Page 9 of Cornered

She stopped.

The footsteps behind her continued for a moment, then stopped too. Was she being paranoid or was it just someone else leaving early and the footsteps stopped because they’d arrived at their vehicle?

She scanned the area, her eyes sweeping right, then left. Nothing. Or was someone actually following her? She shivered. Brenda’s death had spooked her, making her more jumpy than usual.

Steph picked up the pace, wishing she’d found a spot closer to the door, but she’d been running late this morning and the only spot available had been all the way at the end of the row.

Naturally.

Once again, she swore she heard footsteps and the rustle of pant legs rubbing together. Just a swish of a sound, but it was there. She clicked her remote to unlock her doors. Finally, she slid behind the wheel and slammed and locked the door.

She pressed the Start button and her engine purred to life. Steph aimed her vehicle toward the exit, faster than sheshould, but looking for anyone who might have been following her. And there. A man dressed in jeans, a blue short-sleeved shirt, and a baseball cap stood next to an older model SUV, head averted. She was tempted to stop and ask him if he was following her, but decided that might not be the smartest thing to do and kept going.

All the way home, she watched her rearview mirror, but finally pulled into her garage without incident. Only when the door was lowered behind her vehicle did she get out and scurry into her home. With the doors and windows checked and double checked, she stopped a moment to look at her phone.

Tate was on his way.

TATEPULLED INTOStephanie’s drive and cut the engine. She had a smaller home in one of the more affluent neighborhoods. It was a Victorian cottage–style house that somehow seemed to suit her. He propelled himself out of the vehicle and onto her front porch. It was nearing dinnertime, so he’d grabbed some Chinese from his favorite place after consulting with James about what his sister liked.

He rang the doorbell.

Seconds later, footsteps sounded and the door swung open. Steph stood there with a forced smile and pale face.

He frowned. “Are you all right?”

“I look that bad?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. You just look ... scared.”

She waved a hand. “I just got home. I ... uh ... had a weird experience in the parking garage at work and it shook me.”

He held up the food. “Want to tell me about it over sweet-and-sour chicken?”

Her eyes widened. “My favorite. How’d you know?”

“I called James and asked him.”

She blinked. “Oh. Well, thank you. The kitchen is this way.”

Tate followed her into the spacious area just off the den and put the food on the counter. “Now, tell me what happened.”

She filled him in and he mulled it over. “And no one else was there?”

“No, no one other than the one man I saw as I was leaving. I mean, it was four o’clock in the afternoon. Most people don’t leave until five or five thirty. Sometimes even later.” She shuddered. “I’ve never been afraid in that garage. Not even at night. There are cameras and security patrolling—most of the time anyway. And before you ask, I have no idea where security was earlier. Probably on another floor.” She sighed. “The point is, yes, it was weird, but the more I think about it, I’m pretty sure I overreacted. I’m actually a little embarrassed.” She pushed a bag toward him. “Let’s eat and forget about that while I show you what I found.”

“Okay, sure.” And while she could have overreacted, as she said, Tate wasn’t sure he was comfortable just brushing off the incident. While she busied herself readying her food, he tapped a request for the security footage of the garage. Just out of curiosity.

He then grabbed one of the plates she offered, dumped his food on it, and carried it to the table. “You mind if I say grace?”

She smiled. “I’d love it.”

He said a short prayer of thanks for the food and for guidance to find Brenda’s killer, then looked up to find her watching him. Heat started to crawl into his neck and he cleared his throat. “What?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare and make you feel uncomfortable. I was just thinking that you’re a nice guy, aren’t you?”

“I try to be.”

She took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “So, what got you into police work?”

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