"This fits the classic profile of unrequited obsessive love," Sadie said after a moment. "Someone who's built an entire fantasy relationship around her character, who sees her as belonging to him, and who's becoming increasingly agitated by what he perceives as rejection or abandonment."
“You say ‘he.’ Is that just an easy pronoun usage, or do you think it’s a man?” she asked.
“The overwhelming majority of stalkers are men. Most sources estimate that 87 percent of identified stalkers are male. Consequently, women are significantly more likely to be victims of stalking than men. It’s estimated that around 78 percent ofstalking victims are women. Certainly, your stalker could be a woman. We’re not ruling out anything or anyone at this time.”
“You mentioned perceived rejection or abandonment. None of the people I know would have that idea. No one acts like they have an unrequited love for me," Willow said firmly, her voice carrying more conviction than she felt. "This has to be some deranged fan I've never met. Someone who's fixated on Rose, the character, rather than me."
"What about someone who hates you?" Sadie asked. "Sometimes obsession and hatred can look very similar in terms of behavior patterns."
Willow’s mouth dropped open, and she blinked as she looked at Casper. She considered the question carefully but shook her head. "I don't… I don’t know of anyone who hates me. I deliberately try to never make enemies, but I suppose there are a couple of people who might harbor resentment. My ex-boyfriend Max Sterling has been making legal threats about stolen ideas, and my former assistant Gloria Vasquez might still be angry about being fired."
"We're already running deep background checks on both of them," Casper said. "What have you found?"
There was the sound of typing, then Sadie's voice returned. "Max Sterling is still in New York, and our surveillance shows he hasn't traveled recently. His financial records indicate he's barely scraping by in a small apartment, working irregular freelance jobs. He has a new girlfriend who works at a restaurant near his place, and they seem to spend most of their time together."
"What about his legal threats against Willow?"
"His attorney is a bottom-tier ambulance chaser who probably demanded payment upfront because he knows the case has no merit. Max is likely getting taken for whatever money hemanaged to scrape together, but he doesn't have the resources for the kind of systematic stalking we're seeing here."
Willow felt a small measure of relief. She'd been worried that Max's anger might have driven him to more extreme measures.
"Gloria Vasquez is more interesting," Sadie continued. "She left Los Angeles a few months after her employment with Willow was terminated. She returned to her hometown in Texas. That puts her within driving distance of Nebraska."
"Any evidence of travel?" Casper asked, his voice sharpening with interest.
"No record of flights or rental cars in her name, but she could easily be using cash, driving herself, or have someone helping her. Her bank accounts show normal activity. Unemployment benefits, small purchases, nothing indicating significant expenditures for travel or surveillance equipment."
"But she'd know Willow's habits, her schedule, her vulnerabilities," Casper said grimly.
"Exactly. She had access to personal information for several years, including details about Willow's plans to leave LA. If she's working with someone else or using cash transactions, she could definitely be orchestrating this kind of campaign."
With her elbows on the table, Willow rested her head in her hands as the weight of possibilities settled heavily on her shoulders. "I trusted Gloria completely for three years. If she's behind this, if she's been planning revenge all this time..."
"We'll find out," Casper said, moving to sit beside her. His presence was immediately comforting, solid, and reassuring, in a way that made her feel less alone amid the mounting fear.
"We need to discuss security protocols for Willow's upcoming trip to Kansas City," Casper said, his voice taking on a tactical edge. "Whoever is sending these packages clearly feels threatened by my presence in her life. A public appearance could trigger him to make a more direct move."
"Agreed," Logan replied. "Public events are high-risk scenarios for this type of obsessive behavior. What kind of event are we dealing with?"
"It's a Screenwriters Association conference. I'm presenting the keynote speech on Friday at lunchtime and will present an award on Saturday evening," Willow said, suddenly wondering if she should decline the honor entirely. "The ceremony will probably have three or four hundred attendees, mostly industry professionals and aspiring writers."
She sighed, rubbed her brow, then added, “My publisher and agent have also arranged for a signing event while there. It will be in a conference room in the hotel across the street on Saturday in the early afternoon.”
"I will send two additional Keepers to Kansas City for backup," Logan said. "We'll establish perimeter security and have contingency plans in place."
"I'll coordinate with them once Willow and I have more specifics about the event logistics," Casper said. "Timeline, venue layout, crowd control measures, media presence."
"Copy that. And Casper? Given the escalation we're seeing, I'd recommend treating this as a potential flashpoint. If he's going to make a move, a public appearance where he can see Willow with you might be the trigger."
As the call continued, Willow felt the weight of the situation settling even more heavily on her shoulders. What should have been a celebration of her professional achievements had now become a potential trap, with her as the bait and Casper as the target of someone's twisted jealousy.
But looking at his determined expression, she realized that maybe this was exactly what they needed. It would be a chance to draw the stalker out into the open where they could finally identify and stop him… or her.
27
THE STALKER
The private airfield outside Omaha buzzed with quiet efficiency as chartered jets came and went, ferrying wealthy passengers to destinations across the Midwest. They sat in the leather passenger seat of yet another anonymous aircraft, watching Nebraska farmland pass beneath them through the small window, rage simmering just beneath a carefully maintained exterior calm.
