Page 28 of Love Me Fierce

Using my phone’s web browser, I find five hotels within a ten-mile radius. One is the historic inn downtown, one is a motel in Pinedale, another is something called Log Cabin Suites, and two are bed and breakfasts. There’s also the VRBO route, but that would get spendy quickly.

I call the Bitterroot Inn first. But thanks to the annual quilt show this week and some sort of boating regatta on Bear Lake, they only have one room left, the deluxe suite for four hundred dollars a night.

Oof. No.

Next I try the Pinedale Chateau. They have vacancies but Pinedale doesn’t exactly give off a warm vibe. Mateo would love the train car restaurant though. The Log Cabin place has vacancies but they’re individual cabins and the cheapest one is three hundred bucks.

I’m just saying goodbye when Everett comes to the edge of the kitchen, his gloved hands at his sides.

“Don’t go to Pinedale,” he says.

My hackles spring to life at his bossy tone. “Why not?”

He arches an eyebrow. “Because Sepp gave you a better option. Ruby Gulch.”

“I haven’t decided yet,” I snap. Though reality is quickly sinking in. Accepting Sepp’s offer is the wise choice.

His fierce gaze lingers, but I turn away so I can stuff my yarn and needles back into my basket. At least he’s letting me take my knitting.

“I think you guys would feel comfortable there,” he says to my back.

This makes me think of my tampons and pads strewn all over the bathroom floor and the applesauce turd in the kitchen.

I shut my eyes to keep from screaming.

When I’m loading the suitcase and my knitting basket in the back of the Kia, Everett comes outside, peeling off his gloves.

“I need a few things from you before you go. The rest we can cover later,” he says, pulling a small notebook and a pen from his breast pocket. Just like during the blizzard.

I’m not feeling any more helpful today, but I lean my back against the side of my car. The metal feels solid and almost too hot from the sun, but I don’t have the energy to move.

Everett uses the top railing of my stairs as a writing surface—his left hand curling around the pen. His gun is holstered on his left hip. My sister’s left-handed, too. I wonder if Everett struggled with things like right-handed scissors and right-handed desks in school like she did.

I wipe down my face. Why am I thinking about this right now?

“Your neighbor, Mr. Graham, said he saw your door ajar about three o’clock when he was walking his dog. I got here around three fifteen. From what I’ve gathered from your other neighbors, nobody saw a strange car enter or leave the park, or one parked at your place. It’s likely he walked in from the back.”

I cross my arms. “In broad daylight?”

“It’s not uncommon.”

I guess the alternative is a break in while we’re home, asleep. A shudder walks down my spine. Kent wanted me to learn to shoot. It wasn’t so much the skill that I couldn’t get behind. It’s what guns do to people. I’m a nurse. I’ve seen it. How could I possibly shootanother person? Unless it was to protect Matty, I’m not sure I could pull the trigger. At the very least, the hesitation would be enough for someone to overpower me.

Everett cocks his head. “Have you noticed anything suspicious recently? Like cars in here that don’t belong?”

I glance past my unit to the sparse forest edging the back of the park. Is that where the thief came from “Some of my neighbors have visitors. I don’t really pay that much attention to the cars.”

Everett’s gaze flicks his notebook to meet mine. “Have you noticed anyone hanging around, maybe even following you?”

Wait a sec. “What are you getting at?”

Everett’s lips press together, then he rubs down his chin. “Some burglaries are random. Some aren’t.”

I focus on a tuft of grass growing through the cracks in the pavement. Who would pick me as some kind of target? It makes no sense. I drive a crappy car. I live in a trailer the size of a bus. I don’t take fancy vacations. My only luxuries are the spendy brand of English Breakfast tea I’m addicted to and a handful of dresses I bought at full price.

“Vivian?”

I shake my head to banish my runaway thoughts. “No. I haven’t noticed anyone.”

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