Bab 80: Grocery Store

"Son of a bitch."

My whisper is like a bomb in the ensuing silence. Penelope leans over to read the text, frowning.

"I don't get it. What's food poisoning?"

"Mike." Turning off my phone, I toss it across the coffee table with a shudder, as if the device is somehow tainted by whoever's messaging me. "I drove him home the other night. The same night the panther shifter appeared to warn me to be careful."

"Right. That guy. McHandsy."

My lips twitch, amused despite my anxiety. "Yes. McHandsy."

"So, what happened?"

"Didn't show up to work. Turned out he had food poisoning." I motion toward my phone. "Maybe it's not food poisoning."

"Or maybe it is."

I shrug.

"If it really was food poisoning, it's like they're trying to tell you they're watching you, even at work."

"Yep." Popping the last sound, I rub at my temple. "Or it's not food poisoning, and they're telling me they can get to anyone around me."