Sara, for a brief moment, looked like a deer caught in headlights, but quickly recovered to say, “No, my name is Serayah. You must be from Heartline.”
Clearing my throat, I said, “Yeah…sorry. I must’ve thought…” but I didn’t finish the sentence. “Hi, Ms. Flores. My name is King Wilder, and this is Mack Hawthorne and Chase Corbett. We’ll be your security detail for as long as you need us. I’m the lead security officer on your detail, so here’s my card if you need anything while we’re providing security for you.”
She took the card, tried to hide a smirk, and said, “Thank you, King.”
I tried to hide my own smile, and said, “Of course,” thinking to myself,Well done. Sara sounds so close to Serayah. I couldn’t believe I was standing in front of her again. I could see her even better in the bright light of her apartment. She was as beautiful as ever.
“Nice to meet you guys. I’ve already reported everything to the police. I just need security until this stalker is caught and behind bars.” She stood to the side and gestured for us to come in. “Please, come in. Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Coffee?”
I said, “No, ma’am. Thank you, though. I’d like to talk more about the case in a bit, but for the time being, do you mind if we walk around and familiarize ourselves with the apartment layout?”
“Not at all, that’s a good idea.” She led the way. Her apartment was big with an open layout. The front door opened to a large living room, with the kitchen on the far left and the dining room on the far right. Closer to us and off to the left side, a short hallway led to the bedroom, bathroom, and laundry room. I drew a rough sketch of it in my notebook as she showed us around, making sure to note all the doors and windows. I would add the sketch to her file and the security plan, later.
After some small talk, she showed us the rest of her apartment. In her bedroom, she had a queen bed and directly across from the bed was her dresser with a giant mirror attached. Meticulously placed trinkets covered the top of the dresser. There was one window, and it went from the ceiling almost to the floor. There was enough room under it so that she could put a little bench if she wanted. I thought,That might be funand remembered our night at Velvet Arrow.Another smile started to appear on my face before I wiped it away.
As we walked back out to the living room, she stopped me, placing her hand on my arm and whispered, “This is a bad idea.”
I glanced down at her, then at her hand on my arm. Mack and Chase had already migrated to the hall and out towards the kitchen in conversation. I whispered back, sternly, “It’s myjob, Ms. Flores. Gimme a minute.” Her hand dropped from my arm swiftly before she nodded and then walked to the kitchen without saying a word.
Maybe I was a little more adamant than I should’ve been, and a small part of me felt bad about it, but it was business, and I had a job to do. Too many eyes were on me. I said to the guys, “Mack and Chase, I’m going to sit and talk with Ms. Flores for a bit about what happened and how to move forward. I need you guys to go downstairs and keep an eye out for anyone snooping around the lobby or our vehicle. Someone could be watching us right now to see what we’re up to. If you see something, say something. Just holler at me on the radio.”
Chase said, “ten-four,” as they went downstairs.
When the door closed, I turned around and saw Serayah staring at me. “Your name is Serayah?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“You lied.”
Serayah rolled her eyes at me and folded her arms across her chest. “You were a stranger, and we said we would never see each other again. I wasn’t going to tellyoumyname. I didn’t evenknowyou.”
“Fair enough. Back to business. Listen, I’m assigned to your case and Iwillprotect you, no matter what. What happened that night in the club, let’s just forget it. It won’t affect my ability to carry out my job. Sound good?”
Serayah looked at the floor and then back up at me and said, “I haven’t decided yet.”
“All right, well do you at least want to tell me what happened?”
She handed me an envelope. “I received this note from someone who was apparently in my apartment. And of course, these photos of me.”
I read the note, thumbed through the photos, and said, “Yeah, this is a problem. I can see why you’re concerned. Your file says you’re an author. What kind of books do you write?”
She looked a little embarrassed. “Stalker romances, mostly.”
“Are you serious?” I asked.
Seraya huffed, “Yes, I’m serious.”
I instantly regretted offering, “You may want to consider a change of genre.”
Her glare cut through me like a laser. “Don’t do that.”
“Sorry.” I was being an ass, but I was desperately trying to keep the lead on the case. I changed the subject. “Is there anyone you think might have done this?”
“No.”
I moved on, “We’ll be parked downstairs and posted around the building, keeping watch while I draft a security plan and organize shifts. If you need anything, you have my card.”
“Okay,” was the only response I got from her. I couldn’t tell if she was angry, hurt, or annoyed, but guessed it was all three.
