Page 65 of Love Me
“I think we need a few more pillows and another blanket,” I said.
“I think so, too,” she agreed as she assessed our work so far.
“Be right back,” I shot over my shoulder as I headed down the hall.
Flicking on the light in the spare bedroom, I grabbed two of the sham pillows and the throw blanket hanging off the end of the bed. The sound of whistling made me pause before leaving the room. I glanced at the window, realizing the sound was coming from there. Walking over to it, I saw right away that water was pooling on the windowsill.
I tossed the pillows and blankets back on the bed and ran out of the room to get a towel from the linen closet. When I came back, I wiped up the water. Standing there, the whistling was louder. At first, I thought it was due to the leak, but after further inspection I found the window unlocked and not closed all the way.
I pushed it closed and slid the lock into place. Instantly, the whistling stopped.
Fear bloomed in my chest.
Why is it open?
Why isn’t it locked?
“Shi, your phone is ringing,” Isabelle yelled from the living room.
Did Logan open it?I wondered.
Did the sheriff when he broke in?
When is the last time I checked this window?
“Shi?” Isabelle said, her voice sounding closer, and I turned around just in time for her to come into the room. She spotted me.
“Sorry, my window was open, and water leaked all over the sill. I was cleaning it up,” I said, doing my best to shove down my fear.
“Do you need help cleaning it up?” she asked, but before I could respond, my phone started ringing again. “This is the second time this unknown number is calling you.”
“Just ignore it. I think it’s Cassy or Amber trying to mess with me. They’ve been doing it for days.”
Isabelle glared down at the phone as it rang. She accepted the call and put the phone to her ear before I could protest. “Don’t you miserable cunts have something better to do?”
I stood there wide-eyed and made a note to never piss off Isabelle.
Isabelle suddenly gasped. “I’m so sorry, sir. I thought you were someone else.” She paused as she listened to whoever was on the line. “No, you have the wrong number. Uh-huh. No worries. I’m sorry again about that. You, too. Bye.” She hung up the phone, grimacing. “I suppose that was karma’s way of reminding me not to be a bitch.”
“Who was it?” I asked, reaching out for my phone.
She handed it to me. “Some guy looking for an Annabell Weston.”
I was surprised at the relief I felt. I had done my best to pretend that it hadn’t bothered me this whole time, but as each day had passed and the phone calls had continued, it had become easier for fear to seep in and doubt to fester. Like a nagging thought in the back of my head, I’d begun to humor the possibility that it might have been Mr. X. That he might have found me. I knew as long as he was out there searching for me, there would always be a chance he could find me. But the odds of that happening were slim. I needed to take comfort in that, or I’d go insane.
My thoughts went back to the window. It was unlikely Mr. X was the culprit. But something in my gut would not settle. Maybe the sheriff had planned to sneak in through that window while I was sleeping and hang me from a tree out back? Last night would have been the perfect opportunity. I had been alone and so tired. But why go through the window? And what about my alarm? I still didn’t know how he’d gotten past it the last time and Logan hadn’t told me what the alarm company had said.
There was a good chance I could be freaking about the window for no reason. Logan could have left it open by accident. It hadn’t been open enough to trigger the alarm, so there was a chance he’d thought he had closed it but forgotten to lock it?
It was locked now. The best thing I could do was go through the house and make sure everything was locked. I also needed to set my alarm. I had disarmed it when Isabelle had texted that she was on her way.
“Shi, you okay?” Isabelle asked as she came closer. “You look pale.”
“I’m fine. Why don’t we finish setting up?” I deflected.
Isabelle pointed at the pillows and blanket I’d tossed back on the bed. “Are these what we need?”
I nodded. Isabelle grabbed the pillows while I grabbed the throw, and we headed back to the living room.
