Professional Restraint

47 You Blew It!

Ella

After Sophia drops me off, I slip next door to check on my neighbours. They always keep an eye on my place when I'm away. Not that I expected otherwise, but apparently it was a quiet weekend here. One of the joys of living in an older neighbourhood is the low crime and lots of eyes watching out for each other.

I slow on my way home, spotting a man in a black tailored suit jogging over from his car parked on the street. He's middle-aged, brown hair and eyes, but something about his demeanor screams law enforcement over businessmen...

"Miss. Excuse me, miss?" he calls, waving me down.

"Yes?" There's no use pretending I didn't see him. We're in broad daylight and the Lee's are watching me from the porch where we were just talking.

"Ella Carter?" he asks.

I swallow hard, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of my stomach. How does he know my name? He knows where I live too? Who is he?

"Yes," I answer, trying to keep my voice even. I hear some kind of muffled voice on the phone he holds, but can't make out what they're saying.

He stops and holds up his hands. "I'm sorry, Miss Carter. I don't mean to worry you." He slips the phone back into its holder next to a holstered gun.

My eyes widen and I step back towards my house, ready to bolt, but knowing full well I can't outrun a bullet.

The man reaches into his outside jacket pocket and flips open a badge, showing it to me. "I'm officer Lawrence. I do freelance pi work on the side."

I creep forward to get a better look at the badge. It looks real as far as I can tell. My gaze darts between the badge and him. "Okay?"

"I just need a minute of your time," he says, tucking the badge away.

"I don't understand," I mumble, furrowing my brows. "Am I in trouble or something?"

My mind races, trying to figure out why he would be here. The car's tags are expired, but it's in the garage and I don't drive... the neighbours said nothing happened this weekend. What could he possibly want?

"Nothing like that, ma'am," he assures me. "My employer is concerned for your safety, though, and sent me over to help."

"My safety?!" I parrot back, feeling my heart hammer in my chest. "Do I need to go to the police? Who is your boss?" Questions spring to mind faster than I can ask or process them. Who would want to hurt me?!

"I'm afraid my employer prefers to remain anonymous, and this isn't the kind of thing the police can help with." He pauses and opens his jacket, pulling a large manila envelope from it.

Alarm bells ring in the back of my mind as doubt creeps up. "I suppose only you can help me? Or your mystery employer?"

The man shakes his head. "It's not like that at all. Here." He holds the envelope out for me but doesn't advance.

I narrow my gaze and stare at the dull yellow paper envelope. I see them all the time, yet something about this one has my stomach twisting into knots.

"What is it?" I make no move to take it.

"It's just information. What you chose to do with it is up to you." His answer feels harmless, but something feels very off about the entire situation.

"No." I take another step back towards the house, having had enough of this. "You need to leave. I'm calling the cops."

My threat doesn't faze him. He stands still with the envelope still outstretched for me.

"That's okay ma'am. Say hi to Margie. She's on desk duty today. But they'll verify who I am."