After ending the call, he pulled out his tactical knife, his movements deliberate and controlled despite the rage building in his chest. When the box fell open, photographs scattered across the gravel. His jaw clenched as he examined the contents, fury building with each image. Publicity shots of teenage Willow as Rose, candid photos, and worse, recent photographs from their Los Angeles trip. Someone had been close enough to document the two of them walking into a restaurant, Christopher’s building, and even the morning as they left their hotel for coffee with Carlos and then lunch with Doug and Becky.
He pulled out his phone and sent the video evidence to LSIMT. Then he gathered everything back into the box, his mind already working through implications and next steps as he returned to the car.
"What was it?" Willow asked, and he could hear the dread in her voice.
"Pictures of you from when you played Rose." His voice came out rougher than intended, the controlled anger making his words harsh. "But also recent photos from our LA trip. Someone was watching us, taking pictures the entire time."
He watched the color drain from her face. "Pictures of us together?"
"Yeah. And a note." He pulled out the piece of paper, his hands steady despite the fury coursing through him. "It says it’s a quote fromThe Little Prince.'It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.'Then underneath, he wrote that he's tired of waiting for his Rose."
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. This wasn't a random obsession anymore. This was possession. Ownership. The kind of escalation that ended in violence.
"They’re still escalating," Willow whispered, confirming his fears.
"Yeah, they are." Casper reached for her hand, needing the physical connection as much as wanting to comfort her. "But now we know we're dealing with someone who sees you as 'their' Rose. Someone who's been patient but is running out of time."
“It sounds like a longtime obsession.”
“Yes, but it also makes it less likely that it’s a recent fan. Probably not someone who just discovered you recently, given the old show is now streaming. And it seems they see me as competition.”
"Competition," she repeated, her voice pained.
"Which means it’s likely they’ll make a move soon." Casper met her eyes, letting her see the determination that had gotten him through the worst situations of his military career. "But we'll be ready for them. The team is already running analysis on everything we've collected, and now we have proof he was in Los Angeles. And proof that he was here. That narrows down our suspect list considerably."
As they drove down the gravel driveway to her house, Casper's mind was already shifting into tactical mode. The stalker had made a critical error by revealing the depth of his obsession and his willingness to escalate. But he'd also made it personal by threatening what Casper had found with Willow.
The protective instincts that had always driven him were now backed by something much more dangerous. He was a man defending the woman he cared about. The stalker might see him as competition, but Casper knew the truth. He wasn't a competitor.
He was the obstacle that would end this permanently.
26
Once inside her house, Willow stood in her living room feeling simultaneously furious and terrified while Casper moved through each room with methodical precision. She watched him check windows, test locks, and examine every possible entry point with the kind of systematic thoroughness that spoke to years of military training.
The anger burning in her chest was almost as intense as the fear. Someone continued to violate her sanctuary, turning her peaceful Nebraska refuge into something that felt unsafe and exposed. But underneath her own rage, she could sense something far more dangerous radiating from Casper. There was a cold, controlled fury that made the air around him seem to vibrate with barely restrained violence.
He was so quiet as he worked, his movements precise, but she could see the tension in every line of his body. His jaw was clenched so tightly she worried he might crack his teeth, and his hands had formed into fists that looked capable of doing serious damage to whoever had dared to threaten her.
She wasn't afraid of him, but she could see the same protective rage that had driven him to break his stepfather's nose and the same fierce instinct that had made him threatenhis sister's harasser. If Casper got his hands on whoever was tormenting her, she suspected he might follow through on the kind of permanent solution he'd once promised.
When he finished his security sweep, he pulled out his phone and called LSIMT, putting the call on speaker so she could hear the conversation.
“What’s the status?” Todd asked.
“We’re inside, and I’ve checked the house and system. No tampering. No evidence of entry. And no sign of someone breaching the perimeter.”
“We want you to scan the photographs and notes for us to analyze,” Sadie instructed.
"Got it. I need a psychological profile on who we're dealing with here," he requested.
"Already started on the evidence collected before, " Sadie replied. “Is Willow with you?”
“Yes.”
“Logan wants her on speaker so she can answer questions for clarification if needed.”
“Already on.” Casper turned to Willow, patting the chair next to him. She slid into the seat, glad for his hand resting on her leg.
