As soon as the officer was gone, she went to her bedroom and threw on jeans and a red pullover sweater. She ran her hands through her hair and fingered it into place. After shoving her phone in her pocket, she stuck her gun in the back of her waistband and pulled her sweater down over it. She stepped into her flats and headed out the door to see her neighbor.
Knocking briskly on the front door, Emily could hear Mr. Cooke’s German Shepherd bark ferociously in response. She listened to the elderly man holler at the dog to be quiet right before he opened the door.
“Hello, Emily,” the short and stocky old man said with a grin. His eyes twinkled behind his glasses and the sunlight reflected off his shiny bald head. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. The police stopped by my place and told me you’d reported a peeping Tom at my house.”
“I never gave them my name. How’d they know it was me?”
“They didn’t. I figured it out. Do you mind if we talk for a minute?”
“Oh, sure, sure.” He shuffled a couple of steps back and opened the door wide. “Come on in.”
The dog growled and Emily hesitated to go inside.
“Rocky!” the man yelled.
The dog quieted and Emily stepped in.
“Here, let me move those newspapers. Have a seat.” He gestured toward the sofa and picked up the papers before he dropped down onto his leather recliner.
“I appreciate your looking out for me, Mr. Cooke. Could you tell me what happened exactly?”
“Well, I was coming back from taking Rocky here for a walk. I saw the man looking into a window on the side of your house and I hollered at him, ‘Hey, what are you doing there?’ The man took off, jumped in his car, and drove off.”
“What kind of car was it?”
“It was black. One of those foreign jobs.”
“Could you describe him?”
“Older white guy, or maybe Latino, full head of gray hair. Not as old as me, though.”
“Is there any way he would know you lived next door?”
“What do you mean?”
“I just want to make sure you’re safe, in case he’s the type to pay someone back for being a witness to him trying to break in.”
“You think he’d have the gall to show his face around here again? Old Rocky would tear his leg off.” The dog sat watch next to the old man, as if confirming.
She had to put a hand over her lips to stifle a giggle and cleared her throat. “Maybe, if he thought you could identify him—”
“No, no, I don’t think so.” The old man shook his head. “I was standing on the sidewalk with Rocky when he drove off. I can’t see how he’d know where I lived.”
“That’s a relief.”
“You really think I’m in danger?”
“I don’t want to scare you, Mr. Cooke. I simply want you to be safe.”
“I have Rocky here.” He patted the dog’s head. “I think I’m safe enough.”
“Did you happen to get his license plate number?” She could only hope.
“I’d like to tell you I did, but my eyesight ain’t what it used to be, even with these dang spectacles.” He pulled off his large wire-rimmed glasses and held them out to her briefly, then stuck them back on his face. “But I can tell you the color of the plate.”
“You mean it wasn’t local?”
“Naw, it was different.” His gaze lifted to the right as he apparently worked to remember. “It was white, no light blue maybe. I recall the letters were dark blue and there was a red bird in the left corner. I think there might have been flowers around it.”
“Around the license plate?”
“No, around the bird.”
Virginia! Emily had lived in Virginia before she married Evan and moved west, and she immediately recognized the description. She wondered if it had been someone from DC, someone from the CIA or the FBI.
“That’s quite a memory you’ve got, Mr. Cooke.” She didn’t want to give away anything she was thinking, so she decided she’d better head back home. Rising to her feet, she thanked him for his time. “I should be going. If you ever see that man or the car again, please let me know. I’d sure like to know who it was.”
“Sounds like you don’t think it was just a random burglar.”
“Oh, it probably was.” Emily shrugged as casually as she could, hoping to conceal her suspicions. “Thanks again,” she said, backing toward the door.