That man was still there. Still with her.
The security system had occurred, and the trip to LA was over, but the man who had inserted himself into Rose’s… Aldo Caspani, remained a constant presence in Rose's life. What should have been a temporary arrangement, a few days of professional protection, had stretched into a few more days.
The chartered flights were bleeding money at an alarming rate. False identities and cash transactions required careful planning and substantial resources, but commercial airlines meant passenger manifests and security cameras and the kind of paper trail that could be traced later. Privacy came at a premium, but their confidentiality was essential.
They pulled out a tablet and scrolled through the carefully organized files containing months of research. Rose's schedule,her habits, her professional commitments. The Kansas City conference had been circled in red for weeks. It was a rare public appearance for Rose with hundreds of attendees, providing the perfect opportunity to finally make direct contact.
But now Caspani would be there too. Standing between them like some misguided knight protecting a princess who didn't need protection. Who needed liberation.
The plan had been so simple. A few carefully orchestrated scares to make Rose feel vulnerable and alone in that isolated farmhouse. Hang-up calls to create unease. Silk roses mailed to demonstrate devotion mixed with the subtle threat of someone who could reach her anywhere. Then, when fear had made her desperate for comfort, they would reveal themselves as her salvation.
Instead, she'd called for professional help, and now this stranger was embedded in her daily life like a parasite.
"She's got an event coming up," they murmured to the empty cabin, fingers tracing the conference details on the screen. "And I've been planning for months."
The Midwest Screenwriters Association conference. Rose would deliver a keynote speech to hundreds of aspiring writers who worshipped her talent. She would present an award at the evening ceremony. Most importantly, she would be accessible in ways that her isolated Nebraska fortress never allowed.
The chartered jet began its descent toward a small airport.
Caspani thought he was protecting her, but he was only delaying the inevitable. Rose belonged with someone who had loved her since before fame corrupted everything around her, someone who understood that her talent deserved reverence, not exploitation.
"That's when I'll strike," they whispered, closing the tablet with trembling hands that could have belonged to anyone consumed by desperate love. "And she'll finally be mine."
The wheels touched down, carrying them closer to destiny. Soon, the waiting would end. Soon, Rose would understand that all the roses, all the watching, and all the careful preparation had been acts of devotion leading to this moment. And Caspani would be nothing more than a memory to her.
28
"We need to focus on Trevor Ashworth," Sadie said through the phone speaker, and Casper could hear the sound of files being shuffled in the background. "He's checking multiple boxes for stalker behavior."
Casper leaned forward, his attention sharpening. "Walk me through it."
"He works as a freelance investigative photographer now, which gives him both the mobility and the professional equipment to conduct sophisticated surveillance operations. But here's what's concerning… during Willow's teenage years, he took hundreds, maybe thousands of photographs of her. Most paparazzi sell their shots immediately, but Trevor kept an extensive personal archive, which he now lists many for sale.”
"Why would he do that?" Willow asked, her voice tight with unease.
"He recently pitched a 'Where Are They Now?' documentary about former child stars to several television networks, with you as the primary focus. Claims he's been 'preserving your story' all these years." Sadie's tone carried obvious disgust. "It's obsessive behavior disguised as professional interest."
Casper felt his jaw clench. "What about his current location and travel patterns?"
"That's where it gets interesting. He travels to different cities every few weeks for freelance work. Has all the equipment needed for long-range surveillance."
Tyler's voice joined the conference call. "I've been running travel records for everyone on our suspect list. No commercial flights or rental cars under their real names recently, but I'm checking private charter records to be thorough."
"What about the LA trip?" Casper asked, his tactical mind working through the timeline. "Who could have known Willow's schedule and location?"
"The meetings with Christopher and Mack would have been completely private," Willow interjected. "Only the people in those rooms would have known about them.”
Casper turned his intense gaze to her. “But Nathan's cocktail party is a different story entirely.”
Willow’s eyes widened as Casper continued to nod grimly. "Social media."
"Exactly,” Sadie said. “I’ve checked social media for posts from that night..." The sound of rapid typing filled the pause. "Here we go. Multiple photos of Willow from the party, several showing her with you, posted by at least six different attendees. Anyone monitoring social media could have tracked her exact location, her activities, even her assumed relationship status."
The violation felt like a physical blow to Casper. Their private moments, their growing closeness, had been documented and broadcast for any obsessed fan to analyze and interpret.
"Time stamps show the photos were posted within hours of the event," Sadie continued. "Trevor or any other stalker could have used social media as a real-time tracking system."
"Son of a bitch," Casper muttered under his breath.
