Page 40 of Show Me

I hold out the folded note.

Emily moves Grace to her other hip and takes it, her eyes scanning the lines. Jake steps closer, reading over her shoulder, his expression tightening with every word.

“Where did you get this?” Jake’s voice is clipped, instantly morphing into the official tone he uses when he’s working.

“On my windshield,” I say. “After work.”

Jake’s jaw flexes. “Today?”

“Yes.”

He holds out his hand. “Let me see.”

I pass him the paper. He studies the handwriting as it might confess under pressure. It’s nice having a friend with a boyfriend who's a police officer.

“It’s different handwriting from the chocolates.” I wrinkle my nose. “And someone left flowers for me today. They were sitting on the front desk when I got to work.”

His brow furrows deeper with each reveal. “Were the flowers unusual?”

“No. Roses and lilies. But also yes, because my name was on the envelope with no name on the card.” I let out a breath that feels like it’s been sitting in my lungs for two days. “Same block lettering as the chocolate package.”

Emily’s eyes flash as she turns from fastening Grace into her swing. “It’s gotta be Brent.” She grabs Jake’s bicep. “You know the sleeveless creep at the gym.”

“Yeah.” Jake nods. “I know.”

Emily lets go of Jake, pacing the floor. Grace babbles happily in her oblivious state. I wish I was her.

“If it’s not Brent, then who would it be?” Emily asks to no one in particular.

Jake’s voice is calm in that way that says he’s not calm. “Did you report any of it?”

“No. I didn’t even consider it. That would feel like overreacting to something small.”

“It’s not.” His response is immediate, making the knot in my stomach constrict. If he thinks I’m not overreacting, it’s hard to pretend it’s nothing. Jake isn’t the type to placate.

Emily shakes her head and stops in place. “Three anonymous notes in a few days is a big deal.”

I swallow over the growing lump in my throat. “Greg’s been acting strangely too.”

Jake's attention sharpens. “How so?”

“Nothing major,” I say. “Just comments. Today he said the place runs smoother when I’m there, like I owe him something for that—or like he expected me to stay late without pay. And he keeps making a big deal whenever I’m away from the desk.”

Emily’s lips press into a thin line as the first drops of rain hit the windowpanes. “You don’t owe him anything.”

Jake folds the note, as it might break. “Anyone else have access to your address?”

“I don’t know. It’s a small town. Anyone could know where I live.”

Silence takes root in the room, heavy but not empty. Grace squeals and kicks her pink sock covered feet, saving us from drowning in it.

Emily looks at me. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I’m not.” I motion around the living room. “I’m here.”

“You shouldn’t be alone at your house.” The exasperation is evident in her voice as she narrows her eyes at me.

Jake nods. “She’s right.”