Chapter 2 - The Watcher on the Curb
Elena froze, her gaze darting from the glowing notification to the dark window above the kitchen sink. The blinds were half-drawn, slanting yellow beams onto the damp asphalt below. Cole noticed the shift in her expression, the rage instantly eclipsed by primal dread.
""Elena? What is it?"" Cole asked, taking an instinctual step closer, his own guilt momentarily swallowed by caution.
""Stay back,"" she warned, holding a hand up. She edged sideways toward the counter, keeping her back pressed against the cabinetry until she could reach the edge of the vinyl blinds. With trembling fingertips, she parted two slats.
Parked directly across the narrow street beneath a buzzing sodium streetlamp was a sleek black sedan, engine idling in a low, rumbling hum. Exhaust rose in pale plumes into the autumn drizzle. In the driver’s seat sat a silhouette with a lit cigarette glowing like an angry ember in the dark cabin.
""Who is that?"" Elena whispered, her voice fracturing. ""Did Vanessa send someone? Did you?""
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""I swear to God, Elena, I don't know anything about a car,"" Cole said, his hands raised in surrender. ""Vanessa is unhinged. When I broke things off with her, she threatened to ruin everything, but I thought she was bluffing. You have to believe me—that video was recorded six months ago, before I—""
""Save it,"" Elena cut him off, her phone vibrating again. This time it was an audio file. With trembling hands, she pressed play. A woman's raspy, familiar voice purred through the speaker: “Tell Cole he has ten minutes to bring me the flash drive from the lockbox, or the next video goes straight to your father’s attorneys.”
