Page 65 of Guarded from Sabotage

Looking up from my laptop, I meet his gaze. “Why don’t you meet with them first thing in the morning? That might help you get a read on whether they’re interested in improving. If they seem receptive to retraining, we could recommend probation. If not, then it’s time for them to move on.”

Erik lifts his chin. “Sounds good.”

We met with Beau as soon as we got to Austin, and now we’re back at the hotel, preparing for an early start tomorrow. Erik’s going through the Winningham employee records, I’m working up a plan for the interior of the house, and Rhiannon is checking satellite images of the property to see where we can shore up security. This evening, we’ll come up with a comprehensive plan and tomorrow, we’ll present it to Beau for approval. Then we’llspend the next two days putting everything he approves into action.

But as I’m studying the blueprints of the Winningham estate, making notes for additional security camera locations—blind spot in the hallway, another in the pantry—Sarah slips into my mind again.

This time, it’s not a pleasant thought. It’s the memory of Sarah after the car crash, dazed, her lips red with blood, broken glass in her hair, and the crushing fear I felt not knowing if she was okay.

Maybe it would be easier to leave her if the memories weren’t so fresh. Vivid. If I didn’t remember at least several times a day just how close I came to losing her.

But she’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. Petrovic is in jail. I double checked just before we left Blade and Arrow. Well aware I was being ridiculous but not caring, I called Quint just to make sure. And once he verified that Petrovic was in custody, still not eligible for bail, and had no access to computers, he added kindly, “I understand, Dante. If it were my Corrie, I’d be doing the same thing.”

So it’s fine. Sarah’s at her interview, and then she’s headed back home. In an hour or so, she’ll be back at Blade and Arrow, where I know she’s completely safe. And tonight, after my work is done, I’ll FaceTime with her. Maybe even try some phone sex like we talked about last night.

For added reassurance, I skim her messages one more time, smiling to myself as I read them.

Hey, just got to the coffee shop. It looks really cute! Everything’s good. Love you!

Lunch with Raya was great. She can’t wait to meet you. I’m heading over to the interview. I love you.

Just got to the interview with some time to spare. Everything’s good. I’ll text you as soon as I finish. Love you.

The last of her messages was sent thirty minutes ago, which means she’s probably right in the middle of her interview. I’m sure she’s doing great, even though she was nervous about it.

“It’s not the actual interview,” Sarah confessed last night over dinner. “It’s going someplace new, not knowing my surroundings… I wish I didn’t feel that way, but I do.”

“It’s okay,” I reassured her. “If you go, and you don’t feel comfortable, it’s alright. Remember, Matt said there are lots of remote jobs available. So you could work from here, if you want.”

“I know. But this interview… I’d really like to work with kids again. In person, where I can really get to know them.”

Ever since she saw the posting last week, she’s been excited about it, outlining all the reasons it would be a good fit. “It’s in Seguin, so I’ll have a shorter commute, plus I could work with teenagers, which I love. And it’s a non-profit, a new one with a mission statement I really connect with. Working at a place like this, I think I could really make a difference.”

So, even though a small, selfish part of me wants Sarah to take the remote option, I’ll support whatever she chooses if it makes her happy.

Assuming all the people who work there check out, that is. I’m not taking any chances with Sarah’s coworkers again. And I don’t think Sarah will disagree.

If she gets the job, though, I’ll have to take her out to celebrate. Maybe we could get a hotel room in San Antonio, make reservations at one of the fancy restaurants there, even go to a show after. And we could stop at that bookstore she mentioned, the one with a big cookbook section filled with signed copies from famous chefs. I bet Sarah would love that.

“Are you thinking about Sarah again?” Rhiannon teases, grinning at me from her seat by the window. “I can’t imagine you’re that happy about blueprints.”

“I could be,” I retort. After a beat, I concede, “Fine. Yes. A little. But I’m not going to slack on the job.”

Rhiannon smiles. “It’s fine, D. I’m just teasing. Of course you’re thinking about her. It’s your first time apart after being together for weeks. And if I know you, which I do—” She gives me a knowing look. “You’re probably coming up with things to worry about.”

“Not exactly.”

Erik snorts quietly.

“Fine.” I flick my pen at him. “I know she’s okay, but it’s hard not to worry. Especially because it’s her first time going into town by herself. It’s not that I think she can’t handle it. But after everything she’s been through… it hasn’t been that long. What if she gets scared? And I’m not there to help?”

Expression sobering, Erik nods thoughtfully. Then he says, “You could check her tracker. Just to see where she is. It might make you feel better.”

My hand twitches towards the little icon on my desktop, the one opens our tracking software. But I hesitate. “I could. But I don’t want to use it like that. Not to track Sarah for no reason. That feels too intrusive. Like I don’t trust her.”

“Yes…” Rhiannon drags out the word. “In normal circumstances, I’d agree. But it’s not like you’re going to do it all the time. This is different. She just went through a traumatic experience. Multiple traumas, really. So it’s not weird to want to make sure she’s okay.”

Erik says, “I’ve seen some people with severe PTSD take off when they’re in a stressful situation. The adrenaline triggers the fight-or-flight instinct, and they just run.” He grimaces, adding, “Not that I’m saying Sarah would run. It’s just…”

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