Dance With Me (With Me in Seattle #12)(22)

“Lubbock,” she says. “Like the city. Please talk to him and tell him to leave me alone.”

“I’ll talk to him. If you’re that afraid of him, you can take out a restraining order.”

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that,” she says with a sigh.

I tip my head and leave, closing the door behind me, then walk down to Anderson and the uniform at the end of the sidewalk.

“You can remove the tape and go,” I say to the uniform. “We’re done here.”

“Yes, sir,” he says.

Anderson and I get in the car.

“Pull up a Jeremy Lubbock. We’ll go pay him a visit.”

“Got it,” Anderson says, pulling up the name on his phone. “Found him. She was a piece of work.”

“She was interesting,” I agree, rubbing my fingertips over my mouth. “I didn’t believe a word she said.”

“I didn’t either.”

Jeremy lives about three miles away from Francesca. “I wonder what they do for a living that they’re both home this time of day?”

“Looks like they work at the airport,” Anderson says. “Makes sense. Shift work.”

“That would explain it,” I agree as I pull into the driveway behind a minivan. “Van. Could Jeremy be a family man?”

“There are toys in the yard,” Anderson says with a sigh. “Well, shit.”

“Shit indeed.”

We get out of the car and walk to the front door. I ring the bell. A few seconds later, a woman in her early twenties with a baby on her hip opens the door.

“Yes?” she says, her smile faltering.

“I’m Detective Crawford, and this is my partner Officer Anderson.”

“Oh God, is my dad okay?” she asks, tears filling her eyes.

“We are not here to inform anyone of a death or accident,” I quickly assure her. “We’re looking for Jeremy Lubbock.”

“Oh.” She blinks rapidly. “Of course. Come in.”

We follow her inside.

“Jer!”

“I’m right here.” A tall, lean man is standing at the top of the staircase, watching us. He descends. “How can I help you?”

“First, do you know a Francesca Smith?”

He frowns, and his eyes dart to his wife, then back to me.

“Yes. I work with her at the airport.”

Good. Don’t lie to me.

“She called in a burglary this morning and told us you’ve been harassing her at work. She’s pretty sure you stole her mother’s wedding band just to dick with her.”

I watch them both carefully. How they react in the next second will tell me everything.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jeremy’s wife mutters, shaking her head. “I told you to call the cops two weeks ago.”

Jeremy wipes his hand down his face. “Jesus.”

“So, do you have the ring?” I ask.

“Fuck, no,” he responds immediately. Now this guy, I believe. “I’m not the one who’s been pursuing her. She’s crazy, man.”

“Batshit,” his wife agrees. “Show him the texts.”

“There are texts?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah. Here.” Jeremy takes his phone out and proceeds to show me pages and pages of disturbing text messages. “This is where they start, about three weeks ago when I started the job. At first, it wasn’t too crazy.”

Can I call you?

Are you alone?

I think you’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met.

“Why did she have your number?” Anderson asks.

“I don’t know how she got it,” Jeremy replies. “And I’ve changed it three times since she started texting. She always finds the new one. I can prove that I changed it.”

“I believe you.”

I do. There’s no reason for him to lie to me about this, and as I flip through the texts, they get more and more disturbing.

I know you’re there, you’re just not answering me. Is it because of that stupid Karen? I know you don’t really love her.

“Are you Karen?”

Jeremy’s wife nods soberly. “Yeah. She started texting me, too. Telling me to stay away from her man.”

“Jesus,” Anderson mutters, reading over my shoulder.

I want you to fuck me. I want you inside of me. I can make you so happy! I can make you come in ways you’ve never dreamed of.

“Creepy,” I mutter, still flipping. Finally, I get to last night.

I can ruin you, you asshole. You think I can’t? I can claim that you’ve stolen from me. I can tell the cops you raped me. That you’ve been after me for years, and no matter what I do, you won’t leave me alone. I can RUIN YOUR FUCKING LIFE!! I’m not joking, Jeremy.

I raise a brow when I see the three dots winking at me at the bottom of the screen.

“Seems she has something to say right now.”

We wait a few moments, all four of us staring at the small screen, and then the message comes through.

I told you I wouldn’t stop fighting for you. I warned you.

“Looks like a whole bunch of threats to me,” Anderson says.

“You can press charges for harassment,” I inform Jeremy. “Between all of the proof on your phone and the bogus call to us this morning, you’ll have no problems getting the charges to stick. I can go arrest her right now.”