It was time for her big-girl panties.
Ashley dumped her folder and laptop on the desktop and got to work. Robert was excellent at his job, and each letter had suggestions for action. Some she agreed with while others, she let her opinion govern her final decision. Her rule about touching each piece of correspondence once helped her to plow through a pile of work. Next, she scanned the letters ready for her signature. Even though she trusted the staff, she always read each reply before adding her name.
The final one gave her pause, as did the original letter attached to the one Robert had drafted.
Dear Ashley, do you remember me from school?She scanned the request, her throat tight and a heavy weight pressing on her chest. Although a woman—someone called Felicity Barrowman—had signed the letter, the penmanship brought to mind her brother’s masculine scrawl. Every instinct, jogged by the similarity in the writing, told her the writer was a man, and he was making his next move.
This man was her stalker.
* * * * *
“Frog, I got your email. What’s up?”
It was early evening in Eketahuna, and Josh Williams lay in a hammock in his parents’ rear garden, having a beer and relaxing after a day of farm chores. Two weeks ago, he’d left his New Zealand Special Air Service military duties and the army for good, and now he was at a loose end with no clue of what came next. He was spending his days helping his older brother Dillon and taking care of his father’s farm while his parents took the vacation his mother had dreamed about for years. They arrived home tomorrow, and it was time for him to find his adult boots and determine his next life chapter.
“I need a favor.” Frog’s face wavered on the screen from interference. Expected, given his friend was calling from Afghanistan.
“No problem.” Josh never hesitated. Matt Townsend was affectionately known as Frog because of his love of karaoke. He sang as often as possible but badly, hence the nickname. Frog was a fellow soldier and a member of the NZSAS team that both Josh and his brother Dillon had belonged to before taking retirement.
“My sister needs help.” Frog’s face etched into worry.
Josh sipped his beer and frowned, pulling one of Frog’s family photos to mind. “Which one?”
“Ash, the youngest one.”
“The politician?” He dug through his memories again and recalled a blurred photo of a woman wearing a cap and gown at a university graduation.
“Yeah. Ashley has acquired a stalker. She’s reported the problem to the police, but they can’t do much. It’s bloody frustrating being stuck in Afghanistan and unavailable to help. This stalker has scared her, and Ash normally owns confidence.”
“How can I help?” Josh asked.
“I need you to take charge of her security.”
Josh blinked but agreed. “Sure, I can do that. Where is she? Christchurch? Mum and Dad arrive home tomorrow so I can catch a flight the day after.”
“Wait. Damn,” Frog muttered after a background shout. “I have to go. I need you to pretend to be her fiancé.”
“Fiancé?” Josh spluttered.
“Yeah, but Josh, do not under any circumstances fuck with her. She’s my baby sister, and you keep your hands off. Promise?”
“Wait, what?” His hearing was off. “You did say her fiancé?”
“Yeah, I’ll email later with more details. It needs to be a convincing performance, otherwise you won’t be able to stay close to Ash. Hands off my baby sister or Iwilltake action. Got it? Will you do it? Watch over her?”
“Wait! You’re certain you want me?”
“I don’t trust anyone else. Hands off, remember?”
“Details,” Josh prompted.
“As soon as we get back,” Frog promised. “Maybe two hours.”
“Frog!” someone roared in the background.
“Gotta go,” Frog said. “Remember your promise, or I’ll bloody your pretty face the first chance I get. I’ll check in again soon.”
“Yeah, man. Stay safe.”
