He shakes his head in disbelief and pours himself a Scotch.
We both sit and stare at his drink. I’m sure his mind is going to the same ugly places as mine.
Mom and James, who must have already been on their way home, come rushing into the room.
“What did it say?” Mom says in a panic. “Where was it? When did it happen?”
Tommy, who is already on his second Scotch, says, “It was in Avery’s backpack. It happened today, but we don’t know when, and Nanny didn’t notice anyone suspicious.”
James’ phone buzzes. “Garrett is here. I’m going to let him in.”
“I’m scared, Tommy,” Mom cries, as he wraps his arms around her. “If he could have snuck something in her backpack without anyone noticing, doesn’t that mean he could have grabbed her just as easily?”
James escorts Garrett into the office. Garrett lays out a plan for more security for the girls. Previously, they’ve only had security when they’re traveling with Mom and Tommy, and really, that has been mostly to keep the paparazzi at bay. When they’re here, they go all over the place with just the nanny. Malibu is pretty laid back. “Where have they been?” Garrett asks.
I tell him what the nanny told me.
Garrett reads over the note and turns to Mom. “So this guy has been in love with you and sending you notes for years. Why does he think you’re a whore all of a sudden? What did you do?”
I pour Mom a glass of water and hand it to her.
“It has to be the sex scenes for the movie I’m working on. They’re pretty intense. The character uses men, so the scenes look bad in that respect. One scene in particular is pretty erotic.”
“Could he have seen them already?” I ask.
“If he works in the movie industry or knows someone that does, I suppose it’s possible.” She takes a big drink of water. “He’s sent me a lot of stuff in the past, but it’s always been sweet. I think he’s a little weird, personally, but he’s never threatened me before. And it’s one thing to target me, but the kids—that’s another thing entirely. I’m afraid.”
Mom admitting she’s afraid of anything makes me scared for the girls too.
Garrett says, “We’ll take care of you and the girls; don’t worry.”
“What about Keatyn?” Tommy says. “Do you think she needs security?”
“Me?” I chuckle. “Why would I need security? I’m not going to talk to anyone I don’t know. I’m not five. And I’m always with my friends and stuff. You really don’t need to worry about me.”
“That, and you’ve been out of the public eye for a few years. When was the last time your photo was in a magazine?” Garrett asks me.
“Um, like three years ago. It was a horrible picture. I still had braces.”
“Are there times you go places by yourself?”
“Um, I guess I drive to school by myself and dance class, but that’s about it.”
“You’re supposed to go to the club later tonight,” Tommy reminds me.
“Yeah, but I’m going with Cush.”
Mom and Tommy both look at Garrett.
He says, “I think it’s fine if you’re not alone. Are you picking him up or is he coming here?”
“I was going to pick him up.”
“Let’s have a tail on her just to be safe.”
I drop my shoulders. “Uh, I don’t want some old guy in the club with us.”
“It won’t be some old guy, and he won’t follow you into the club. He’ll sit outside, watch Tommy’s car, and follow you home after you drop off your friend.”
“It’s either that or you don’t go,” Tommy says, sounding way more like a dad than he usually does.
“Fine,” I agree. I don’t want to upset him any more.
James walks back in the room with a stack of papers in his hand. “Abby, I want you to go back over these photos. I’ve compared them with the studio logs from the last incident. I’d feel a whole lot better if we knew who he was.” He spreads the photos in front of Mom. “Have you ever noticed any of these men hanging around? Do any of them look familiar to you?”
Mom looks down at the photos, frowns, and shakes her head. “No, never.” But then she taps a fingernail on one of the photos. “Although this guy looks a little familiar, but I’m not sure why.”
I peek over her shoulder to see what a creeper might look like.
James and Garrett also look over her shoulder.
“He looks familiar to me too,” James says. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him around.”
“What about you, Keatyn? Have you ever seen this man anywhere?”
I look at the photo. The guy does look like a creeper. Like the kind of guy that would have nothing better to do than watch Mom’s movies and chat on the internet. He probably lives in his mom’s basement. He’s maybe thirty, wears his light brown hair in a cheap, short haircut and has sort of watery grey eyes. His skin is pale, like he’s never been in the sun, and he has a pencil-thin neck that makes his head look too big for his body.