Page 32 of Hiding in Montana

Oh, this wasn’t good. “Matthew is here at Grace Star Ranch.”

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Clint was following Polly home in his truck. The moment he saw her face go white with what could only be gut-wrenching fear, there was no dissuading him. She said her ex-husband was in town based on the description; the mention of the scar seemed to clinch the deal for her.

He’d guess that if the ex was in town, trouble wasn’t far behind. There was no way Clint would let her go home alone. Not that she couldn’t handle herself, but she didn’t need to be alone. But how much danger would she be in from the ex? That was the question that plagued him now.

Her left blinker came on as she turned into her driveway. Everything looked quiet, but that could be deceiving. He quickly parked the truck and got out, following her up the front steps. Her back was ramrod straight and her face drawn. They didn’t speak while she unlocked the door and closed and secured the lock once they were inside.

Polly flicked on a small lamp on the table just inside the door and threw her bag and sweatshirt in the upholstered side chair. “I want to check the video feed for the last twenty-four hours. I’ve been looking at the feed from time to time during the day, but if Matthew was at the ranch, then he knows where I live and has probably been hanging here after dark.” She strode to the kitchen, grabbing her laptop from the side table as she went.

His gut clenched as he followed her. “Makes sense.”

She looked at him and ran a finger over his tense jaw. “Relax. I’ve been down this path before and Matthew has never wanted to hurt me. He had plenty of opportunity when we lived under the same roof.”

“It’s not him I’m worried about, but why is he here now and who might have followed him?”

“Questions I can’t answer, but let’s look at the video and I can think.”

He liked how she included him in looking at the clips and he had a few ideas of what to do next, but some of that response depended on what they saw.

He pulled out a wooden chair for Polly and it grated over the old linoleum floor. She smiled her thanks, and he took the chair next to hers, pulling it close so he had a good view of the screen and, as an added benefit, they were thigh to thigh.

Tapping the keys, she was adjusting the timestamp on the bottom of the screen to late yesterday afternoon, after they finished the installation. “Here we go.”

He leaned closer to the screen, surprised at how clear the footage was. “Listen. This even picks up birds chirping in the trees.”

“I’m more interested in people.” She stared at the screen, her brow furrowed. “I’m going to fast forward to after you left.”

They watched as the camera picked up his taillights as he turned right out of her drive. She moved the slider bar at the bottom of the screen to speed up, and then they watched as a sedan slowed and almost came to a stop in front of her driveway.

“Do you recognize that car?”

She shook her head. “Look, it’s leaving.” Her finger hovered over the keyboard as if she was going to speed it up again when she pulled away. “Look, the same car is back.”

The same car was creeping past once again, and his heart ticked up in his chest. Someone was checking out her house. He glanced at the door as if expecting someone to be outside right now, but that was crazy. If he was a betting man, he’d say his truck alone was a powerful deterrent.

The car moved out of sight again, and Polly exhaled a ragged breath. The tension was thick in the air. He placed his hand over hers and she squeezed.

“Clint.” The tremor in her voice matched the one in his gut. Someone was sticking to the shadows but stealthily making their way to the front porch. The man was dressed in a dark hoodie so the camera couldn’t catch his face.

“Do you think that’s your ex?”

Tipping her head to one side, she said, “It’s hard to tell. This person is tall, but without seeing his face or body, I just don’t know for sure.”

The man on the video stopped and turned his head to a loud bang from the street. A glimpse of his face appeared.

Her voice was low and flat. “That’s not Matthew.” She hit the pause button.

“Are you sure?”

She pointed to the screen and then slid the bar of the video back and replayed it again. “Matthew’s Italian and is always tanned. His skin soaks up the rays like the desert after it rains. That person is pale.”

Getting up, Clint paced the small kitchen. This was bad if there were two people skulking around Polly’s place. “Let me sleep on the couch tonight. I don’t want you to be here alone until we can talk to the sheriff.”

She nodded but didn’t speak. Her face was devoid of all expression. Clint dropped to the chair.

“Darlin’, talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

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