Tiffany nodded. “I left Minnesota five years ago and came here because I love the water and thought the quiet country roads would be great for running. I’m a freelance graphic designer, so I could go almost anywhere. But this place was beautiful, and I thought it was quiet and small enough that I could get away from him.”
“He found you, though?” Mart’s voice was very quiet.
“He did. He found my website, posed as a potential client, and said he wanted to send a check for his deposit on a new logo design.” She ran her finger on the rim of her glass and then slipped a few grains of salt into her mouth. “I had been so careful, and one slip . . .”
Mom grabbed Tiffany’s hand. “No, do not go there. This wasn’t your slip. This was a man stalking you. You did nothing wrong. Nothing.”
Tears well
