Page 7 of Blind Date


  Sleepwalking.

  Could that really be what’s happening?

  Why does my gut tell me there’s more to it?

  NINE

  “So it happened again?” Jacob asks, sipping his coffee as we sit across from each other at breakfast the morning after my big test.

  “Yeah,” I shrug. “I don’t honestly remember anything, I just know that the video was playing when I woke up.”

  He purses his lips, deep in thought. “And you’re concerned about it?”

  I purse my lips, too, and then nod. “I’m a little worrie—I mean, what if it isn’t me doing it…”

  His brows knit together. “You think someone is doing it on purpose?”

  “That sounds stupid when you say it out loud,” I mumble, staring down at my plate of untouched scrambled eggs.

  “Can I get you another coffee?” the waitress asks as she passes.

  Both of us decline, and she continues on her way without another word. She’s been too busy smiling and flirting with the group of men sitting at the next table to pay too much attention to us.

  “It’s not stupid,” Jacob assures me, reaching over and patting my hand. “How is your security in that place?”

  I give him a sheepish look. “It’s not that great, I’ll admit. I could probably break into my front door without a lot of effort, but I figure it’s safe enough because it’s in a good area, you know. And Ace lives right next door.”

  “Ace?” Jacob questions.

  Right, I forgot I never told Jacob that I live next door to a detective, and one who can, more often than not, be a dick.

  “Yeah, he’s a detective. I don’t have a great deal to do with him, though.”

  He nods, glancing down at his breakfast. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, then he looks back up at me. “Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to change your locks for you. It’ll make both you and me feel safer. Is that okay?”

  My heart flutters. That’s sweet. He cares enough to make sure that I not only feel safer, but am safer. “That’s kind, thank you.”

  He smiles, and continues with his breakfast. When we’re done, we go down to the local hardware shop and get some new locks and keys, and then we head back to my apartment. We’re just through the front doors when I see Ace coming out of the elevator and making his way towards us. He stops when he notices us. He’s fully dressed for work, but I would have thought he went to work earlier. Maybe he came home for something.

  He must have needed to come home for something.

  His eyes scan over Jacob, and I could swear his lip curls a little. God. He is such a dick when he wants to be. He doesn’t even know the man and he’s giving him a look like he wants to flick him away like some sort of annoying bug. I exhale and walk towards him, stopping in front of him and tipping my head back just slightly to look up at him. “Ace, it’s nice to see you again. This is my friend, Jacob.”

  Ace studies me, eyes dropping to my lips, and then flicking over to Jacob. “What are the locks for?”

  I cringe.

  No Hello.

  No Pleased to meet you.

  Just demands. Always with the demands.

  “I wanted to change Hart’s locks,” Jacob says, his voice gruff, too. “Her old ones aren’t very good.”

  Ace keeps staring at him, narrowing his eyes. “Yes, I’m aware.”

  Sheesh.

  This man really has no tact, at all.

  “So I’m changing them,” Jacob retorts. “She doesn’t feel safe.”

  Ace looks back to me. “You never told me you weren’t feeling safe.”

  He’s acting like we’re friends, and I should have told him this information.

  This man confuses the hell out of me.

  “No offense,” I say, my voice a little snippy. “But I think I’ve had one decent conversation with you. I don’t know why you think I’d tell you that.”

  He scowls at me.

  I scowl right back.

  Then he nods, and starts walking. Like we didn’t just have that conversation. He just dismisses Jacob and me, without even a good bye. Gosh. The insults I want to hurl at him right now are bubbling in my chest, just waiting to explode out, but I keep them in.

  “God, he’s a dick,” I mutter, turning to Jacob. “Sorry about that.”

  Jacob is watching him go, and only when Ace is out the front doors, does he turn to me. “That jerk is your neighbor?”

  “Sadly, yes.”

  He exhales. “I feel sorry for you. He’s an ass. Come on, let’s get these locks changed up for you. I’m starting to see it’ll make me feel better, too.”

