9
A vehicle had parked on the road between JJ’s neighbor’s driveway and her own. Its headlights lit up her rearview mirror as she passed, and when she turned into her driveway, they followed.
Shit.
“Pumpkin—”
“I’m not a pumpkin. Pumpkins are round,” Evie said.
“Whatever,” JJ replied. Her child’s incipient body issues were the least of her worries at the moment. “I want you to go straight to the front door and inside the house as soon as I stop the car. Okay?”
“Why? Is there—”
“Evie, okay?”
“Okay,” she said grudgingly. “But if the door’s locked, I’ll need a key.”
JJ parked the car, pulled her keys from the ignition and passed them to her daughter. Evie headed for the front door, but more slowly than her mother would have liked. JJ walked around the back of her Bronco, intending to
