Page 8 of Detective Daddy Next Door

I look her up and down. She looks motherly, like she's taken care of a lot of children. She looks like she might have one or two of her own. I like her already. I know I'm desperate, but that isn't what is pushing me to like her.

She takes a seat on my wine-colored leather sofa and puts her folder on her lap.

I take a seat and take her credentials when she hands her file over to me.

I go through it. "Impressive. You’ve been doing this for a while now."

"Yes, when my kids grew up and left the house, I thought it'd be nice to go back to working again. I took up the one thing I love doing and know how to do best. Child nurturing."

I have a feeling Ellie will like her. She looks a bit like Dorty.

I nod and hand her back her credentials. “I'll be getting back in touch with you."

"Alright. Thank you," she says as I lead her to the door.

I'll be at home tomorrow, so I know I can run a background check on her. I'll make up my mind then. Being a detective makes me extra careful about letting people into my home and into my family, and I’ll do my own research on her to know if she’s clean and if I can let her near my kid. As much as I like her, that's not enough. This was a problem I had with my ex-wife, Sonya. She thinks I’m too logical and cautious. Too rigid. She always accused me of being unemotional. But years of training and working in the field have taught me that if you move in the world being overtly emotional, you'll get hurt, or worse, get yourself killed.

Sonya and I never saw eye to eye on many issues. I sometimes wonder why we ever got married. She is the polar opposite of me. But you can blame my logical way of thinking. When I found out she was pregnant, I thought the right thing to do was get married. To give the child a home with a family. Boy, was I wrong. Sonya made my life a living hell. I treated her well and gave her everything she ever wanted, but it was never enough. She wanted more and more, and I would go beyond my limits to give her just that.

Eventually, she started looking in other places to feed her hunger, no matter how much I gave her. I knew it’d be best if we separated, and she fought it at first, but gave in eventually. I suspect she never really wanted a child, and in the end we both decided Ellie would be far better off with me. She's been traveling the world since then, dropping in to see us whenever she has the time. We may not be together anymore—to my relief—but though it's been a painful experience for me, I don't regret having a child with her. Would I prefer to co-parent with a woman who’s easy to get along with? Yes. But she gave me Ellie, my biggest blessing in the world.

My phone rings.

"Jon. Any news?"

"Yeah, could you come to the office right now? We're going up to West Hollywood to check out a lead."

"Now?" I ask, thinking about how much time I have before school lets out.

"Yes, now."

"Gosh, I'll be going to pick Ellie up from school in maybe two hours."

"We’ll be back before then. It's only 30 minutes away."

I sigh and pull my jacket off the chair. This is why I need a nanny. I make a mental note to run the background check later in the day. I can't keep living like this.

Chapter 5

Bria

KnowingwhatIknownow, that Myles is my next-door neighbor, I've been trying so hard to avoid him. I still wonder about how he found me. But I find one thing strange. If he's stalking me, why hasn't he shown up at my door? I mean, it's been a week now, and I haven’t seen him creeping around my house or trying to look through my window. I've thought of going to the police. I know how dangerous stalkers can be. I've seen movies about them, and I've read real-life stories about them. But what will I tell the police? The man I had a one-night stand with on a business trip out of town has just moved in next door? They'll just tell me it's not a crime and that people are free to live anywhere they want.

But I know that this isn't a coincidence. This man is stalking me. He told me he didn't want a relationship, then looked up where I live and moved in next door. This is a dangerous person. I adjust my dress and look out of the kitchen window. There's no one in front of his house. This has been my routine for a week now. I always check to make sure he's not lurking around before leaving the house. I go over to the door, open it, and rush to my car. I quickly ignite the engine and drive off as fast as I can. This whole thing has elevated my anxiety levels. I'm stressed and don't know how long I can do this. I'm off to Ava's place for lunch on a beautiful, bright Saturday afternoon, and instead of being happy, I'm scared. Because a psycho just moved in to monitor my every move and I'm afraid to go to the police.

When I get to Ava's place, I take a deep breath before getting out of my car. It's a small apartment on Hellman Street. I take the elevator up to her apartment and ring the bell. A few seconds later, she appears behind the half-open door wearing a short dress. She's salsa dancing to the music playing inside with a big ass spoon in her hand.

I shake my head and laugh. Typical Ava.

She doesn't say anything, but nods for me to join her. I step in and start to imitate her salsa steps. She nods to say I'm doing good, and soon we're salsaing our way into her living room from the kitchen. Ava has a way of lifting you from your pit of worry. This is why I like spending time with her. Her hair is held up in a bun, but a few strands are breaking free as she dances. She's so good at it, while I'm, well…doing the best I can.

"Shake those hips, Bria. Shake ‘em!"

I take her advice and start to shake my hips harder.

"Don't break yourself. Easy," she warns.

We both laugh.

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