Page 64 of One More Chance
I put the phone down and glanced at the kids. Violet had her forehead pressed to the window, watching the wind jostle the trees. Liam was scrolling through his phone, but his eyes were glossed over as if he wasn't really seeing anything.
“Change of plans,” I said and I injected warmth into my voice. “You guys are with me tonight. Mom’s stuck at work. How does burgers sound?”
Violet perked up slightly. “What about gluten-free pizza? Can we build a pillow fort? Can Rufus sleep with us?”
Liam gave me a sidelong glance. “Do you even know how to make burgers? Or are we ordering pizza?”
I grinned. “Watch it, boy. You’re about to witness greatness in the kitchen. I might even break out the garlic bread for our buns.”
That earned a small smile from both of them. A flicker of light in all the uncertainty.
As we pulled into the driveway, Rufus barked with excitement through the window by the front door. I stepped out into the cool, heavy air and helped the kids get their stuff inside. Rufus immediately shoved his nose into Violet’s hand, then circled Liam before trotting up to me with a snort.
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, rubbing behind his ears. “I know. It’s going to be a long night.”
Inside, I started pulling out the meat while the kids unpacked their school bags at the kitchen table. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or exactly how long this would all last… but tonight, I had this moment.
Sloane had trusted me. The kids needed me. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
The kids were in the living room, half-watching cartoons with plates of half-eaten burgers in their laps when my phone vibrated on the counter: an unknown number. I stared at it, heart stuttering in my chest.
I dried my hands on a dish towel, the scent of lemon soap still clinging to my skin, and stepped out onto the porch. The late evening air had cooled, but it did nothing to stop the burn crawling up my neck.
“Hello?” I answered, cautious.
The voice on the other end was low and clipped, the kind that didn’t waste time. “Mr. Shaw? Detective Harlan.”
My stomach tightened. The air suddenly felt like it was pressing down on me. “Yeah. Speaking.”
“We believe we have enough evidence to move forward on Angie Collins.”
I didn’t speak. I should’ve felt relieved, grateful even… but instead, a slow, sour twist settled in my gut. Like hearing the gun cock before the trigger’s pulled. My throat tightened. “What kind of evidence?”
“We’ve connected the threatening notes to her handwriting,” he continued. “The home footage, your wife’s witness statements, and now we’ve got a neighbor’s Ring camera that shows her casing your property multiple times. It’s enough to push for a warrant.”
My mouth went dry. I stared out at the quiet street, the comforting hum of crickets suddenly hollow.
The detective continued, oblivious to the rising discomfort in my silence. “We’re finalizing the paperwork, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. When we move on her, it could get loud. We don’t know how she’ll react. Based on her behavior so far, we've seen that she's been erratic and obsessive. This may not be clean.”
I exhaled sharply through my nose. “So, what does that mean for us?”
“It means keep your doors locked. Keep the kids close. And don’t let your wife be alone, if you can help it.”
There it was, the dread. I felt bile creep up my throat, burning my chest.
I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck. “That’s going to be difficult. Sloane works.”
There was a pause before a measured response. “Then inform her supervisor. Have them keep an eye out. Let the workplace know to contact the police if anything unusual happens: strangers lurking, phone calls, a woman showing up uninvited. This isn’t paranoia, Mr. Shaw. It’s precaution.”
“Yeah, you're right. Precaution. Thank you, detective.”
“You've got a family, Mr. Shaw. The goal is to keep everyone safe. We’ll do our part. You do yours.”
I thanked him and hung up, standing still on the porch for a long moment.
Across the quiet street, a single car sat idling, lights off. It could’ve been nothing. Could’ve been a neighbor. But I knew better than to dismiss anything now.
The door creaked open behind me. Violet’s voice, soft, “Daddy?”
