my favorite fast-food restaurant.
“I see you got my message,” I replied.
“The big, bold ‘CALL ME ASAP’ definitely got the point across,” he said. “I should’ve left you my number.”
“I can’t say that we’re thinking all that clearly or rationally here. But listen, so I got a comment on my ice maker review that I thought might be interesting to you.”
“What did it say?” he asked, sounding a lot more serious.
I pulled my phone away from my face and sent the link to the ice maker review to his cell phone.
“Sent it,” I said. “It’s the last review. The one that says, ‘ReviewerX: Glad to see you finally got a product to test, and not something more…questionable.’”
There was a moment of silence as he followed the link, then read it.
He said something to himself, or maybe his partner, and then replied, “Have you gotten comments like this before?”
“No,” I said. “I mean, I get a lot of comments, a lot of which asking me questions about the product. But never anything like this. It almost felt…personal. Like he knew what happened.”
“It does,” he said. “I can set the computer techs on this, but I know that your brother has someone else that’ll look into this a whole lot faster, with a lot less legal hoops that need to be jumped through.”
My brows rose. “You want my brother to look into it?”
He paused, his words coming out carefully. “I would rather find the answers we’re searching for, with you safe, than have to put this through the correct channels with nothing to show for it.”
He was very careful not to say that he didn’t trust this particular case to be done correctly.
Cell phones and all that jazz.
“Are you not going to get in trouble for calling me?” I asked curiously.
“Talking to a suspect that asked me to call her? No.” He chuckled. “Usually when someone tells me that they have information about the case, I don’t differentiate between suspect and helpful citizen. I don’t care who gives me the information, as long as I get it.”
I smiled.
But I realized that whatever was said on this line was likely being recorded, so instead of asking him what was going on at work with the FBI or whether he thought maybe he’d want to come over for dinner, I chose to keep myself quiet.
“If you have need of me, I’ll be out and about today. I’m doing a secret shopping experience at two boutiques today if you feel like maybe you have further questions,” I said carefully.
“Which boutiques?” he asked, also very carefully.
I replied with the names and then when I would be at both places before we hung up.
I shoved the phone in my purse, then was about halfway to my car when I noticed the figure leaning on it.
I blinked when I saw Dima there, looking angry.
“Dima!” I cried out and ran toward him.
He caught me easily, squeezing me tight, and said, “Why, exactly, did I find out that you’re living in the slums?”
“How did you find out?” I asked as I pulled back.
“Apparently, Shasha has a LoJack on the Jeep. He’s known you were living here since you had the car.” He paused. “Which, might I add, he’s not very happy about. He’s giving you the benefit of the doubt, but I can tell you for certain that he’s not very happy about the security here.”
I sighed.
I knew he’d find out eventually, but I’d really hoped that I would have more time.
Plus, now that I knew my neighbor…