By Request Collection April-June 2016. Оливия Гейтс
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are jealous.” The idea of that thrilled her to the bone. It made the nerves that had been growing tighter in her stomach ease.
With his hand on the doorknob, all Duncan said was, “Ready for this?”
“Yes.”
He pushed through the doors. Piper immediately noticed the scent of fried onions, grilling meat and coffee, and the sounds of an old-fashioned jukebox pumping out country music. In the kitchen, Edie, with her cloud of tightly curled red hair and a pair of reading glasses perched low on her nose, turned a welcoming wave into a thumbs-up gesture before she turned back to flip a burger high in the air. There was a smattering of applause from the customers at the counter.
“Corner booth to your right,” Duncan murmured before he steered her in that direction. The booths surrounding it were empty, partly due to the fact that at two-thirty, the lunch rush was over and partly due to the “Reserved” signs on the tables.
Piper spotted Sheriff Morris Skinner first. His hair had gotten a bit thinner and grayer, his midsection a little thicker since she’d seen him last, but the smile was the same. The other man with a smaller build sat across from him. Piper couldn’t prevent the knot of nerves from tightening again in her stomach.
When they reached the booth, Duncan slid in beside Patrick Lightman and she took the space opposite beside the sheriff. It was such a smooth maneuver, boxing in Lightman and putting her across from him—Piper couldn’t help but wonder if Duncan and Skinner had planned it out in advance. Or perhaps it was bred into the gene pool of men who had been born to protect and serve.
Then she pushed the errant thought away and focused her entire attention on Patrick Lightman.
“Ms. MacPherson, I’m so happy to make your acquaintance.” He stretched out a hand.
Skinner gripped Lightman’s wrist and set it back down on the table. “Hands to yourself. That was part of our agreement.”
“Sorry.” Lightman kept his eyes steady on Piper’s.
They were intense and very blue. And they’d registered no surprise at Duncan’s appearance. Since she’d taken her seat, he hadn’t looked at anyone but her.
“Why exactly did you want to meet with me, Mr. Lightman?”
A thin smile curved his lips but didn’t reach his eyes. “I wanted to thank you.”
If he was hoping for a “you’re welcome,” he was plumb out of luck. In the silence, Piper continued to study him. The man looked just as he had in his photos and in the shots of him that the press had captured during his trial, except now he wasn’t wearing glasses. In his late thirties, he was five-foot-eight or so, with the wiry and toned build of a jockey. Sandy brown hair fell in bangs over his forehead, and his face was on the pudgy side. If she’d passed him on the street, she wouldn’t have given him a second look.
During the trial he’d worn black-framed glasses. They’d emphasized the nerdy, geek aura that Lightman exuded even now. Something tugged at the edge of her memory.
“Where are your glasses?” she asked.
He patted a hand on the pocket of his jacket. “I don’t need them for everything.”
“You didn’t make a trip all the way up here just to say thank you,” Skinner prompted.
Lightman’s gaze never wavered from Piper’s. “You’ve saved my life, and I thought I might return the favor.”
“Are you saying her life is in danger?” Skinner’s tone was mild, but Piper could feel the tension in his body.
“Whoever staged that little scene in your apartment doesn’t wish you well, Piper.”
His use of her first name sent a cold sliver of fear down her spine. Piper ignored it. “I know you didn’t stage it.”
“I may be able to help you identify who did.”
“How?” Skinner asked.
“He’s also been stalking me.” Lightman shifted his gaze to the sheriff for the first time. “I recognized him. I’m going to reach into my pocket. You know I’m not armed.”
Skinner nodded. “Go ahead.”
Lightman pulled out his cell phone, a smartphone with a good-size screen, and placed it at the far end of the table. “I happened to have shot this little video clip.”
He carefully pulled out his glasses and put them on. This close, Piper could see a designer logo on the side of the frames.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Edie was polishing the nearby corner and no doubt picking up every word of their conversation. A couple of customers at the counter were also within earshot, not that they gave any indication they were eavesdropping. The jukebox had switched from Shania Twain to Katy Perry.
Reaching out, Lightman pressed something that set the video on the cell phone screen in motion. Piper immediately recognized the street in Georgetown where she routinely took her run. Just as she calculated that he must have shot it from the coffee shop two buildings down from her alley, she saw herself appear and head up the street.
“You were there,” she said, forcing her voice to be steady as she tamped down on another sliver of fear. “You were watching me. Why?”
“You saved my life,” he said. “The Macks family has been harassing me ever since I got out of jail. Have you seen them on TV? And they’re bothering my friend Abe. I figured it was only a matter of time before they got around to you. You were the one who saved me, so I was keeping an eye out for you. I pay my debts.”
“How did you know Ms. MacPherson was responsible for your release?” Duncan asked.
“Abe told me. Watch. This is the important part,” Lightman said.
And it was. She was barely out of the picture frame when a figure appeared on the sidewalk wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt and carrying a shopping bag. He moved quickly, disappearing into the alleyway she’d just jogged out of. The video followed his progress as he hurriedly climbed the steps that led to her apartment. Then it lingered as the man inserted a key and stepped through the door.
“That’s the same person I’ve seen walking up and down my street,” Lightman said. “And he’ll follow me if I let him.”
“Do you know who it is?” Duncan asked.
“No. Sorry, but I didn’t get a clear shot of his face when he came out.” To prove his point, he swiped a finger across the cell phone and they watched the man hurry down the stairs, pause to toss a shopping bag into a Dumpster and then jog up the street in the same direction Piper had taken. Once again, the hood prevented a clear view of his features.
When the screen went blank, Piper met Duncan’s eyes. She could tell he was thinking the same thing she was. The person they’d spotted running on the beach below the caves had also been wearing a hooded sweatshirt. Coincidence?
Piper shifted her gaze to Lightman. “What else can you tell us about him?”
Over the top of his glasses, he met her eyes. “He’s about five feet, ten inches, slender build, weighs about a hundred and thirty. My guess is that it’s Suzanne Macks’s brother, Sid.”
“You must have followed him. Where did he go?” Duncan asked.
“He used the Metro. I don’t.” Lightman shuddered slightly. “Too crowded. Too many germs.”
“How long was he in the apartment?” Duncan asked.
“Five minutes or so.” His eyes remained steady on Piper’s. “After he left, I went up to check and to see what he’d done.”
Lightman pressed something on his cell. More video followed, but Piper would have sworn that it wasn’t the same one that the TV stations had played and replayed. The angle was different, and it remained totally focused