Page 67 of Full House

Waiting for Smith to show, Nate restlessly paced the living room impatiently looking at his phone every five minutes and noting it had been over an hour since he’d called the detective.

He hadn’t said anything to Victoria, but having that package delivered to their doorstep bothered him. A lot. And for the same reason he didn’t like shit delivered to his trailer. Access. How did the person get in?

He lived in a gated community with a guard on duty until eight every night. Gate codes were changed regularly every three months. Security patrolled the neighborhood hourly. And these were all things he’d make clear to Detective Smith. If he ever got his ass over there.

He was so antsy, if he were a smoker, he’d be smoking or a heavy drinker, he’d be tossing back fingerfuls of scotch. He was neither. Growing up in the business, surrounded by easy-to-get drugs and even easier-to-get alcohol, he’d seen the downfall of many teen and twenty-something actors. Not that he’d had anymore common sense than the average know-it-all-punk, but his mom had certainly had, and she’d been constantly on his ass, never once turning her head away, pretending not to see. He owed her a lot for that.

He stopped pacing long enough to check on Victoria. Curled up in an extra-large, overstuffed living-room chair, she still slept. She’d crashed within ten minutes of snuggling into it. Noticing she’d been extra tired lately—not that she’d admit it—it was his new mission to get her to rest more. He watched the silent rise and fall of her chest, before his eyes fell to her hands pressed between her thighs. She looked cold.

Going to the couch, he picked up the crochet, brown and tan throw his mom had made two Christmases ago and laid it over her, tucking it behind her shoulders to hold it in place. He brushed away a lock of bangs that had fallen over her eye and felt such a rush of love, it was almost crippling. He would never let anything hurt her.

His phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen. Thank fuck, Smith had finally arrived. He pushed the button activating the gate then, taking a detour to the kitchen to pick up the box, went to the front door, opened it, and stepped outside. He figured some fresh air would probably do him good, and he didn’t want their conversation to awaken Victoria.

He approached the white Dodge Charger after it came to a stop in his drive. The car door opened, and Smith stepped out. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, his hair slightly mussed, so different from the put-together guy he’d met on two previous occasions, it reminded him the lateness of the hour.

“Detective,” Nate said by way of greeting. “Appreciate you coming so late.”

“Not a problem, Mr. Reed. With this job, I’m used to odd hours.” Smith nodded to the box Nate held. “Is that what arrived tonight?”

“We found it on our doorstep when we came home this evening,” Nate said handing the box over. “It was wrapped in gift wrap. No address or postmark.”

“We, meaning you and Ms. Lee?”

“That’s correct.”

Smith opened the box, his eyes narrowing at its contents. His driveway was well lighted, revealing clearly what the box contained.

“You said you found this on your doorstep?” Smith pulled out a ballpoint pen and started poking around in the tissue.

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate, curious what conclusions Smith would come to.

“Did you open the card?”

“No. I thought it best not to touch anything.”

Smith grunted, nodding.

“If you’d like to take a better look, we can go into the kitchen. Victoria fell asleep in the living room, and I don’t want to disturb her.”

“Let me grab some gloves from the car.”

Nate led Smith into the kitchen where the detective pulled on a pair of latex gloves and removed the envelope from the box, opening it carefully. Inside was a greeting card, the front embossed with a generic “Happy Birthday” and the inside blank save for four words written in what was becoming very familiar handwriting. You don’t deserve him.

Smith replaced the card, tucking it back in the box before speaking. “Any idea who this mystery fan is? A disgruntled ex?”

“No and no. If I did know, I would’ve said something. Nothing is more important to me than Victoria’s safety.” When Smith didn’t say anything, Nate continued. “My address isn’t a secret, but the average person wouldn’t know it.”

“The average person, no, but for someone this obsessed, it wouldn’t be too difficult to find out.”

“What about the security here? The person delivered the package to my doorstep.”

Smith shrugged. “Not hard. They could have hidden, waiting by the gates until someone came home and opened them, and then snuck in behind them. Could’ve exited the same way.”

Nate nodded. As disturbing as that sounded, he supposed it was plausible.

“I’ll check with management tomorrow and see if there are any cameras that could’ve caught something. I’ll let you know if we get a hit.”

Nate hadn’t even thought about the possibility of video surveillance. Guess that’s why he wasn’t a police detective. Nate nodded. “I want to know as soon as you find anything out.”

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