Caleb slowly lifted his hand into the air. “That would have been me. My only defense is that I’m a professional snoop and couldn’t help myself.”
Natalie took Caleb’s admission of guilt better than Gabe would have done.
“Don’t believe everything you read,” she said softly.
Gabe had been trying to tell them the same thing, but no one was listening to him.
“I didn’t purposefully look for what you earn,” Caleb added. “The sale price of some of your paintings appeared on one of my searches.”
Natalie shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. But in case you’re wondering, I’m not a billionaire.”
Caleb seemed relieved. “In that case, I’ll buy you a coffee next time we’re in town. Now, what about the stalker?”
Gabe pointed to the spreadsheet. “I’ll be the first to admit there are similarities between my first novel and the stalker’s movements. But that doesn’t mean he’ll keep following the rest of the story.”
“Check out these stats.” Caleb turned his laptop around. “The predictability algorithm is off the charts. From when your agent received the first message, the stalker’s actions have mimicked your book almost exactly.”
Relying on an algorithm to anticipate someone’s behavior didn’t sit well with Gabe. Especially when they were comparing a fictional character, living in a make-believe world, to a real person who should be locked away.
“Zac Connelly never broke into someone’s home.”
“But he did travel across three states to find the person responsible for the woman’s death,” Caleb said.
“And look at this.” Natalie pointed to the entry that was the closest match to the date of the break-in. “Jericho Walton, aka your novel’s bad guy, broke into an associate’s apartment to steal thousands of dollars. I don’t have that kind of money lying around, but the principle is the same.”
Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose. “IfNatalie stays in the cottage, and that’s a big if, how will she look after herself?” He directed his question to Caleb, but Natalie was having none of it.
“Hello.I’m sitting beside you.” She sent a pleading look in Caleb’s direction. “Someone with immense technical know-how and muscle could stay with me. Between my self-defense moves and his brawn, we’ve got all contingencies covered.”
“Except for one crucial fact,” Caleb said half-apologetically. “We’re dealing with someone who is mentally unstable. If I stay with you and something happens, I’d never forgive myself. Gabe’s right. You shouldn’t stay here on your own. Your mom would be the first person to agree with us.”
At the mention of her mom, Natalie’s shoulders sagged forward. She sat silently in the chair, staring at the spreadsheet. “Okay. I’ll stay with you for a few days, but that’s all. Do you have somewhere I can paint?”
“My mezzanine floor will be perfect.” Caleb sent her a reassuring smile. “You made the right decision.”
Moving to Caleb’s home solved one problem, but it didn’t remove their biggest hurdle. “When do we leave?”
Caleb closed his laptop. “My house is ready whenever you are.”
Gabe stared at Natalie.
“A local television station already knows about the burglary,” Caleb said. “We should move fairly quickly. What about seven o’clock tomorrow morning?”
“What about now?” Gabe replied.
Natalie checked her watch. “It’s nearly eleven o’clock.”
“We’ll be at Caleb’s home before midnight.”
“What am I going to tell mom?” Natalie groaned.
Gabe thought that was obvious, but she knew her mom better than he did. “The truth?”
“I can’t wake her and say, ‘Mom, a crazy stalker is recreating the scenes in Gabe’s books and we think he broke into the cottage.’ She won’t go back to Indiana without me.”
At the risk of being raked over hot coals, Gabe said, “That’s not a bad idea.”
Natalie’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not leaving Sapphire Bay.”
