“Hey, Grace. Grace!”

I yanked my head up, realizing I’d spent at least ten seconds staring at the cage I’d just locked in a daze. Britta was standing at the end of the aisle, her hands on her hips.

“Geez,” she said. “I called you, like, ten times and you didn’t even move.”

“Sorry,” I said quickly, shoving my hair back behind my ears. The truth was I’d been in kind of a daze through all of today’s shift. In every quiet moment, my mind slipped back to that video. To the way the car had jolted away from Jeremy’s shoving hand as if he’d moved it with strength of will alone.

He hadn’t texted me. Hadn’t called me. I didn’t know if he’d keep his promise. Part of me wanted to see him right now and demand all the answers, and part of me was terrified of what those answers might be. I’d never even believed anything like this might be possible.

He hadn’t wanted me to know. The way he’d hustled me out of the apartment had made that crystal clear. If I let it go, I’d probably never see him again. I could pretend nothing like this had ever happened.

But was that really what I wanted?

When I remembered the way he’d grinned at me as we joked around, or the feel of his lips on mine, I was pretty sure the answer was no.

Britta was still watching me. “What did you want?” I asked, leaving the cage and ambling toward her. My shift was almost over anyway. Wonderful. Then I could go home and stew on my own like I had all last night. I could probably blame some of my haziness on lack of sleep.

Or I could march right back to Jeremy’s apartment, hammer on his door, and demand an explanation. I had to admit that idea was sounding more appealing by the minute. Maybe fatigue was good for my courage. Or lack of common sense.

Hey, maybe those were the same thing.

“I just wanted to know where you put the adoption forms for the collie mix that went out this morning,” Britta said, yanking me out of my thoughts again.

“Oh, right. I think I left them in the visiting room. Just a sec—I’ll go get them.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “That’s okay. I’ll get them. The way you are today, you’ll probably forget why you went in there before you even find them.”

She stalked off. Wow. I knew I was being spacey, but that comment was uncalled for, wasn’t it?

I meandered to the front room and checked my watch. Oh, my shift wasn’t just almost over—I’d actually stayed five minutes later than I needed to.

I waved to Ceren at the front desk and headed out. Clouds were clotting the sky, and the wind on my face was warm but thick with humidity. I picked up my pace. Better to get out of here before the downpour started.

I was halfway across the parking lot when a totally unfamiliar voice called out my name. “Miss Trevell?”

My steps faltered. I stopped and turned.

A middle-aged man with gray sprinkled through his reddish blond hair was standing outside a black sedan at the far end of the parking lot. When I looked over, he hurried toward me, the thin beige trench coat he was wearing flapping behind him. He smiled at me, but something about the look in his watery blue eyes made me tense up.

“You’re Grace Trevell?” he said, sounding more certain now.

“I am,” I said, resisting the urge to back away from him. “Why did you want to know?”

The corner of his mouth quirked higher. “Just a small matter I’m investigating. Nothing that should affect you beyond this conversation. I’m Malcolm Finch, a private investigator of sorts.”

He held out his phone and tapped the touchscreen. The video I’d already watched way too many times in the last twenty-four hours started playing. My body stiffened, and not just because of the tire screech.

“Am I correct that the woman in this video is you?” Malcolm asked. His voice was too calm and polite for asking about someone who’d nearly been road kill.

I hugged myself. “It is. I still don’t know why you want to know.”

“This man here,” he said, motioning to Jeremy’s back. “The one who pulled you out of the way of that truck. Did you talk to him very much afterward? Get his name, perhaps?”

My throat tightened. I didn’t know what was going on with Jeremy or exactly how I felt about it, but every bit of my being was blaring that this guy wasn’t just looking to have a friendly chat. This guy was the reason Jeremy had been worried about me leaving out the front door last night. For my safety, not just his.

“No,” I said without needing to think twice about my response. “He left pretty quickly after. I wish I could have talked to him to thank him.”

The lie spilled out as if I’d been telling them offhand my entire life. I didn’t think Malcolm looked suspicious. He nodded obligingly. “And you haven’t seen him again since then?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. What’s this about, anyway? Is he in some kind of trouble?”

“I’m afraid that’s a confidential matter,” Malcolm said. “But I assure you any other information you might be able to offer about him would be very helpful.”

Not helpful to Jeremy, though. I forced a smile. “There really isn’t anything I can think of. I hope whatever you need him for, you’re able to track him down.”