  I nod and follow him to my apartment, unlocking the front door. Jacob gets to work pulling the old locks off, and replacing them with the new ones. When he’s done, he hands me a set of keys. “New keys. If you have any problems with them, give me a call. Hopefully you’ll feel safer now.”

  I smile at him. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

  He winks, and then extends a hand and takes mine, pulling me closer. I let him bring me in for a hug, and he leans down, sweeping his lips across mine.

  “I have to get back to work,” he murmurs. “I really don’t want to, but I have to. I’ll call you later.”

  “Okay,” I say softly, staring up at him through my lashes.

  “Bye, Hartley.”

  “Later, Jacob.”

  I watch him go, smiling.

  Yeah, he’s a good one.

  TEN

  “That douche your boyfriend?”

  I turn at the sound of a voice coming from behind me just as I’m opening my apartment door after doing a shift at the hospital for my training. I haven’t seen Ace in the few days since Jacob and I ran into him. I didn’t even see him there, honestly, I wasn’t paying any attention at all. I usually hear him, but I’ve been off in my own little world the last few days. I can’t really explain why, but my mind is just so distracted.

  “Jacob?”

  He shrugs. “Yeah. Is he your boyfriend or not?”

  “Why?”

  He looks to the ceiling.

  Impatient, isn’t he?

  “Can you just answer a question without being sarcastic?”

  Oh. Snappy.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I am dating him, yes.”

  Ace snorts.

  “What’s the damned problem?” I snap at him, putting my hands on my hips.

  He curls his lip. Obviously, he doesn’t like Jacob. “He’s a weasel.”

  God.

  “And you say that after only meeting him once? Where you didn’t even acknowledge his presence?”

  Ace just stares at me, unapologetically.

  “He’s a nice man,” I go on. “Unlike you.”

  He keeps staring.

  “He does things for me … like fixes my locks … and takes me out…”

  Now I sound pathetic.

  “Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?”

  Grrrr.

  “I swear, Ace, I’m seriously considering coming over there and fly kicking you in the damned face.”

  He crosses his arms. “I’d like to see that.”

  “What is your problem?” I cry, throwing my hands up. “Seriously, can’t you just be nice?”

  “I am being nice.”

  “Oh my god!” I say, my eyes rolling to the ceiling. “Screw it.”

  I shove my door open and step inside, slamming it with all my might. It doesn’t make me feel any better, not really, but I’m still satisfied that he would have heard the booming and felt it right to his bones, the jackass. Exhaling, I lock the door and walk into the kitchen, dumping my stuff down. I need wine. Stat. I need something to help me unwind, because honestly, I feel so uptight right now. I need to relax.

  I pour a glass for myself, topping it up after every few sips. I kick off my shoes, change into something comfortable—small cotton shorts and a tank—and then I kick back on the sofa and continue drink
ing the wine. It goes down way too well, and before I know it, I’ve polished off half the bottle. My body is relaxed and I sink back into the chair, exhaling.

  The power goes out.

  I swear, one minute everything is bright and the next I’m thrust into pitch-black. For a moment, I just sit there, then I burst into hysterical laughter. As if everything that’s happened in the last few days hasn’t been enough, now this on my one night where I can enjoy myself, and sleep in tomorrow. Of course this would happen.

  There’s a pounding at my door, and my head whips over in its general direction. I’m still laughing hysterically, far beyond tipsy, as I stumble towards the small strip of light coming from beneath the gap in the door. I reach it—slam into it, actually—face squashing against the wood. It stops my laughter for a brief second as an uncomfortable pain shoots up my nose, and then I go right back to giggling again. Finally I unlock the door and fling it open.

  Ace is standing there, flashlight pointed to the ground. I can just see his face in the light bouncing off the floor. He looks … well … like he always looks. Moody.

