Page 160 of A Lick and A Promise
“You got a stalker?” he demanded.
“Shit, you have a stalker?” Byron asked.
“I might have a stalker,” I conceded, but only because I didn’t want to worry them about the fact I did, indeed, have a stalker.
“What’s Chambers doing about this stalker?” Tex asked.
“There’s nothing we can do,” I told him. His bushy eyebrows shot up. “Though, Knox will be texting you a picture of her so we can all keep a lookout. We have to have a log of it just in case we need to go for a restraining order or something.”
At this point, Willow stumbled out from the coffee cubby holding a tray she used to carry in some of her muffins, or cupcakes, or cookies.
“Ohmigod, Tex, get back in there,” she ordered. “Someone clawed me on the way out.”
Tex ignored her and looked at Raye. “What you gonna do about this stalker?”
“We talked to a cop, Tex, and he said you shouldn’t engage,” Raye informed him.
Tex had very good hearing, he still repeated, “What you gonna do about this stalker?”
“We don’t want to make some move and make it worse,” Raye retorted.
Tex turned to me. “You got an address on this woman?”
“No,” I said.
“Mason will,” Tex decreed.
That would be true. I had no doubt Mace knew exactly where to find Cheyenne.
“Why are you asking?” Raye queried.
“Because she can’t stalk if I disable her car,” Tex stated.
My mouth dropped open. So did Raye’s. Willow’s eyes got big.
Byron whispered, “Holy shit.”
Tex just walked back to the coffee cubby, a part cheer, mostly impatient outcry rang out, to which Tex boomed, “Pipe down!”
And they did.
Willow approached the bar and said, “I’m not sure he should disable her car.”
“She’s behaving like a lunatic. I think he should have at it,” Raye replied.
I didn’t want to talk about Cheyenne.
Though, I kinda wanted to go with Tex just to learn how to disable a car.
“Due to executed henchmen and a scene at Starbucks that Knox had to deal with…” I began.
Byron made a strangling noise.
“…I couldn’t get into it with him about our proposed chat with the underboss of the Russian mob…”
Byron sounded like he was dying.
“…but I’ll talk to him tonight. Maybe we can make a reservation at his restaurant tomorrow?” I suggested.
