Saint Sloan (Saint Sloan #1)(5)

Sloan took a second to catch her breath. Her heart was beating so hard it hurt. “I saw him looking in my bathroom window.”

“Your bathroom is on the second floor if I remember correctly.”

“It is, but he stood across the street. You can stand at a certain angle and see in the bathroom.” She didn’t have time to explain geometry to her. “The point is I saw him, and he saw me.”

“He was in his wheelchair, Sloan. With a monitor on it. We didn’t get an alarm that it left his house.”

Did she not get it? Why wasn’t she sending officers to check on her? Why weren’t they going to Boyd’s house? “No wheelchair. He was walking. Please. Send someone here to check it out. He could still be around somewhere.”

She turned her phone off, giving help plenty of time to get to her house quickly. Detective Morgan, the police, the cavalry, it didn’t matter as long as they showed up and showed up now.

“Where are you? Where are you?” Sloan whispered and tapped her phone nervously on her fingers. She had evidence Boyd had been there — her eyes, but the police wouldn’t believe that. They’d need something concrete, and she’d give it to them. If only she could find it.

Sloan turned when a car slowed behind her, scared it might be Boyd to grab her and drag her off to finish want he started in December.

It wasn’t Boyd. The silver Honda only belonged to one person: her best friend Mackenzie Woodard.

“Looking for something?” she asked, slightly amused as she drove slowly with the window rolled down.

“I saw him,” Sloan blurted out.

“Who?” Mackenzie slammed on the brake and put the car into park.

“Boyd!” She probably shouldn’t have yelled, but she needed someone to believe her.

“Boyd?” Mackenzie jumped out of her car and ran to Sloan’s side. “Boyd Lawrence was here? Where is he?” She looked all around them. “Where did he go?”

“I don’t know. I was brushing my teeth, and I saw him looking in the window at me from this side of the street. You can see… see?” Mackenzie’s eyes followed Sloan’s finger until they reached the bathroom window.

“I do see. You need to keep your blinds down.”

“Obviously.” Immodesty was the least of her worries.

“And you are sure it was him?”

“No doubts.”

“How did he get his wheelchair here all the way from Brown Hollow Road? Did someone drive him, you think?”

“He wasn’t in the wheelchair.”

Mackenzie’s eyes widened then her brows furrowed. Sloan felt the same way.

Confused.

Sirens broke the silence before Sloan could say any more about it. “Cops are coming.” She ran to the edge of the sidewalk and waved her hands in the air to signal where black-and-white cars needed to go. Two of them pulled up, one with Detective Mary Morgan in the front seat. She jumped out and ran to Sloan.

“Where is he now?”

“I don’t know. He was gone when I got out here.”

Detective Morgan’s steely eyes captured the entire scene in less time that it took Sloan to speak. “There’s no wheelchair marks. The grass isn’t disturbed.”

“He wasn’t in a wheelchair. He was walking. Remember? I told you that.” Okay, sure that was a difficult concept since the man was paralyzed and all, but she knew what she’d seen and she’d seen Boyd standing there all in black, looking in her window.

Detective Morgan held up her hand to keep back the other officers. “Sloan.” That tone… that tone adults used when they spoke to a child who should know better. Great. Just… terrific. “Boyd broke his back, remember? He can’t walk. He can’t even feel from the waist down.”

“Serves him right after what he did to Sloan.” Mackenzie grumbled, crossing her arms.

“Maybe.” Detective Morgan said. “But in any case, the boy couldn’t have been here because he can’t walk.”

“You’re sure. You’re one hundred percent sure he can’t walk?” It was Sloan’s turn to do the questioning.

“I read the doctor’s report, Sloan. Read all about his injuries. I saw him in rehab and talked to his physical therapist. His legs are weak. Limp. Unable to move. His PT thinks if all goes well he might walk again someday, but definitely not yet. There’s too much damage.”

Sloan let that sink in. She was glad he wasn’t dead, obviously. But it still hurt that she’d put him in a wheelchair. If he was in a wheelchair…

“Then who did I see?” It wasn’t a challenge. It wasn’t even a question, really. Who else if not Boyd? He looked exactly like him, and as far as Sloan knew, Boyd didn’t have an identical twin.

“Could have been anyone. Can you describe him to me?” Detective Morgan grabbed the little notebook she always carried in her pocket and the pen from behind her ear. She motioned for the other three officers to start looking around the area.

By that time, they were getting an audience of nosey neighbors. Sloan was in the middle of another police scene. Oh good gracious! She’d be the talk of the town again… as if they had ever stopped talking about her.

“I was getting ready, brushing my teeth. I looked in the mirror and caught a glimpse of him out here. He had on all black and his hair was a little longer than the last time I saw him, but it was him. One hundred percent him.” Okay, ninety percent him. She rolled her neck around to get the tension out. It creaked like an old screen door.