Page 80 of Three Steps Behind

“There was that car behind us when we were leaving Jeopardy Falls that had you curious,” Harper said.

He nodded. “Then it pulled off. . . .”

“And the drone appeared,” Grey said.

“No.”

“No?” Grey arched a brow.

“No. We got out of the truck, and it was already here, buzzing overhead. I mean, maybe it was following us home high overhead so we didn’t see it from inside the truck,” Deck said, “but why bother showing us it was here? If they can fly so high so as not to be heard, which I’m guessing they can.” He looked at Christian, who nodded. “Right. So why did Nick bother showing his hand?”

“Intimidation?” Andi suggested.

“Nick’s not very intimidating,” Harper said, “but I totally see what you’re saying, and from his point of view, he probably wants us to know he’s watching.”

“He needs to mind his step,” Deck said. Hovering overhead might be one thing, but hovering outside of Harper’s window . . . Adrenaline seared through him.

“The fact he knows we’re watching him, that we’re on to him . . . that worries me,” Harper said.

“Why?” Andi asked, dipping her tortilla chip in the queso Riley must have set out beside salsa and guacamole.

“Because he might try covering his tracks far better than he has up until now.”

Thirty-Two

DALTON SAW BRISTOL to her apartment door following dinner. He was always a gentleman—opening doors, letting her go first, speaking kindly.

Or, rather, he appeared to be one. But he couldn’t be further from that end of the spectrum. He was evil rather than light and goodness, as she’d first believed. How naïve had she been? How’d she not seen it?

Because he covered it unbelievably well. Pretending to be the honest restaurateur, the wonderful host to all who entered, greeting prominent and celebrity guests who dined at one of his six locations.

“I had a wonderful night,” he said. He caressed her face. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

Home was a foreign concept. Though one she’d been starting to feel in this apartment and with Dalton before prison. Now it was a lie, just like every other “home” she’d had.

“Me too,” she finally said.

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you okay, princess?”

“Of course.” She tried to laugh it off. “Why do you ask?”

“You were awfully quiet during dinner . . . and now.”

“Sorry.” She let her shoulders droop. “I’m still adjusting to being out. But,” she said, moving closer, “I’m so glad to be back with you.”

He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Good night, my angel.”

“Good night, my love.” The words burned on her lips.

Unlocking her door, she swung it open but looked back at him before entering. “See you soon?”

“Tomorrow.” His smile widened. “How about eleven o’clock? Let you get some rest and relaxation time first. I’ll schedule a massage for you, nails, the whole shebang.”

“That sounds lovely.” That she wasn’t lying about.

“And I’m planning a surprise for when I get back from my business trip.”

She loathed surprises. They rarely ended well. And he’d already pulled off the greatest surprise possible. What could possibly come next?