  “I’m still alive, if that’s what you’re here checking,” I giggle.

  One brow cocks. “Are you drunk?”

  “Tipsy.”

  “Same difference.”

  “Actually,” I smirk, “there is a difference.”

  He grunts. “I was checking if you’d lost power, too. I guess we’re all out.”

  I giggle. “You were checking if I was still alive, admit it. You want to be my friend.”

  “Jesus,” he mumbles under his breath. “Have you got a flashlight in there? I’m not going to ask if you’ve got candles because I’d prefer not to die tonight when you burn the entire apartment complex down because you’re drunk.”

  “Are you always this dramatic or am I the only lucky one that gets to experience it?”

  I’m sure if I could see, he’d be rolling his eyes. I smile. “Where are your flashlights?”

  I shrug, though I’m not sure he can see it. “I’m not really sure, it’s been a long time since we’ve had a power outage.”

  “Okay, go and sit on the sofa, I’ll find you one.”

  “No. I’ll help you look.”

  A deep sound graces that throat, and then he sighs. “Okay, where would you normally keep them?”

  I try to think of where I’d most likely put my flashlights, but I haven’t really needed them. So I guess I’d store them somewhere out of the way. I’m guessing the spare room.

  “Probably in the spare room. We can start there.”

  Ace locks my door, and then we move down the hall and I shove open the spare room door. I reach for the light, only to realize it isn’t going to work. Well, I guess we’re sharing a flashlight, then. I reach over for the one Ace is holding, but he jerks his hand back. “No. I’ll hold it.”

  Bossy.

  “Well, shine it around then, we’re not going to see anything if you keep it pointed at the floor.”

  He shines the flashlight around the room, and we move to the cabinet I have in the corner. It has heaps of pens, stationery, paper, things like that in it. There might be a flashlight stashed in there somewhere. I open drawers and start rifling through it while Ace holds the light over everything, so I can see. We come up empty, so I move to Raymond’s old desk, which is in the corner and piled up with crap.

  I could never bring myself to sell it, but I couldn’t bring myself to use it, either. So it just sits there, collecting dust.

  I start shoving things aside when my hand freezes, extended in front of me, like I’m reaching for something.

  I blink. Then I blink again. No. It can’t be. I shake my head, wondering if I’m just imagining things, if the alcohol is making me see things that aren’t there, but I know I’m not. I’d know that laptop anywhere. Raymond used to take it everywhere with him. I haven’t been able to find it—I know because I went searching through the boxes only a few months ago, looking.

  I couldn’t remember where I put it.

  I know for a fact it was not sitting on the desk … open.

  My heart lodges into my throat. Maybe I could believe it was sleepwalking when it was just a few small things, but this … not even someone sleepwalking could have found this easily. No way in the world. Something is wrong. Something is definitely wrong. I tremble, my hand is still extended out in front of me, and for a second I have forgotten Ace is standing right next to me.

  “Hartley?”

  His voice is probably the kindest I’ve ever heard it, but even then it still holds a sharp edge.

  I can’t move.

  I honestly can’t move.

  What is happening right now?

  “Hartley?”

  Ace again.

  My hand falls, dropping to my side, and I whisper, “Ace, something is wrong.”

  It’s not much of an explanation, and honestly, I don’t know why I’m even telling him, because he’s been nothing but a dick to me, but he is a cop, and whatever is happening right now, it isn’t right. One thing, I can overlook; two, I can brush off; but this … no. No. Something is very, very wrong.

  “You’re not making any sense. Hey, look at me.”

  I look over to him, and my eyes meet his.

  “I think someone has been in my house.”

  * * *

  I stare at the floor, suddenly starkly sober, trying to get my mind in order, trying to figure out why someone would be trying to mess with me, and who that might be. Because that’s what they’re doing, right? They’re messing with me. Why else would someone place things from my husband all around my house? There is no valid explanation. None whatsoever. Except that someone is doing it on purpose. But who? Why?

