Page 47 of Archer

I collected the empty boxes and packing materials for the trash. “I’m not trying to be an ass or a grouch,” I said, beating him to the chase. “I’m pissed that she has to go through this, and that I couldn’t find this guy when he was right there in the store with us. Instead, I let him follow us halfway home. And I still didn’t get my hands on him. She shouldn’t have to live like this. We’re supposed to help her, and I failed today. And I’m pissed.”

“We are helping her.”

“When you two are done bickering,” Colton cut in, “we’ve got company.”

A sheriff’s cruiser turned the corner at the end of the block, moving slowly toward the cottage.

“That’s Nash,” Knox said. “Right on time.”

The cruiser pulled up beside Colton’s truck, and Nash Sullivan climbed out. Tall and broad-shouldered, he moved like someone who’d seen his share of trouble and knew how to handle it.

I liked him a lot.

Knox met him halfway and they clasped hands. Brothers in all but blood, forged by years of watching each other’s backs before Knox ever enlisted.

“Appreciate you coming out,” Knox said.

Nash’s gaze swept the cottage, taking in the added security measures. “You boys don’t mess around.”

“Can’t afford to.”

Nash turned to me, extending his hand. “How you doing, Archer?”

I shook his hand. “Sheriff.”

Colton shook his hand as well. “Got anything for us?”

“I ran that plate,” Nash said. “It belongs to a rental out of a place in Manteo. The contract was filed under a false name and paid for with cash. The car was returned right before I called. They’re pulling camera footage for me, but it has to come from the company’s tech department at the headquarters.”

“So he planned for this,” Harper said quietly from the porch.

We turned collectively to see her, back on the porch.

Good thing she wasn’t the enemy. From the looks on my team’s faces, I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard her come outside.

She carried a tray with mugs, glasses, a carafe of coffee, and a pitcher of sweet tea to the table outside the front window.

“Seems that way,” Nash said, answering her question. “This isn’t someone acting on impulse. He knew he was spotted and went straight to return the vehicle before we had time to send a deputy over there.”

She sighed. “Well, I made coffee, and there’s plenty of sweet tea. Thanks to Sloane, I have everything to make sandwiches, if you’re hungry.”

Nash raised a palm. “Coffee sounds nice, thank you.”

I led the way up the porch steps.

Harper poured and passed a mug of coffee into Nash’s hands, then mine.

We settled around the table, while Knox continued his work on the cameras and Colton took a seat on the stairs with his laptop. The set up gave us space but kept them close enough to listen while we talked.

Nash pulled out a notebook. “Let’s start with when this began. First contact from your stalker.”

Harper took a breath, then told her story.

“At first I thought maybe it was a mistake or a gift from a fan.” She wrapped her hands around her mug. “Then others came. Always the same song.”

Her voice remained steady even as her knuckles went white around her mug. She was strong. Rightfully scared but fighting through it.

Nash took detailed notes. “And the roses?”