"You can keep me safe better than I could keep myself; that's why I lost myself in you."
So Nu

As my dad stands there with an envelope addressed to me, he moves into detective mode. He even reaches for a sidearm that's not there and looks around for any clues. I watch as my dad takes in every detail of his surroundings.

He looks down at the dirt road that begins my dad's lane to the farmhouse. "Fresh tire tracks," he mumbles to himself.

He looks up at me. "Cindy, go get several of my large red feed buckets and bring them back here. I want to preserve these tracks to get cast."

I nod before turning and running towards his large shed, where he keeps his supplies. Once there, I quickly find the buckets. I grab four of them and rush back to my dad.

I hand him the buckets, and he places them around the tire tracks. I saw that he had opened the note.

Trying to catch my breath, I ask, "What does it say?"

He hands it to me. I open it and read the threat.

You will regret ignoring my warning.

I'm puzzled. "They must have followed me here. I thought that I was careful. I paid close attention to every car around me. I didn't see one car that stayed on my tail."

Dad carefully moves away from the tracks and steps towards me. "I think that I know how they did this without revealing themselves. Come on. We need to get back to your car."

As soon as he mentioned my car, I knew what he was thinking. He believes that someone put a GPS tracker on my vehicle.

Once we get to where my car is parked, my dad and I get on our hands and knees, inspecting underneath it.

"Bingo!" Dad stands up at the back bumper, holding up the tracking device. He grins proudly at his discovery.

"Come, let's get you inside. I don't feel safe out here in the open."

He takes my hand and drags me inside.

"Damn, Dad," I complain.

Dad apologetically smiles and releases my hand. "I'm sorry, Dee. I'll try not to be too overbearing. I need to protect you. That's what Fathers do. Okay?"

"Okay," I reply weakly.

"I'm going to call Frank."

My dad and Frank worked at the same precinct for over fifteen years. Dad retired a year ago, and Frank has five years until he retires.

He grabs his phone and puts it on speaker. I listen as he talks to Frank. "Frank? Jerry Powell here. I need a favor."

"Hey, Jerry! What do you need?"

I love how the two of them don't waste time with pleasantries. They get right down to business.

"My daughter has a stalker."

"Little Dee?"

"Yes. Dee is investigating an unsolved murder and has received two threatening notes. One at Detective Sam' Kidwell's home and one delivered in my mailbox today right after she arrived."

"Tell me what I can do." Frank's cheery demeanor turns serious.

"There are fresh tire tracks. I blocked them off, but I need to cast them and don't have the supplies. I would also like to dust my mailbox and note for fingerprints and have you run them through IAFIS." (Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification)

"I'm on my way."

As soon as my dad hangs up with Frank, he heads for the front door. I follow him. He stops, and I run into the back of him.

"Stay here and lock the door behind me," he demands.

"What? Where are you going?"

"I'm going back to take photos of the tracks. Please stay here. I don't want you out in the open," Dad explains.

"Fine." I huff like a spoiled child. "I'll call Sam."

"Good idea, I won't be too long." He gets his pistol and house keys out of the desk drawer and then leaves me to take pictures.

I lock the door behind him and then go to the kitchen, where I left my phone on the table. For a moment, I hesitate. I hate to disturb Sam while on the job, but I know he would be upset if I didn't call. I press his contact and wait for him or his voicemail to answer.

I get his voicemail. "Hi, Sam. I need to talk to you, but not over voicemail. Please call as soon as you are able. I love you. Bye."

I put my phone back on the table and got a beer out of the fridge. I sit down, feeling useless. The average person would stop investigating. This person has no clue that I'm not the average person. His threats don't intimidate me. If anything, it drives me more.

I jump when my phone rings. "Sam, sorry to bother you at work."

"You're never a bother. What's up, Babe? Is everything okay?"

"Well, I wanted to let you know that I received another threatening note here at my dad's," I explain.

"What? When?"

I can hear the tension in his voice. "Calm down, Sam. Dad and I walked to get his mail and found the note inside his box."

