Not Quite Perfect

Walt sighed. “You’re good.”

Glen leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been doing this for a while.”

“Thanks, Glen. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

“Listen, about Mary. That guy really scared her last night.”

It took a moment for Walt’s words to register. “What guy?”

“She didn’t tell you? I thought she would have called you last night.”

“We played tag with texting. What guy? What are you talking about?” Glen tapped the pen he’d been using against his desk.

“She called us on her way home from the office. She said one of her clients got a little out of hand, scared her enough to call that cop who wrote up the report after the break-in.”

The pen in Glen’s hand snapped in half. “Out of hand? Is she okay?” Damn it. Why didn’t she call him?

“Scared her. And she doesn’t scare easy. She asked that I come out and walk her into the house.”

“Jesus.” He ran his hand through his hair, glanced at his watch. It’s six in the morning there.

“She’s all right. Just shook up last night.”

“Thanks for watching out for her.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m glad she called.”

“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll get someone on these flights for you.”

Glen hung up with Walt and speed-dialed Mary.

It was obvious he woke her up.

“Tell me what happened!”

Mary met Officer Taylor at her office before she saw her first client. He brought someone from the department who dusted for prints. They packaged the water bottle and went ahead and took samples from the doorknob of her office and that of the glass door leading into the building.

She went into detail about the encounter with Jacob and how he’d presented with this instability before her home was vandalized.

Much like with Glen that morning, she second-guessed herself, her reaction, but both men didn’t think she was overreacting at all. They were going to see if any prints matched and bring Jacob Golf in for a little chat.

Once the police left, Mary took a few minutes to clean up the mess they left behind and made the phone call to Glen she’d promised.

“Ten o’clock and all is well,” she teased when he answered.

“You’re not funny.”

“I have to laugh. But all is well. The police just left, I have ten minutes before my first client. Other than the zillion questions that will come from the people in the building I’ll be answering all week, I’m good.”

“It’s good people know something is wrong.”

There was a knock on her door. “My client is early. I have to go.”

“Call when you leave.”

“At four, I know. We already talked about this.”

“Be safe.”

“Good-bye, Glen.”

“Four o’clock.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The prints on the water bottle weren’t the best,” Officer Taylor explained over the phone. “I have forensics checking those we picked up on the door. But I have to tell you, it’s a low priority.”

Mary didn’t like the sound of that. “Why?”

“Honestly, because no one was hurt. Breaking and entering and petty vandalism—”

“There was nothing petty about what happened at my house!”

“I understand that, Miss Kildare, but in the eyes of the law. This isn’t at the top of our list. Yes, we’re invested in solving the case, but forensics is completely bogged down with violent crimes, homicides, and felonies. I’m sure you understand. A family counselor spooked by a man who finds out his wife is having an affair doesn’t compete. Not in our imperfect system.”

This was not the news she wanted to hear twenty-four hours after Jacob left her office.

“Have you brought Mr. Golf in for questioning?”

Office Taylor paused.

His silence answered her question before he uttered a word. “He wasn’t at his place of business today and the estranged wife hasn’t seen him in a week.”

“Great. Just great.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do more. If you’re threatened directly, or something else occurs, notify me.”

“I did that.” And it isn’t helping!

“Miss Kildare, do you own a firearm?”

Yet another question about having a gun. “I didn’t think I needed to.”

He let the question about owning a gun alone, apologized again, and hung up.

Glen was expecting an update. Considering how upset he’d been about learning what had happened via Walt, Mary went ahead and called his cell when she got off the phone with the police.

“Hey!”

“You don’t sound happy,” he said.

“I’m pissed.” She relayed the conversation, which left both of them seething.

“So they’re waiting for blood to do anything.”

“Don’t say it like that!” But Mary knew he was right.

“I’m canceling my London trip.”

Mary stopped pacing her kitchen. “The hell you are!”

“I can’t be on the other side of the ocean with this going on.”

“Glen, no! I told you I’d keep you up to date on what’s happening to make you feel better, not for you to put your life on hold.”