The Book Stops Here

“Minneapolis. I’ve got a place outside of town.”

 

 

“So, he’s been moving along with the show,” I surmised. Then I added, “And I’m only saying he because it’s easier to pick out a gender and stick with it.”

 

“I get it.” He stood and began to pace again, clearly out of nervous habit. “And, yeah, he’s showing up wherever we tape the show.” He stopped walking and blinked a few times. “Holy hell, he’s probably someone I know.”

 

He sat down, looking like the wind had been knocked out of him. Apparently, that thought hadn’t occurred to him until this moment.

 

“Is there any chance it could be a woman?” I asked, since I’d brought up the subject of gender. “There are plenty of twisted female stalkers out there.”

 

He made a face. “It’s possible. But these don’t feel like the sorts of things a woman would do. That’s probably sexist.”

 

“No, your instincts could be right,” I said, although inside I wasn’t so sure. He was a good-looking guy and could have easily attracted the wrong sort of female attention. I glanced at my phone and realized Derek might arrive at any moment. “Why haven’t Tom and Walter called the police?”

 

“I don’t know,” Randy said, exasperated. “They think I’m either hallucinating or I’ve turned into some kind of a diva. Or divo, I guess. I haven’t been with the show for very long so maybe they think I’m trying to stir up excitement with the media or something.”

 

“Have they said that to you?”

 

“Not in so many words. But lately if I complain about something, even if it has nothing to do with the stalker, they ridicule me.” He frowned more deeply and shook his head. “I happened to mention that I thought I was coming down with a cold a few weeks ago. Walter said that maybe my stalker had put sneezing powder in my talcum. Tom thought that was hysterically funny.”

 

That seemed kind of cruel. And shortsighted, too. They were demeaning the star of the show, which couldn’t be helpful to the morale of the staff and the reputation of the program.

 

“Think about it,” I said. “Do you have any idea who could be doing this to you?”

 

“I have my suspicions, but I’d rather not say because it doesn’t make sense.”

 

“Would you like me to talk to my friend who owns the security company I told you about? He could make some inquiries and see if your suspicions make sense.”

 

Randy chewed on his lip. “Oh, hell. I don’t know what to do. If I have the guy investigated, won’t it just make him angrier and more destructive?”

 

Before I could answer, there was a knock on the door. I called out, “Come in.”

 

Derek opened the door and walked in. He took one look at my bruised jaw and swore ripely. “I’m not leaving you alone in this place for one more minute.”

 

“I’m not quitting,” I said, instantly defensive.

 

“Of course you’re not.” He sat on the edge of the couch and scowled as he studied the bruise on my jaw. “But as long as you’re working here, I’ll be accompanying you every day.”

 

I beamed at Derek, then looked at Randy. “This is Derek Stone, the security expert I told you about. Looks like he just made your decision a lot easier.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

 

After formally introducing the two men to each other, I announced that I had work to do on the next book. Mostly I wanted to talk to Derek alone and was hoping Randy would take the hint and leave. But he looked perfectly happy to hang around until Derek mentioned that he was about to sign on to a conference call. Randy got up to leave then, right after securing Derek’s promise to meet him later to discuss the stalker situation.

 

Once Randy was gone, Derek explained that he didn’t have a conference call. He simply wanted to see me alone. He took a good, long look at my injuries, not happy at all about the bruising. And I wasn’t happy that he could see it through my makeup, since it meant I would need another visit with Chuck before I went onstage again.

 

I had discovered bruises on my upper arm, as well, where my attacker had gripped me and squeezed, but my long sleeves covered those.

 

“I know you’re in a time crunch,” Derek said with reluctance, “so go ahead and get to work. But this conversation isn’t over.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I’ll want to hear every detail of the assault.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You’re sure you don’t know where this animal lives?”

 

“I have no idea. But Vera can tell us.”

 

“Good. I want that information.”

 

I didn’t like the tone of his voice. Derek was the most civilized and sophisticated of men—unless his loved ones were threatened. Then he turned into one of those guys who thought he had a license to kill. In Derek’s case, he actually did have a license—for a gun. And while I appreciated his need to protect the people he loved, the fact that he often carried a weapon and knew how to use it didn’t exactly fill me with serenity.

 

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