Sam is trying to stay composed. "What did it say?"

"You will regret ignoring my warning."

"This shit's getting serious, Cindy. Did you see anyone following you? Were you careful?" His emotions are escalating.

"Sam, I was careful, and nobody was following me. Dad found a GPS tracker under my back bumper."

"Fuck! I never checked your car for a tracker!" I hear a car door slam and an engine start.

"Sam, this is not on you."

"I'm on my way."

"Sam, that's not necessary. Dad is here being Captain Protective. Finish your work, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Not happening, Cindy. I'll be there in less than an hour. I shouldn't have left you in the first place."

I know when Sam has decided something, nothing will change his mind.

"Okay, Sam. Dad has a detective friend on his way, too. There are fresh tire tracks by Dad's mailbox. They'll cast the tracks, dust the mailbox, and note for fingerprints. Dad's there now taking photos, and before you say anything, he made me lock myself in the house."

Sam takes a deep breath. "Good. Stay put; I'll be there soon."

I sigh, "I promise to behave."

"Thank you. I love you."

I smile. "I love you too, Sam."

I hear a siren as Sam hangs up. Really? He's using his siren and, most likely, his flashing lights to get here faster. That man!

I hear the front door unlock. I jump up out of my seat, grab the metal teapot from the stove, and hide behind the wall that separates the kitchen from the living room.

"Dee?" I hear my dad call me.

I let go of the breath that I was holding and returned my teapot weapon to the stove.

"In here, Dad."

"Did you call Sam?" Dad asks as I hand him a beer from the fridge.

We sit down together at the table. "I did. Sam's on his way here. Frank and he should arrive around the same time."

"You have got yourself a good man, Dee."

"I know that I do, Dad. He's incredible."

"I like that he puts you first."

I grin. "Me, too."

I decide to make dinner for everyone coming to my rescue tonight. I hoped Dad had the ingredients for my mother's lasagna, and he did. My Dad and I work together to create my mother's masterpiece. We pop it in the oven and set the timer.

Half an hour later, we heard a car coming down the lane. I look out of the window and see Sam's car. Without thinking, I run outside to meet him. My dad follows close behind me.

Sam exits his car and runs to me without closing the door. "Cindy!"

He takes me into his arms and hugs me tightly.

"Babe, we just saw each other this morning."

Sam kisses me. "I know; I hate that I wasn't here for you."

I lean back and look at him. "Sam."

"I can't help it, Cindy." His eyes scan mine. "We need to bring this asshole to justice because whoever murdered John Doe wants to deter you. That tells me that you hit a nerve. We need to go back through your findings and figure out what got this unsub's attention."

I love this man so damn much. He doesn't try to discourage me from continuing my investigation; he encourages it. I know that he has invested a lot of time investigating this murder himself, and it means a lot to me that he's willing to let me assist him despite his fears of the threatening notes.

Another vehicle comes down the lane. Sam instinctively places his body between me and the oncoming car.

My dad must have noticed. "That is my friend Detective Frank Harris."

Frank pulls up behind Sam's car. The burly older man with dark hair streaked with gray and an unruly beard exits his vehicle. He looks mean and intimidating, but as soon as Frank smiles, his toughness fades away.

"Hi, Frank." I walk over and greet him with a hug.

"Hey, Little Dee." He squeezes me tightly. "What have you gotten yourself into now?" He releases me.

I shrug innocently. "Me? Nothing," I lie, then change the subject. "Frank, this is my boyfriend, Sam."

I feel very uncomfortable that these remarkable men are here because of my drama.

"Hey, Sam," Frank reaches out to Sam, and they shake. "I know Sam, Dee. We work in the same police department."

A shot rang out, and before I knew it, Sam tackled me to the ground. I could hardly breathe as he knocked the wind out of me. With the weight of Sam's body crushing me, I struggled to take a breath. When I did, it was full of dust and dirt from the ground, where Sam slammed my face.

"Sam? Dad? Frank?" I screamed, unable to move.

Silence.