“If you do think of anything, please give me a call.” He reached into the pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a little silver case filled with business cards. He handed one to me. I took it, looked at the text without really seeing it, and stuffed it into my purse.

“I’ll do that. Well, I’ve got to be getting home. It looks like those clouds are going to burst any second now.”

“Of course. No need to keep you. Thank you for your time.”

I kept my steps relaxed and easy all the way to the bus stop that would take me home, even though my muscles were screaming to run. It wouldn’t have done me any good anyway. I still had to wait for the bus. And there wasn’t much I could do that would look more suspicious to that guy.

I definitely wasn’t heading straight to Jeremy’s after that conversation. What if that creep followed me there?

My heart was still thumping when the bus arrived. I huddled in a seat at the back, nibbling at my lip until I caught myself.

What had I found out, exactly? That guy was after Jeremy. Jeremy had known someone might come... but he hadn’t known for sure. I had to warn him.

I pulled out my phone—and hesitated. How had Malcolm been able to track me down anyway? My face was too blurry in that video for me to believe anyone could have identified me from it. I hadn’t told anyone about the near accident. Except the police, of course, but Malcolm hadn’t said he was with the police, hadn’t shown me a badge. He’d said he was investigating privately.

A prickle ran down my spine. He’d found out my name, where I worked, when my shift was ending—way too much information for comfort. If he could dig up all that after seeing one grainy video, who was to say what other measures he might be using to analyze the situation.

Could he be tracking my phone? I studied it, biting my lip again. If he was, he couldn’t have known that Jeremy was the same guy from the video. I’d never talked about the accident in my texts to Jeremy. It’d look like he was just a guy we’d hired for the shelter photos whom I’d happened to hit it off with.

That would change if Malcolm or whoever he was with saw me texting Jeremy to warn him.

I kept the phone clutched in my hand until the bus arrived down the street from my house. Thunder rumbled overhead. I hustled home as fast as my feet could carry me, and then slowed as I reached the shelter of the porch. As casually as I could, I took a quick look around the neighborhood.

There were cars parked in most of the spots along both sides of the street, like there usually were. I had no way of knowing whether they were all just my neighbors’ or whether someone might be watching my house.

But why would they? I was letting Jeremy’s paranoia infect me. They only knew about me from that video. I’d told Malcolm I didn’t know anything about the guy in it.

That didn’t mean he’d believed me though.

I shut the door behind me and leaned against it with a groan. I was just going in circles. I had to do something.

Phones could be tracked. Hell, a house could be bugged. I’d watched enough thrillers to know that. The only completely safe way to talk to Jeremy would be to meet up with him in person on some sort of neutral ground.

There. That would work. I just had to write a text that he’d understand was urgent but that wouldn’t look suspicious to anyone who might be monitoring me. Maybe it was crazy to think anyone might be spying anyway, but hell, a heck of a lot of crazy things had happened in the last day. At least this way I wouldn’t have to worry that I’d screwed things up.

My hands shook a little as I lifted my phone. Hey! I typed. Are you still in town? I’m feeling an urgent need for a cup of coffee. And with better company than I’ve had so far today.

Did that hint at the problem enough? I frowned at the screen, debating whether to add more.

Before I could decide, Jeremy’s response popped up.

Same place as before? I’ll see you there.

No questions, no hesitation. He must have picked up on my cues. I swallowed hard and glanced toward the living room window.

All these cloak and dagger efforts wouldn’t do Jeremy any good if I led Malcolm straight to him anywhere in town. But I could use the same strategy he had last night. Slip away out the back. I wavered, and then set down my phone. Too easy for that to give away my location.

Thankfully, the fence around my backyard was only a low chain-link one I could easily clamber over. I skirted the toys scattering the Millers’ yard and ducked down their driveway, speeding up to a jog when I reached the street beyond. Now that I was on the move, I wanted to put as much distance between me and my house as possible. I was getting pretty good at this ninja stuff.

Same place as before, Jeremy had said. We’d only gotten coffee at one place.

When I’d wandered around enough to completely muddy any trail I might have left, I hopped on another bus heading back downtown. If anyone had tracked my movements that far, they’d have thought I was batshit insane.

I still wasn’t completely sure they’d be wrong.

When I got to the coffee shop, Jeremy wasn’t there yet. Rain started to patter down outside—lightly, but another rumble of thunder told me there was plenty more to come. I went up to the counter and ordered a cappuccino like I had yesterday, just to have something to do with my hands. Gripping the mug, I picked a table off in the corner, away from the other patrons. And then I sat down to wait.