"Yes, sir."
"Hmm." There was a brief silence, and then Ethan spoke again. "I'll be in touch with you later today, Mason. Thank you for calling me."
"Of course. Thank you."
"Nice talking with you."
"Yes sir...Ethan. It was nice talking with you."
The call ended, and Mason pressed his back against the wall and closed his eyes. What did it mean that he'd forgotten to explain before he told Ethan about the thumb drive? Of course, Ethan knew Mason had left the Army. But the last he'd seen Ethan, at their annual get-together three years ago, he was still a surgeon. He'd stopped going to the annual gatherings, embarrassed about his PTSD and then his leaving his job at Presbyterian Hospital in Maryland.
He dragged a deep breath into his lungs, pushed himself off the wall, and strode out to the bar to finish set-up for the day.
The door to the Sandbar opened and a man and woman hurried in and shut the door. They seemed upset. Mason moved out from behind the bar and made his way over to them. They stood by the door watching it.
"Can I help you with something?"
The man turned to him. He swallowed and nodded. "There's some guy out there walking in between the cars. As we walked toward the building he followed us. My wife..." he glanced at the woman next to him. "was scared."
"What's he wearing?"
Mason turned the handle on the door before the man was finished. He hustled out to the parking area and saw the back of the man's head hurrying away from the Sandbar. He recognized him. The same hair and still wearing the same clothes.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed the Blossom Springs Police Department.
"Blossom Springs PD. How can I help you?"
"This is Mason Thompson. I work at the Sandbar. The man you're looking for who put a note on Carley Page's car is here now."
"I'll send an officer over right away."
"Thank you."
He hung up and followed the man, keeping a distance from him in case he was armed. The man turned and saw him, then took off running. He had a bit of a limp to him, as if he had a bad leg or had hurt himself. Mason took off after him, grateful he jogged a couple of times a week. He gained on the man, then, as if he'd done this before, he ducked into a small patch of tall brush that led up to Sid and Grace's place.
He didn't have Sid's phone number, nor Grace's but he knew Jace did. He stopped in front of the patch of brush and called Jace as he watched for movement.
"Hey, Mason, what's up? Some customers said you were following someone."
"Yeah. The man who put the note on Carley's windshield had scared a couple of customers. I've called the police, and they're on their way, but he dove into some tall brush that leads up to Sid and Grace's house. I don't know if they're home to warn them. I don't have their numbers."
"I'll call. I hear sirens now, stay where you are, and I'll send them up the road."
The call ended, and he craned his neck to see if he could spot something moving. The adrenaline raced through his bloodstream, and he felt the flush of heat envelope his body. Of course, it was plenty hot outside, but this was internal. The sirens grew louder, but he didn't take his eyes off the brush.
A police cruiser stopped on the road and the officer neared him slowly.
"I'm Officer Isak Voss. Can I help you?"
Mason was afraid to turn away from the area in case he missed something. He also didn't want to be rude. Finally, he reached forward and held his hand out to shake the officer's hand. "I'm Mason Thompson. I called. He ran in there."
Officer Voss stared at the area and heaved out a deep sigh. "I hate this."
"I'm aware. I'm also not terribly familiar with this area other than I know Sid and Grace Hoffman live up there. This piece of land..." He pointed to the brushy area. "Meanders along the cliff and separates their place from the water below."
Officer Voss nodded. "Yep. That's correct. Also, much further in there, the terrain gets very steep. So, now we have to decide whether to go up or down."
Mason nodded. "If it helps, I called Jace to tell Sid this guy is around, so up is likely covered."