Page 80 of Mack

Sam walked to his door and opened it. “Go eat your lunch.”

Mack stood and picked up his bag from the floor. He stopped at the door.

“Sam.”

“Don’t thank me.” Sam was already at his computer. “Go.”

Mack went to his office.

He tried to eat his lunch, but it could have been cardboard. His gut was rarely wrong, and it wasn’t wrong now.

Sam came in ten minutes later, set a piece of paper on the desk, and dropped into the chair across from him without a word.

Mack picked it up. A photo. The man from the diner, the man from the motel parking lot, looking back at him from an official record.

Troy Simmons.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

“Yeah.” Sam leaned back. “Now tell me who he is. Other than what that paper says.”

Mack set it down. “Mallory’s ex-husband.”

Sam picked it up and looked at it for a long moment. “I don’t like the looks of him.”

“He hit her.”

“Then you’re right. He is a son of a bitch.” Sam set the paper down. “Why’s he here?”

“To make her life miserable. He wants her back. I don’t think he cares much what happens to T.J. in the process.”

“Or you.”

“Or me.” Mack folded his arms. “I think he threatened her. Told her to stay away from me. She ended things Sunday.”

Sam was quiet for a moment. Then he sat forward, elbows on his knees, and looked at the floor.

“Tessa went through something like this.”

Mack looked at him. “You never told me that.”

“It wasn’t mine to tell.” Sam was quiet for a moment. “Her ex-husband came here looking for her. Same thing. Wanted her back, wouldn’t take no for an answer.” His jaw tightened. “He had her at the animal hospital. Brody was there with her. Kirkland was going to kill him. I was in the middle of the street. Watched him aim at my deputy through the glass.” He looked up at Mack. “I shot first, and I’d do it again,” Sam said simply.

Mack held his gaze. “I know you would.”

Sam picked up the paper and looked at Troy Simmons one more time. “We’re not going to let it get that far this time.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Sam leaned back. “Keep an eye on Mallory. Follow her home, anywhere she goes if you can manage it. Because I have a feeling Simmons is doing the same thing.” He shook his head. “I don’t like this. A man like that, fresh out of prison, nothing to lose. And if he decides T.J. is in the way—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

Mack felt something cold settle in his chest. “She can’t know I’m watching.”

“No. And it stays that way for now.” Sam stood. “She’s already scared enough. Last thing she needs is to feel like she’s being watched from every direction.”

“What about Simmons? Can we bring him in?”