Apple of My Eye (Tiger's Eye Mystery #7) - Alyssa Day Page 0,10

holding something in one gloved hand. "I did get something, but I'm not sure if it's related. There's a spot in the trees just there," he said, pointing out my window. "Straight sight line to your kitchen window. Grass was trampled, and there were four of these candy wrappers scattered around, as if somebody'd stayed there for a while. Maybe watching your house."

Jack leaned forward and inhaled, then sneezed. "Peppermint. I hate that smell."

"Christmas must be difficult for you," Susan drawled, opening another plastic evidence bag.

Andy dropped the wrappers in the bag, and she sealed and labeled it.

"I don't know what the chance is of getting fingerprints from crumpled cellophane, but it's worth a shot," she said. "Tess. Is there anyone—anyone—you can think of who has shown too much interest in you lately? Who's felt off to you in any way?"

Jack wrapped his hand around mine, and I squeezed, appreciating the comfort.

"Sometimes it's a subconscious thing," he said. "You don't realize on the surface that someone bothers you, but you may feel your skin crawl, or a slight sigh of relief when he leaves the room."

Andy nodded. "How about at the shop? Does anyone feel like they didn’t get the best deal?"

I shrugged, feeling helpless. "No. Nobody. No weird people, no weird feelings. And you know me, Andy. It's not like I’m wheeling and dealing big-ticket items. Today I took in three TVs, a laptop, and a taxidermied ferret. I can't see anybody holding a 'chop off a finger and give it to Tess' kind of grudge over anything I've done."

"Eleanor maybe," Susan said, grinning.

My only employee was known far and wide for being a tough negotiator, but she was always fair. A pawnshop who cheated or lowballed its customers was a pawnshop that went out of business, fast. Especially in a small town like Dead End, where much of my business consisted of repeat customers.

"No, not Eleanor, either. But even if it had been, wouldn't they have given the box to her?"

Jack made a low growling noise in his throat, and Lou's ears perked up, but she quit hissing.

"It's the 'apple of my eye' bit that concerns me the most," he said. "Not that I don't feel bad for the person who probably died. But Tess is still alive, and I plan to keep her that way."

"We're on the same page there," I muttered.

He tightened his hand around mine. "My point is that this is obsessive, stalker-sounding language. There's nothing reasonable or sane about this kind of obsession, if that's what this is. Usually it starts small and then escalates, but if the baseline here is an amputated finger in a box, what is escalation going to look like?"

My head suddenly felt light, as if it were going to float off my body. "I don't like the sound of that."

"You know a lot about stalkers for an ex-rebel soldier and commander," Susan said, giving Jack a narrow-eyed look. "Anything you want to share?"

Jack stared calmly back at her. "Nope. Not my story to tell."

I pulled my hand out of his, suddenly tired of all the secrecy and ready to focus on something that wasn't an amputated finger showing up on my doorstep. "Like Cleveland?"

"Exactly like that."

Andy blew out a sigh. "Okay. I'll brush for prints, on the slight chance that your gift guy may have touched your back door."

Susan nodded. "You do that and let me know. I need to get going. Tess, I'll stop by the shop tomorrow to talk to you some more. Will Eleanor be there?"

"I'm closed on Sundays," I reminded her. "How about Monday? Or I can talk to you after church."

"I have lunch at my grandmother's house. She's been telling us that she's having outings with my grandfather, who has been dead for a while, and we're getting worried. The family is doing potluck lunch there so we can talk about our options," she said, frowning.

Susan wasn't just the sheriff, she was my friend, so I walked over and gave her a quick hug. "Call me if you need anything. We can talk about this later in the day tomorrow or Monday morning at the shop. Eleanor is scheduled to work."

My phone rang as I walked her to the door, and I picked it up off the coffee table. "Oh, no. It's Aunt Ruby. Did you tell her about this?"

Susan winced. "No, and I don't have time to talk to her now. I love Ruby when she's being your aunt, but when she's being