She jolted when Matt tapped on the window.
“Sorry,” he said when she lowered it. “Sheriff says it’s clear.”
“Thanks. Thanks, Matt.”
She studied everything as Simon drove, everything so familiar. Could he have walked here? she wondered. Would he have risked the dogs? Would the need have overridden sense and caution? He might’ve taken the chance, creeping down, wanting a better look at the house, maybe hoping to see her sitting on the porch or weeding the garden.
Ordinary things, everyday things people do.
Walking down to get the mail, she thought, running an errand, holding a class, playing with her dogs.
Routine.
The idea he might’ve come before, might’ve studied her, watched her, stalked her—just as Perry had done—filled her with a sick dread that tasted bitter in the back of her throat.
McMahon opened her door when Simon stopped. “No signs of break-in. I can’t see that anything inside’s been disturbed, but you can tell me if you see different. We took a walk around outside, and I’m going to have Davey and Matt take another look, go a little farther out while we talk inside. Okay?”
“Yeah. Sheriff, I called Agent Tawney. I felt I should. I don’t mean to step on your toes, but—”
“Fiona. How long have you known me?”
She let out a relieved breath at the easy tone. “Since I started coming out to see my dad in the summers.”
“Long enough for you to know I’m not worried about my toes. I want you to go in, take a good look around. If you see anything off, you tell me. Even if you just think maybe.”
The advantage of a small house, Fiona thought, was it didn’t take long to go through it, even when she took the time—obsessively, maybe—to open a few drawers.
“Everything’s the way we left it.”
“That’s good. Why don’t we have a seat and talk about this?”
“Do you want something to drink? I could—”
“I’m good. Don’t worry about that.” He took a seat, continued in the avuncular tone Simon realized was designed to calm nerves and tempers. “I’ve let Davey take point on this, not because I haven’t been involved, but because I figured you’d be most comfortable with him. I don’t want you to think I’ve been brushing this off.”
“How long have you known me?”
He smiled at her, the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling deep. “There you go. What time did you leave yesterday?”
“I logged the call in at seven-fifteen. I didn’t note down the time when we left, but I’d say it was less than fifteen minutes. Just enough time to pass the call to Mai, check the packs, lock up and load up. We dropped the dogs, except for Bogart, off at Syl’s, headed over to Chuck’s. The full unit was on its way at seven fifty-five.”
“That’s good response time.”
“We work at it.”
“I know you do. I know you found those people. That’s good work. What time did you get back today?”
“We got back to Chuck’s about three-thirty and swung by to pick up the dogs. I called you right away, within a minute after we saw the scarf. Was it wet? Damp? I thought—”
“Are you trying to do my job?” He wagged a finger at her, kept the tone light. “It’s dry. We got rain last night. Didn’t get hammered as much as you, but it came down pretty hard. Could’ve dried out by this time, as we’ve had a nice sunny day. But it wasn’t there when Davey did a drive-by at nine this morning.”
“Oh.”
“You might not’ve been here, Fee, but we’re keeping our eye out. A lot of people get on and off the ferry on a nice day like this. If I had to guess, I’d say he came over today, maybe did some driving around. Sometime between nine this morning and four-fifteen this afternoon he tied that scarf out there. I say drive because you live a good piece out. I can’t see him walking out this far, or hitching.”
“No,” she murmured, “he needs a car.” A car with a trunk.
“I’ve got a couple people I can trust keeping an eye on the ferry, checking out the departures. If they see a man driving on by himself, they’re going to get the license plate. The other thing we’ll do is check with the hotels, the B-and-Bs, campgrounds, even the rental houses, but it’s going to take some time. We’ll check out any man traveling alone.”
“You’re making me feel better,” she murmured.
“That’s good. But I don’t want you to take chance one, Fiona. I’m not just saying this as the sheriff, but as a friend of your father’s, and Sylvia’s. I don’t want you here alone. If here’s where you want to be, somebody’s here with you. I want your doors locked—day and night,” he added, and the warning edge to his gaze told Simon her habit of open, unlocked doors was no secret.
“They will be. Word of honor.”
“Good enough. When you’re on the road, I want your car windows up and your doors locked. I want you to carry your phone, and I want the name of every new client you take on. Every one of them. If you get another call for a search, I want you to contact me or my office. I want to know where you’re going and how to verify it.”
“She won’t be staying here,” Simon told him. “She’s moving to my place. Today. She’ll pack up what she needs before you leave.”
“I can’t just—”
“That’s a good idea.” McMahon ignored Fiona, nodded at Simon. “It changes the pattern. I don’t want her there alone, either.”
“She won’t be.”
“Excuse me?” Fiona held up both hands. “I’m not going to be difficult, and I’m not arguing about the need for precautions, but I can’t just move out of my house, my place of business. I teach here, and—”
“We’ll work it out. Pack.”
“What about my—”
“Give us a minute, will you?” Simon asked McMahon.
“No problem.” He scraped back his chair. “I’ll be right outside.”
“Do you know how infuriating it is when you continually interrupt me?” Fiona demanded.
“Yeah, probably about the same level as when you continually argue with good sense.”
“I’m not doing that. But good sense has to coordinate with the practical side. I have three dogs. I have a business here. The equipment I need to run that business.”
Excuses, not reasons, he concluded. And he wasn’t taking any bullshit.
“You want practical? I’ll give you practical. I have a bigger house and more room for those dogs. You can’t be alone because I’m there. I work there. If he comes looking for you here, he won’t find you. If you need the damn equipment, we’ll move the damn equipment. Or I’ll build new equipment. Do you think I can’t build a fucking seesaw?”
“It’s not that. Or not just that.” She held her hands out, then rubbed them over her face. “You haven’t given me five seconds to think. You didn’t even bother to ask.”
“I’m not asking. I’m telling you to go pack what you need. Consider it a change of pack leadership.”
“That’s not amusing.”
“I’m not feeling funny. We’ll get whatever equipment, whatever supplies we can today. We’ll get the rest tomorrow. Goddamn it, Fiona, he was under a quarter mile from your house. You asked me to stay, to go against my instincts and what I wanted to do and stay with you back there. Now it’s your turn.”
“I’m taking that five seconds to think.” She spun away from him, fists jammed on her hips as she stalked to the window.
Her place—was that what was wrong with her? Her place here, the first solid building block of the new life she’d created. Now, instead of holding her ground, defending it, she’d be walking away.
Could she be that stubborn, that foolish?
“Time’s up.”
“Oh, be quiet,” she snapped at him. “I’m being driven out of my own home, so give me a damn minute to deal with it.”
“Fine. Take a minute, then get moving.”
She turned back. “You’re a little pissed that you have—or feel you have—to do this. It’s one thing for you to sleep here, another for me to essentially live in your home.”