Page 32 of Unforgotten

“Here. Have something to drink.”

“We’ve sure been taken care of, haven’t we?” he said with a laugh. “Thanks.” After gulping down half the bottle, he kicked his legs out. “So, here we are again.”

“Not again,” she corrected. “I’ve never been here before.”

He grinned, obviously getting her weak attempt at humor. “No offense to the good people of Sparta, but I hope I don’t have to return anytime soon.”

“I feel the same way.” She looked down at her phone again, wracking her brain for something to say. She was drawing a blank. Every topic sounded either too juvenile or too personal.

“What have you been doing?” he asked.

“Nothing. Looking at Instagram.” She held up her phone.

“See anything good?”

“Nah, just same old, same old.” She could feel his eyes glance at her screen, then sharpen.

“Hey, that’s you.”

“Yeah. It’s a recent post.”

Taking the phone from her hand, he said, “It has all of this evening’s appearances.”

Wondering why he didn’t sound happy about that, she nodded. “There’s a volunteer at the chamber of commerce. She made all the graphics for me to post.”

“Do you have to share these?”

“Yes.”

“What about keeping them on your feed? Can we take them off?”

“I guess so, but why would I want to do that?”

“There’s a possibility someone could find you at one of these events.”

She chuckled. “Officer Mulaney, that’s kind of the point. There’s no sense in me parading around the county in a tiara if no one is there to see me.”

He frowned. “I guess you’re right. But it’s still not a good idea. And call me Ryan.”

Frustrated with the way he was acting, she took her phone back, thumbed through a couple of apps, and then showed him the chamber of commerce Facebook page. “Do you see this?” She held her phone up for him to see. “It doesn’t matter if I share the information on my Instagram feed or not. It’s posted for everyone to see.”

“So it’s out of your control.”

“It’s what I signed on to do. What’s the problem?”

“Nothing.”

“Sorry, it doesn’t sound like nothing.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I think someone targeted my vehicle on purpose. No one else’s vehicles have been tampered with.”

“What?” She noticed the plate on his vehicle. “Is it because you have out of state plates?”

“I doubt it. I don’t think anyone around here feels that strongly about the state of Connecticut.”

Her cheeks burned. She had sounded so stupid.

“I don’t know why someone slashed your tires, then. It has to be just bad luck.”

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