Someone knocks on her door, and my spine stiffens because something about this trial today is putting me on edge. “Who is it?”
“Sheriff Malec.”
Liv rolls her eyes as I go to unlock the door. “Jackson, you don’t have to use your formal title with me,” she says.
“Sorry, seems weird announcing my first name at your office.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I was going to update you on some stalker stuff, but I can wait until after the trial.”
“No, it’s okay,” she says too quickly, and Jackson looks at me questioningly.
“Tell us.”
He hands Liv a paper. “Landon Arkett lives in Oregon. There is nothing that shows me that he’s been out of that state in years. Unless he’s traveling across the country by car and only using cash, I don’t think he’s been here.”
“Really?” I ask skeptically.
“Yeah. I even called his current employer. I didn’t let themknow why I was calling, but they were happy to offer up that he hasn’t missed a day of work.”
“So he isn’t my stalker?” Liv breathes in relief.
“No, I don’t think it’s possible.”
“Mr. Arkett isn’t my stalker,” she mumbles in disbelief this time, plopping down in her seat. That still means that someone else is.
My eyes flash to Jackson. “Then who the fuck is it?”
“Unfortunately, it seems like someone who knows more about your life than you’d like, Liv. I looked into Miley’s boyfriend, Landon Smith. It’s a false name, and the number she gave is now disconnected. When I asked her about it, she started crying. Apparently, he broke up with her after he found out about my interview. I think this guy created a false identity to plant himself near you. ”
I scrub a hand over my face, trying to rein in my frustration.
“I didn’t want to tell you this before the trial, but I don’t want you looking over your shoulder for Arkett when your stalker is still out there and unidentified.”
“No, I understand. Thank you.”
“We’re all in your corner, Liv. Good luck today.”
“Thanks, Jackson.” She waves as he leaves her office, but her eyes find mine.
“Are you okay?” We both ask at the exact same time.
I huff a laugh and sit down on the stiff couch to keep myself from pacing. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
She tilts her head as she looks at me from her desk. Too far away.
“Come here.” I watch her closely as she walks across the room, stepping between my legs. I pull her in close because I don’t care who walks through that door next. I need her inmy arms.
“Talk to me, don’t keep it bottled up,” she says softly, stroking her fingers through my hair.
“I’m fucking worried about you, Liv. Every damn minute, I worry about you.”
“I know. I’m worried, too. I’m so tired of feeling ten steps behind this guy. I’m scared that…” She trails off, but her frown deepens. She opens her mouth but closes it again.
“Liv,” I press, not wanting her to hide anything.
“I’m afraid that you won’t handle bad news well,” she whispers, and I let my head fall against the back of the sofa.
