Pen Pal

24

When I arrive at the tree I saw the man standing under, I look closely at the ground. If I can find footsteps, I’ll be able to tell where he ran off to. The ground is muddy around the trunk and bare of grass, so I should be able to spot something.

But there’s nothing there.

No footprints. No disturbed earth. No sign of the person who stood and stared at me.

My hair whipping around in the cold breeze, I turn and look back toward the house. From here, I can see directly into my office. The house sits slightly higher than the shoreline, but my office windows are large and the room is brightly lit. My drafting table faces the door, so when I sit there, the light and the window are at my back.

Which means someone might have been standing here staring at me as I’ve worked for some time now, and I wouldn’t have known.

I look both ways down the shore. It’s empty. My only company are the seagulls wheeling overhead and the dark waves lapping restlessly at the shoreline.

Whoever he was, he’s long gone.

A glint from the ground near my shoes catches my eye. I lean down and pick a coin out of the mud. I wipe it off with my thumb, and my breath catches.

It’s a buffalo nickel.

Minted between 1913 and 1938, the coins can be worth anywhere from thirty-five cents to three million dollars, depending on the year and condition. This particular coin is stamped 1937. It’s a D type, which shows the buffalo with only three legs instead of the usual four, and is worth exactly $2,560.00.

I know that because Michael had it valued. It had been his grandfather’s. He carried it everywhere with him. He swore it brought him luck.

And I found it buried in the mud under a tree a stranger was spying on me from behind.

My heart beating faster, I curl the coin in my fist and hurry back to the house, trying to convince myself that cold tingle down my spine is only the wind.

A few hours later, Jake has finished installing the security system.

Aidan has still not returned.

Jake shows me how to use the system hub, which he mounted on the wall in my office next to the light switch inside the door. Then he installs the app on my iPhone so I can view the video feeds in real time, so in case someone rings the doorbell, I’ll be able to see who’s there without leaving the room. He also put a camera above the back door that captures a wide-angle view of the yard.

“How long has this been recording?” I ask, wondering if it caught the man by the tree on camera.

“About twenty minutes. It just went live. You’ve got enough memory in the system for a week’s worth of imaging, then it will record over itself and erase the old stuff so you’re not paying for extra data storage, which can get pricey.”

So there’s no recording of the yard at the time I saw the figure. I’m disappointed, but there’s nothing to do about it. At least from now on, I’ll be able to see if he pays me another visit, even when I’m not around.

Jake says, “I’ve mounted code entry boxes at the front and back doors, and inside the garage next to the laundry room door. If the system is accidentally tripped while the alarm is armed, you’ve got thirty seconds to disarm it with your code before it automatically notifies us. If you don’t make it in time, tell your password to the operator who calls, and they’ll cancel the alarm.”

His smile is rueful. “And try not to let that happen, because we charge a hundred bucks every time you accidentally set off the alarm.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, we’re mercenaries.”

“I thought you owned the company?”

“I do.”

“So when you say ‘we,’ you actually mean you.”

He laughs. “You sound like my wife.”

“I bet she’s a highly intelligent woman.”

Grinning, he shakes his head. “Now you sound even more like her.”

“Great minds think alike. Out of curiosity, is there a way to get a notification on my phone if the cameras catch movement?”

“Sure, the app does that if you want me to set it up like that for you. Some folks don’t like it because you’ll get pinged every time a squirrel crosses the lawn or a car drives past the house. Can get annoying.”

“Is there a size setting? Like so maybe it will miss a squirrel but capture a person?”

“No, but I can reduce the field to where the camera will still record everything, but it will only produce an event notice and ping your phone if someone say, walks within five feet of the door.”

This is all sounding a little more complicated than I’d hoped. I picture myself scrambling in panic for my phone every time it buzzes only to find a rodent scampering across the front porch.

“Let’s skip the notifications for now. I can always turn them on later, right?”

“Sure can. All I need from you now is for you to program your passcode into the hub. Then I’ll show you how to use the code box. Then we’re all finished.”

He walks me through the process of inputting my code and demonstrates how the system works, which doesn’t take long. Then he’s packing up and shaking my hand.

Walking him to the front door, I say, “I know I’m not supposed to mention the M word, but you have to let me do something for you, Jake. This was really above and beyond.”

“Don’t worry about it. If you keep what I said about Aidan between us, I’ll consider us even.”

I open the door and stand back to let him by. “I will. And thank you. Really. This means so much to me.”

He pauses to smile down at me. “Hope I see you again, Kayla. It’d be real nice if Aidan had a girl me and the wife could double date with. I know he feels like a third wheel sometimes.”

Surprised to hear that, I say, “Has it been a while since he’s been serious with someone?”

He chuckles in a way that makes me think there’s a long and involved story behind it.