THE FILLED-TO-CAPACITY trolley made me grateful Nathan had insisted I bring the pickup. Poppy drew alongside me with her smaller trolley, as I came to a stop beside the truck. She rambled on about Christmas, while I distracted myself by loading the numerous bags into the bed.
As I reached down for the last three bags, the uncomfortable sensation of being watched prickled the back of my neck—exactly how it had in the DIY Depot.
Scouring the car park, I sampled the air, my ears strained for those damn alarm bells.
“Jem?”
I held up a finger. Poppy simply completed loading the shopping, while I scanned left to right.
A woman, strawberry blonde, tall, hourglass figure. Mature couple, evidently still enjoying each other in their entwined method of walking. Empty red Fiesta. Empty blue Polo.
