through the lobby?”
“Yes. The door will lock behind you.” The woman extended her hand. “Thank you again—and let me add my voice to the personal support expressed tonight by many of our members.”
“I appreciate that.” She returned the principal’s firm squeeze. “Enjoy your weekend.”
“You too.”
Eve trekked toward the lobby, digging through her purse for the small canister of gel. As she pushed through the door, she pulled it out and paused to peruse the area.
Two cars remained in the parking lot. No one was in sight, and the expanse of asphalt was well lit. This was also a low-crime, upper-middle-class section of town populated by professionals.
If she wasn’t spooked by the incidents of the past week, she wouldn’t even have bothered to dig through her bag for the gel.
Not that she’d ever share that with Cate. After her detective sister’s reminders to always expect the worst—and be prepared to deal with it—she’d be appalled by that admission.
But living in fear was the pits.
Given present circumstances, however, an extra dose of caution was prudent.
Tightening her grip on the container, she crossed the lot toward her Camry, one finger on her autolock button, the other poised on the flip top of the gel.
Ten feet from her car, she unlocked her door. In a handful of seconds she’d be safely inside her vehicle.
Picking up her pace, she gave the lot another sweep.
All clear.
At the door of her car, she glanced into the backseat—another rule Cate had pounded into her sisters’ heads. One she always followed.
No one was hiding inside, waiting to pounce.
Without lingering, she slid behind the wheel . . . locked the doors . . . and exhaled.
She was safe.
All that worry, all those precautions, had been for nothing.
No complaints, though. It was smarter to overprepare for trouble than be caught—
Eve froze.
Stopped breathing.
The folded sheet of paper on her dashboard hadn’t been there when she’d left her car almost three hours ago.
Slowly she reached for it. Lifted the top edge of the thin sheet. Read the typed words.
Final warning. Shut up or die.
A nife can stab more than tires.
Sweet mercy. Would this never end?
Heart pounding, she read the note again.
Frowned.
What was that about her tires? They were fine—at least the ones on the driver’s side that were visible from the auditorium.
But the car did seem to be listing slightly.
Were the other two flat?
Should she get out to check?
No. Not with this note in her hands. Whoever had gotten into her car and perhaps slashed her tires could be hiding nearby. They might not know how to spell knife, but they could very well know how to use one.
A call to 911 would be appropriate, but a police officer she didn’t know would show up . . . and talking to a stranger—however nice he or she was—held zero appeal.
She wanted a familiar face here. Someone whose very presence was reassuring and inspired confidence.
And she knew just the face she wanted to see.
The patrol officer had stayed in his car, as requested—close to Eve’s Camry, to assure her help was at hand if needed—but he hadn’t approached her.
Good man.
Brent parked beside the cruiser, and the officer slid out of the vehicle.
Myers.
Perfect.
After two decades on the job, the man had street smarts and excellent people skills. Taking the initial report was his responsibility, but he’d cooperate to mitigate the stress of this latest incident as much as possible for Eve.
“Lange.” The man held out his hand as he approached.
“Glad you were the responding officer.” Brent returned his firm shake.
“You got a hot one right out of the gate with this case.”
“No kidding. You want to tag team tonight’s incident?”
“Sure. You can take the lead if you want. You know the drill—and what I need for the report.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Shall we?” He indicated Eve’s car.
Brent continued toward the Camry as Eve slid out from behind the wheel. She had on more makeup than usual, but it couldn’t disguise her slight pallor or the taut line of her mouth.
“Thanks for coming.” She addressed the comment to him, giving his jeans and T-shirt a quick perusal before shifting her gaze to include Myers.
Brent indicated the uniformed man. “This is Officer Myers.” He turned back to her. “Have you gotten out of the car since you called me?”
“No.”
“Have you seen anyone?”
“Only the principal. Officer Myers spoke to her as she was leaving.”
“Give us a minute to walk around the car.”
He and Myers circled to the other side.
Considering the slight tilt of the vehicle, he wasn’t surprised to discover