I blink a few times, trying to clear my blurred vision.
"Hart, look at me."
Hart.
Look at him.
I take a shaky breath as my eyes meet his. There is not an ounce of panic in his gaze, just calm authority. I bite my tongue to stop the next sob escaping, and just hold his eyes, not wanting for a second to look away, because he's grounding me and I'm afraid I'll lose it all over again.
"Take a few deep breaths. Breathe in as deep as you can, hold a few seconds, and let it out."
I do as he says, inhaling deeply, holding the breath in my lungs for a few seconds, and then letting it out. I do this a few times, until the sob stuck in my throat disappears and my tears stop flowing pathetically down my cheeks. Only then does Ace straighten up, grab another stool, and sit back down in front of me.
"Now, tell me what happened," he orders, probably in the kindest voice I've ever heard him use, even though it's still gruff and a little scary.
"Well." I take another deep breath. "I woke up this morning, and when I walked into the kitchen, there was a cup of already made coffee on my counter. It was still hot, too. And I know it wasn't just dropped off by Taylor or Jacob, because the cup was a gift from my husband. He used to leave me coffee in it every morning, with this note."
I hand Ace the note that's still scrunched in my hand.
He glances down at it. "This your husband's handwriting?"
"Yes, I had a few of those notes saved. He used to write the same one every morning."
///
Ace nods, looking back up at me. "All of the things happening, they're all in relation to your husband, and nothing else, am I correct?"
I nod, swallowing.
"Right," he murmurs, humming for a second, before standing. "I'm still waiting on those locks. They're supposed to arrive later today or at the very latest, tomorrow morning. I'll put them on, but I am still looking into things. I spoke to security-nothing out of the ordinary, but the security on this place is hardly something to cheer about."
I chew my cheek, trying to stop the fear from taking over again.
"Anyone who lives in the area that you know, be it a family member, friend, acquaintance, I want their full names. Anyone in the area your husband used to know, including any old girlfriends you may know about, I want their full names. Anyone you have had any interaction with in the last few months, I want as many details as you can provide me. Can you get me that list by this afternoon?"
I nod. "What do you think is happening?"
"There could be a few explanations and I have a few theories, but I think it's safe to say you're not doing this on your own, someone is doing it to you. What I want to know is who and why."
"Do you"-I swallow and take another deep breath-"do you think I'm in danger?"
He hesitates. "I don't honestly know at this stage. I need more information. So far, whoever is doing this hasn't hurt you or tried to hurt you at all. That's a good sign. However, figuring out why someone is choosing to leave reminders of your ex-husband lying around, obviously trying to freak you out, could be hard to figure out. It's not being done in secret, which means whoever it is wants you to know they're doing it."
That thought makes me want to vomit. I simply don't understand why anyone would want to do that to me, especially not so long after I lost my husband.
"I'll get a rush on these locks. The system has been down for the last few weeks but I've told them to get that fixed immediately or the landlord would be held responsible for anything that happened."
"W-W-What about my windows?" I ask, thinking of them all of a sudden. I mean, it's a possibility, right? Any entrance is access into my house.
He nods. "I'll be adding locks to those, too. If need be, I'll have the station get a watch put on the place, or we'll install an alarm system."
God. This is too much.
I press a hand to my chest and drop my head, staring at the ground and taking a few shaky breaths.
"We'll get to the bottom of this, Hartley," Ace says. "I'll make sure of it. Please trust that I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe."
Whatever he can.
Whatever. He. Can.
What if that's not enough?
* * *
"Seriously, it's creepy," Taylor mumbles, shoving her fork into a piece of curry chicken we just ordered from a local restaurant.
"I feel you." I sigh, poking my food with my fork, not sure I can actually eat any of it. My stomach has been twisting all day.
"You've given Ace your list. Did anyone raise a red flag?"