  Raymond couldn’t have done this, could he? I mean, is this some sort of P.S. I Love You re-enactment? No. If it was Raymond, it would have happened earlier. This is just too off for it to be some old supernatural romantic gesture coming to the surface.

  “Tell me what’s been happening,” Ace says, sitting on the sofa across from me.

  The power came back on a couple of minutes ago, and we came out here. I open my mouth, and I know he’s not going to leave now until I tell him what I know. Will he think I’m crazy? Am I going crazy? I don’t know if I’m overreacting, or if this is a real thing. I don’t know what to think, to be completely honest. It’s all just too … strange.

  “Well, I first noticed something off when I found a shirt of Raymond’s, my deceased husband, on the kitchen table one morning. I was sure I’d packed the shirt away, but I have a history of sleepwalking, so I figured maybe I’d come across it and placed it there without knowing. Then I woke up one morning, and my wedding video was playing right there on my television. Again, I wondered if I had somehow put it on myself…”

  “Do you often do things when sleepwalking?” Ace asks, cutting me off.

  I give him a look, but his face is serious and I realize he’s not being rude, so I answer him honestly. “Well, Taylor, my best friend, told me I did it a few times in college. Raymond never mentioned it. I have been known to get out of bed, and I’ve sometimes found myself sleeping in odd places, but I’ve never actually moved things, as far as I know. But I have been thinking of Raymond more of late, and I wondered if maybe he was playing on my mind and that would explain why I was gravitating towards his things.”

  He seems skeptical, and that only makes my heart clench more. “But you saw something in that office tonight that made you second guess.”

  I meet Ace’s eyes. “His laptop. I haven’t been able to find it anywhere, I went through all my boxes, all my things, and couldn’t find it. That’s not to say it wasn’t here—it could have been stored somewhere I didn’t look—but the thing is, if I couldn’t find it awake, what are the chances of me finding it sleepwalking?”

  Ace is deep in thought as he stares at me, then he murmurs, “Anything else been happening? Strange phone calls? Anyone talking to you on the street? Anythin
g out of the ordinary at all?”

  I think about that for a minute, but no, I can’t think of anything else that might count as strange.

  “I went on a few dates recently, but honestly, I feel like they were normal enough to not do something like this.”

  Ace nods, studying me. “I’d like their names, just to be safe.”

  I nod back, frowning.

  “Is it possible you’ve sleepwalked and actually done all of this? Really ask yourself, is that something you believe to be possible, at all?”

  I do as he asks, I really think about it, I dig deep into the depths of my soul. And the answer is the same. I don’t honestly believe it’s all sleepwalking. I haven’t truly believed that from the start. I know something isn’t right, I can feel it right in the pit of my belly. I just wanted to put it down to something simple because I felt like that would make more sense, but the fact of the matter is, I just know it isn’t simple.

  Something is off, I just don’t know what it is.

  I meet and hold his eyes. “No. For the first few things, I could brush it off, but—this is going to sound stupid—my gut just felt … I don’t know how to explain it, but something just didn’t feel right.”

  Ace nods, and then pulls out his phone, typing something in. “I’m going to make some calls in the morning, see if I can find anything out. I’ll talk to security in this place, see if they’ve picked up anything. Is there anyone else you can think of, anyone at all, who might be doing this? No friends thinking it would be funny to play a joke on you?”

  I shake my head right away. “I don’t know anyone that would be that cruel, and that’s the honest truth. I haven’t met anyone new outside of those few dates I mentioned.”

  “And you’re sure they didn’t feel off to you?”

  I purse my lips. “They were a little weird, but not in a stalker, come-into-your-house kind of way. One was a little obsessed with younger women, and did message me on social media apologizing for being shallow, but I don’t feel he was a bad man, you know?”

  Ace nods again, and tucks his phone away. “I’d still like all their details. Do you feel safe sleeping here tonight?”