Before she has a chance to pull me back, I race out of the room. I’m out the door, scanning in all directions. She was here a second ago. I spin on my heel and almost run smack into her. “Hey!” I call out and quickly relax as I lean in for a hug and drop a kiss on her cheek. I’ll never tire of doing that. “Glad you made it.”
“Sorry, I’m late.” Her lashes flutter as she struggles to meet my gaze, and it’s all over her pale face that something isn’t right.
I drop my hand to her hip. “What’s going on?”
Her lips pinch together and her gaze angles away, and for the slightest of moments, I think she’s mad about Kasey. Kacy. Whatever her name is, and I blurt out, “That lady I was sitting with is someone Bill invited. I don’t even know her name.”
She glances behind me as if searching for someone. “I didn’t notice anything.” Her face doesn’t even bend toward the room as she finally directs her gaze at me, and whispers, “Maybe I’m overreacting, but I think I have a stalker.”
My brows pull up, as that’s the last thing I expect to hear. “Why do you think so?”
“Do you remember when I lost my camera, and then when I got it returned, the memory card was missing?”
My ears hyper-attune as alarms go in my head. “Yes.”
“When I got in my car earlier, there was a small packet on the windshield. At first, I thought it was a parking ticket, but it was my photos.” She holds up her index finger. “Not the memory card like they wanted to return it to me. Instead, just a few of them printed out and no note.”
“Well, that’s a good thing if someone found your photos, right?” I gesture forward. “I mean, you already turned in your article, but it’s nice to have them back.”
“Look.” She inhales a deep breath, and her shoulders fall on her exhale. When she looks back at me, her fiery eyes are potent. “I’ll be honest. I had a variety of photos on that camera, and the prints they left on my car were some of the worst ones. Ones I’d never want anyone to see. It feels like blackmail.”
That’s sketch.
My mind rolls through all the possible images she can have, but it seems silly, and I’m confused. “What do you mean ‘blackmail’?”
“Nothing really bad, like inappropriate photos.” Her cheeks flame red. “I took photos through all the games. Since you guys lost a lot, most of the photos weren’t painting you guys in the best light. So, it almost feels like they are trying to . . . I don’t even know the right word, but it doesn’t feel helpful. Why not just give me my memory card? Plus, when I was leaving, I swore a car followed me, and now I’m scared to be alone.”
Anger bubbles in my gut as it doesn’t sound like a coincidence. At some point she must have made an enemy. Nobody would do this unless they were trying to mess with her. “Do you know anyone in Mapleton that you upset?”
“Not really, but it would need to have been someone at the gala, or there shortly after, to get my camera.” She stares off in the distance as she jabs the end of her thumbnail between her teeth.
I don’t usually get alarmed by much, but a spiral of goosebumps snakes up my spine, irritating my nerves. I don’t want her to go anywhere alone. I actually don’t want her here at all, and I blurt out, “I know you have to get back to New York, but I don’t want you leaving tonight. Someone might be following you.”
Her eyes swell even rounder. “I wasn’t going to leave until morning, because it’s a five-hour drive.”
“I think you should stay at my house.” Someone might be listening to us. I scan the hall, finding it still empty, but I drop my voice anyway. “If they know where you work, you can bet they know where you’ve been staying.”
She stares past me, as if studying something down the hall. “Maybe just for this one night. Just to be safe.”
I take her hand in mine and slide a foot toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
While jerking her thumb back over her shoulder, a look of remorse flashes on her face. “What about the banquet?”
“It’s fine.” I don’t look back. “I’m not missing anything. It’s just a bunch of people in expensive clothes.” I don’t tell her that my gut is uneasy for her, and that it’s crawling up my throat.
I’m an absolute idiot for not refilling my meds.
Why was I thinking that I would be fine?
I’ve been busy, but it’s not an excuse.
I swallow, forcing all my anxiety down, yet again. All I want to do is get her somewhere safe, where I know we aren’t being watched. Maybe I’ve watched too many thriller movies, but everything about this screams stalker.
I usher her out the door, mapping a route to my house that’s different than my usual one in case anyone is following us. All these horrid thoughts jumble in my head, and my heart putters fast, sounding alarms.
With the exception of the security lights above the garage and the single light shining out from under the front door, my house is dark when I pull into the garage. “Home sweet home.”
Paisley’s unnatural pale hand finds her door handle, and she gets out. My heart drums against my chest, and my gaze scans all around the massive eight-stall garage, as I search for anything out of the ordinary. “Ah, this way.” I gesture toward the door while I wait for her, and then wrap an arm around her waist as soon as she meets up with me.
