Moriarty wasn’t his real name. It was Ivy’s idea to call him that because Tempest didn’t know his real name. She didn’t even know what he looked like. Not really. When she first met him, he dressed so ridiculously that it was all she or anyone else remembered about him. An easy idea to remember, but a difficult man to recognize.
Tempest left the car running but jumped out and pulled open his door. The man in the truck was the one she had expected to see but also nothing like the man she thought she knew. She guessed he was a little older than her, in his late twenties or early thirties, which was older than she’d initially thought. His short hair was a more vibrant brown than it had been the last time she’d seen him, with a more expensive cut that matched his tailored shirt.
“Touching, really,” he said calmly, “that in his naiveté Gideon thinks he has a chance with you.”
“What do you want, Moriarty?”
“I wish it was to show you what a proper date looks like—”
“You can’t be serious. You’re lucky I’m not calling the police to come and arrest you—”
“For my act of self-defense? That would be a nuisance I’d rather not face but hardly an insurmountable problem.”
“What. Do. You. Want?”
“I’m concerned. You’ve been even more tempestuous than usual lately.”
She tensed. “You’ve been watching me. How long?”
“In town, or here tonight?”
“Both.” She hadn’t noticed his presence, but she had a feeling she underestimated a lot of things about Moriarty.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you the former. As for the latter, I just got here. I was looking for you at Fiddler’s Folly, and when you weren’t there, I tried Veggie Magic and the theater before coming here.”
He knew Gideon’s address. Of course he did.
“Why were you looking for me?”
His face grew serious. “You need to leave this investigation alone, Tempest.” He held up a hand. “I’m completely aware I sound like I’m on a cop show. But you really have no idea what you’re up against.”
“Then why don’t you tell me?”
The look he gave her was one that frightened Tempest more than he ever had when she thought he was a physical threat. It was the most genuine expression she’d ever seen on his face. There was sadness, but also something else.
Fear.
“What are you afraid of?” she whispered. She’d never seen him frightened.
Her naming the emotion wiped it off his face. “I’m not afraid.” His voice stiffened. “But you should be. I’m telling you the truth. You need to believe me and let this go. She’s dangerous and can’t be trusted. It will only end badly.”
“I’m not doing anything unless you tell me why I should listen to you. She? Do you know where Paloma Rhodes is?”
He opened his mouth, but shut it before speaking. He did that once more before settling on what he wanted to say. “If you think about everything you know about me—I mean, really know to be true—you’ll know I’m only here to help you.”
He held her gaze, and she didn’t look away. His words were absolutely true, but how could she trust the words of someone who’d killed before? He said he had done it for her, but she’d never really know what happened that night.
“I’m leaving now,” she said.
“Please, Tempest. Please listen. You need to—”
Tempest stepped back into her jeep and slammed the door. It took her a few seconds to shake off the unnerving conversation before starting the engine. Moriarty didn’t get out of his car and approach her. Instead, he shook his head and drove off first.
Since the street was a cul-de-sac, he had to turn around at the end to get out. As he passed her, he slowed and met her gaze for only a second. But in that brief moment, there was nothing glib or superior in his expression. Instead, only a sincere look of helplessness. The vulnerable expression unnerved her and stayed with her after he disappeared from sight. After a few deep breaths, she drove back to Gideon’s street.
Gideon was standing on his front porch, holding a mallet and scowling at the road. “I heard tires screech, but I couldn’t tell which direction the sound came from.”
“So you were going to go all Thor on whoever was after me?”
He smiled sheepishly and spun the mallet. “Glad you’re fine.”
“You were going to run after me?” Tempest took the mallet from his hands. It really was quite heavy. “I’d rather you get a cell phone.”
“I could have called for help from my landline. You going to tell me what’s going on?”
“You probably don’t want to know.”
“Which is why you have to tell me.”
Tempest hesitated. She trusted Gideon, and she also cared about him. Ivy knew about Moriarty, so why was it so difficult to explain the morally questionable man to Gideon? She knew the answer, of course. Moriarty was a fugitive. She should have called the police as soon as she’d seen him.
“At least tell me who that guy was,” Gideon prompted when she didn’t answer. He sat down on the top step of his porch and motioned for her to join him.
“I would, but I have no idea.” She sat down beside Gideon as he opened his mouth to protest, but Tempest continued, “I’m serious. I don’t know his real name, but I call him Moriarty.”
“As in Sherlock Holmes’s nemesis?”
“Ivy, with her love of classic mysteries, picked the name Moriarty so we’d have something memorable to call him. He’s been an enthusiastic fan of mine for a long time, and he keeps tabs on me.”
Gideon’s face grew dark as she spoke. “That’s the literal definition of a stalker, Tempest. You need to call the police.”
“Not happening.”
He looked as if he was going to protest, but instead said, “I should at least see you home.”
“I have a killer kick and a three-thousand-pound car. I don’t need a knight in shining armor.”
“He’s just a stone carver with a heart of gold,” called the same voice who’d interrupted them before. A scrawny kid with dark skin and burgundy hair appeared a moment later and joined them on the sidewalk.
“Reggie.” Gideon sighed. “This is Tempest.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Reggie said in a far more formal voice, and he shook her hand as if he was at a job interview.
“I’d say the same,” said Tempest, “except you have some serious boundary issues.”
Reggie grinned. “So I’ve been told.” He dropped the smile. “I was just coming out here to tell you that I saw the creeper who followed your lady, Gid. He was around here almost as long as you two. I got a good look at him in case you need a witness who can give his physical description.”
“The guy in the pickup truck that just drove away?” asked Tempest. That meant Moriarty had lied to her about how long he’d been there. Which didn’t surprise her, but why lie about that?
“I don’t get all up in everyone’s business, but I couldn’t help noticing him when he got here. I didn’t recognize him. I figured he was here to visit Nida.” Reggie indicated the house on the other side of Gideon’s with a tilt of his head. “He arrived right after Tempest. What kind of name is Tempest anyway? You named after Shakespeare?”
“Sort of.” She held up her charm bracelet so he could see the book charm with The Tempest written on the cover. “But the real reason is that I was born during a big storm.” She didn’t add that it was the name of an illusion her mom and aunt had created with Nicodemus. That was far too much information to share with a nosy teenager.
“Nice.” Reggie inspected the silver bracelet. “Reginald means king. Suits me, yeah?”
“Um, I hate to break up you two becoming besties.” Gideon looked as if he were about to lose his mind.
“Back to the guy who followed me and went to the house next door,” said Tempest.
“Yeah,” said Reggie. “He pulled up right after you and then went over there. But I don’t think Nida’s home. I didn’t go over there or anything. Like I said, I’m not in everyone’s business. I go to school, and I have an after-school job selling cell phones. Minding my own business, saving for my future. You need a phone upgrade?” He turned to Gideon when she shook her head. “I’m sure he was following your lady. He was here the whole time she was. That dude, he’s bad news.”
He certainly was. But why was Moriarty back now?