heads by the restroom door. There was a drinking fountain against the far wall. Of course.
Mandy and Alyssa walked toward her, hand in hand.
“I see them,” Leah said, nodding at the grocer. Instead of taking her children and leaving the store, she ducked into the bathroom with them, her pulse pounding. With shaking hands, she removed the cell phone from her purse and dialed the U.S. Marshals Service.
“What’s wrong?” Mandy asked.
“Never do that again,” Leah said, somewhere between furious and terrified. “I thought you’d been kidnapped!”
“Deputy Marshal Dominguez,” a man answered.
“This is Leah Hansen,” she said, lowering her voice and facing away from her daughters. “I just saw Felix.”
“Where?”
“At Green Market on Mission Road. I’m still here, in the bathroom.”
“What’s his current location?”
“I don’t know. He might be in the store.”
“Okay,” he said. “Sit tight. An officer will be there in a few minutes.”
It was twenty minutes before Dominguez arrived, and by then Felix was long gone. Working in conjunction with the USMS, Oceanside Police evacuated the market and searched the premises, to no avail.
While a female officer watched over the girls, Leah was questioned in detail about the sighting. She repeated the same information over and over, growing less certain each time she gave the description.
“Are you sure it was him?” Dominguez asked.
“No,” she said, rubbing her arms. It was cold in the store, and she couldn’t stop shivering.
“Let me show you the video.”
Leah watched footage from two separate cameras. Both were poor quality and neither had captured a good angle. The height and body type fit Mariano Felix, but there was no way to make a positive identification.
“I looked right at him in the mirror,” she said again.
“The mirror distorts reflections.”
He’d mentioned that already.
“I’ll take the footage to tech support and try to have it cleaned up,” Dominguez offered. “We’ll also run the license plate numbers for all of the cars in the parking lot. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“Do I have to move again?” she asked.
His brows rose at the question. In the past eighteen months, they’d relocated her from Kansas City to Seattle, and from Seattle to Oceanside. “I doubt it. Sightings like this aren’t uncommon, Leah. I’d like for you to speak with a psychologist—”
“You don’t believe me?”
He gave her a reassuring smile. “We will investigate to the fullest. In the meantime, it’s wise to exercise caution. A squad car will patrol your neighborhood over the weekend. You can meet with Dr. Phelps on Monday.”
“Fine,” she said, sighing. She didn’t want to be relocated. She just wanted this nightmare to be over.
Brian washed and dried the plastic containers and put them back inside the red-striped gift bag Leah had given him.
He’d planned to leave the items on her doorstep. It was almost 9:00 p.m., pretty late for a family with young children, and it hadn’t escaped his attention that she wasn’t interested in continuing their acquaintance. But before he could set down the bag and walk away, she wrenched the door open.
Her gaze was wide-eyed and mildly accusatory. He wasn’t surprised by that, having encountered her fierce protectiveness before. What knocked him for a loop, once again, was her beauty. Maybe because she appeared plain from a distance, he was fascinated by how striking she was up close.
Over the past week, he’d told himself that his memory had embellished the loveliness of her face or the shape of her breasts.
A quick glance down confirmed his recollection. The soft, loose shirt didn’t quite camouflage her figure. He suspected she wasn’t wearing a bra and might have been tempted to stare if he hadn’t noticed a far more important detail: she looked distraught.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Just to return this,” he said, handing her the gift bag.
Accepting it, she peeked inside. “You didn’t have to. The containers are disposable.”
“Oh.” Now he felt like an ass for disturbing her. “Well, thanks again for the invite. Everything was delicious.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
Brian worried that she was going to break down in sobs the moment he walked away. “What’s wrong?”
Shaking her head, she avoided his gaze.
“Is someone bothering you? Besides me, I mean.”
She laughed at his self-deprecating humor. It was a strange, sad laugh, and an awkward moment, but some of the tension between them eased. “You’re not bothering me,” she said. “I just had a rough day.”
“Tell me about it.”
After a moment’s deliberation, she waved him inside. “The girls are in bed already.”
Brian’s pulse jumped at the news. Her girls were great, but he liked the idea of being alone with her.
“If I had anything besides juice, I’d offer you a drink.”
“I’m not much of a drinker,” he said, shrugging. He bought a six-pack every so often, but never drank more than one at a time.
She sat down on the couch, gesturing for him to do the same. “I had a scare earlier.”
His muscles tightened. “What kind of a scare?”
“Mandy and Alyssa walked away from me at the grocery store. When I went to look for them, I couldn’t find them. I panicked.”
“Where were they?”
“At the drinking fountain,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I felt this overpowering terror. I didn’t know what to do, or where to start searching for them. And I didn’t handle it well.”
Brian’s shoulders relaxed slightly. No one had hurt her or her children. “How did you handle it?”
“I ran around the store, screaming like a crazy woman.”
He smiled at the obvious exaggeration.
“It’s not funny,” she said.
“No,” he agreed, schooling his expression.
