Chapter

Dove shoved a couple pieces of clothes into a backpack and grabbed her bag of lesson plans. Her class couldn’t suffer because of outside problems. That would be entirely unfair. Dove was truly in love with her third-grade class. That’s what she told anyone who asked her about her love life, and most people who knew her believed that was a reasonable answer. Especially since the divorce. Some people threw themselves into destructive habits during a brutal divorce; Dove threw herself into her work, possibly to the point of it becoming a destructive habit itself.

She walked out with her two large bags and walked to the police car. Nate opened the door for her and then, as she was getting in, pushed her head down to keep her from hitting on her head on the doorframe. A police officer move, but not a flirty one. “I am so sorry!” Nate said, and Dove couldn’t help laughing at his mortified face.

“I can generally keep from hitting my head myself, but thank you for the help,” Dove said. Jessica was laughing as well, and it made Dove less nervous about being in the back of a police car. She had wondered if Jessica still thought she was just paranoid, but it seemed to matter less when they all were laughing together. Or rather, Dove and Jessica were laughing together at Nate.

“Where are we going?” Jessica laughed. “I’m assuming you’re not actually arrested, so not back to the station.”

“Teressa Orolv’s house,” Dove answered.

“That sounds like a good idea. Maybe you’ll feel safer there.”

Dove wondered if she was saying you’ll feel safer so you’ll stop being paranoid. She had no guarantee that that was what Jessica was saying, but she did notice she said “you’ll feel safer” and not “you’ll be safer.” Those were two very different things.

Nate began driving, and Dove looked out the window. “I have to admit, I’d never thought I’d see the world from the back of a police car.”

“So we’re completing a life goal for you, huh, Dove?” Jessica asked with a smirk.

“I guess you could say that,” she answered.

“Could I?”

“Lay off her, Jess,” Nate said.

“We’re just having a bit of fun, Nate. Don’t get so protective here,” Jessica said.

“Good luck, Dove. Don’t forget about calling me if you need anything,” he said.

“Thanks, have a safe shift,” she answered, getting out. She walked up to the door and knocked. The house was white, with a purple door and shutters to match. Her brother cut the grass, clearly in a diagonal pattern, and different purple flowers graced the edges of the walkway.

Teressa opened the door. “You’re lucky; I just got home. What are you doing here?” Teressa asked.

“Well, I almost hit Officer O’Bannon with a frying pan.”

“What? Why?”

“I thought he was my stalker.”

“And why were you going to hit your stalker with a frying pan?”

“Why do you think? Hopefully to knock him out,” Dove said. She could tell Teressa was having a similar line of thought to Nate.

“Dove! That’s dangerous! Who knows if he’s armed?”

“It’s dangerous being stalked.”

“Dove, promise me you won’t try to physically fight your stalker unless there’s no other option.”

“But—”

“Promise me,” Teressa interrupted.

Dove knew there was no hope in arguing. “I promise,” she responded.

“Now that doesn’t say why you’re here.”

“Officer O’Bannon thought I might be safer here. We left my car there and some lights on so it looks like I’m home.”

“That’s smart. Maybe he’s not such a bad guy, that Nate.” Dove looked surprised when she called him by his nickname, and Teressa laughed. “I’ve known him since he was in diapers. I’m not calling him Officer O’Bannon.”

“You were in diapers then too,” Dove pointed out.

“So he can call me Teressa. Now come on, let’s make some food for you before I have to go back for dinner rush. I’m assuming you’re staying here.” Dove tried to protest that she could make her own food after Teressa left, but there was no arguing with Teressa, which was good, because Dove loved her cooking.