Chapter 23: Stay in the Truck

Tiernan's POV

I woke at six and the bed was cold on her side.

Her phone sat on the nightstand, face down.

The Matching Log lives in that phone, and she had left it behind.

Under it was a note in her slanted handwriting.

"Gone to Denver. Do not follow me. Actually, follow me, but stay in the truck."

I read it twice.

Then I put on yesterday's jeans and went.

I parked across from the shop on Larimer Street at ten past eight.

Through the window I could see her standing at the counter in her old gray cardigan.

She was not looking at her phone, because her phone was on my nightstand.

She was looking at the rack.

I turned off the engine and kept my hands on the wheel.

That was the hard part.

If she walked out in something her sister owned, I would say nothing.

If she walked out in something new, I would say nothing either.

Either way, I had come to watch, not to grade her.

The rain started while I sat there.

It came down on the windshield in fat drops, and the street went dark and shiny.

A man ran past with a newspaper over his head.

In the shop window, the woman at the counter lifted something off the last hook and held it up.

It was a raincoat, in the loudest yellow I had ever seen on a coat.

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