“Meaning it could take longer? Just great,” Corey muttered, trying to avoid the implication behind Scott’s reply and the way his pulse suddenly pounded.
“That depends on how quickly he steps things up another notch,” Scott said tersely.
“By coming after you.”
“Yep. That could happen after tomorrow night when he sees us together again. Before you ask, he did see us tonight. Somewhere. Otherwise he wouldn’t have said what he did.”
“Yeah, I figured that one out all by my lonesome.”
Scott laughed. “Smart kid.”
“Says the old man.”
“Twenty-seven to your twenty-three.”
“How did you—? Oh yeah, it’s in the information I gave Detective Foster that you probably read, or he told you.”
“Got it in one. Okay, we should cut this short before the stalker wonders why he’s not hearing anything in your place.”
“I turned the TV on.”
“And are sitting there, comatose, watching it? At this hour you should be getting ready for bed.”
Corey chuckled. “Yes, Daddy.”
“That did sound sort of parental. Sorry. You know what I meant.”
“Yeah. Okay, I’m off to my lonely bed.” Corey wasn’t sure why he put it that way. Fishing? Maybe.
“You and me both,” Scott replied with a small laugh. “I’ll pick you up around six tomorrow night, if that works.”
“It does. Night.”
“Night.”
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