Eleventh Grave in Moonlight (Charley Davidson #11)

Some of the texts from the stalker gave me a sneaking suspicion he did indeed have access to her text messages. He simply knew too much about her family and friends.

Something good had already come out of this whole operation. Since telling us the truth, Amber’s mental state had taken a dramatic turn for the better. I could feel her relief while we were explaining the plan that morning. Knowing we were on the case. Knowing she would be kept safe.

The entire situation broke my heart. And made my skin crawl. Stalkers were a different sort and terribly unpredictable. At least the male ones were. Female stalkers rarely resorted to violence, but one just never knew about the male ones.

I watched as all eyes turned toward Osh when he passed. The new kid. The mysterious new kid who … crap. Every girl in school was going to be swooning over him. I hadn’t thought of that. And Osh, the most irredeemable flirt I’d ever met.

Oh, well. We’d programmed a new number in Amber’s phone from a burner I would carry. I would be Jess and would invite her to the mall the next day. Considering the circumstances, Amber would argue back and forth, saying she couldn’t go, that she had a lot of stuff going on, but I would eventually convince her to go. And then we would be ready for the sting Saturday morning.

We’d also set up some codes, so I could secretly make sure everything was okay without tipping off Joe Stalker. I’d have to ask her about her cousin Osh. See how his first day of school was going. Make sure he wasn’t setting up any dates for later. From what I’d seen, many of the seniors at Roadrunner High could moonlight as supermodels. Maybe there was something in the water. I didn’t remember the girls at my high school looking like pop artists and movie stars.

“Okay, we’re all set,” Uncle Bob said, walking out of the principal’s office. Underneath his very Uncle Bob exterior beat the heart of a pissed-off Uncle Bob interior. Whoever this stalker was, his life was about to take a turn for the worse.

I knew what happened to people who messed with those Ubie loved.

We were headed to his SUV. I slowed my pace in thought. I really did know what happened to such people. Damn. Now I was going to have to make it my mission to get to Joe Stalker before Ubie did. Getting away with murder was not something that happened often. For him to pull that rabbit out of his hat twice would be nigh impossible.

I watched him walk out the front doors, apprehension working a hole into my stomach.

*

When we emerged from the halls of medium-to-higher education, I noticed a thrill rush through the crowd like an electrical current. A telltale sign that somewhere nearby stood a very hot person of the male variety. Girls twittered as they talked quietly. They giggled and gasped. Either Osh had already made an impact, or my husband was checking out the younger crowd.

Yep. We’d turned the corner of the building, heading toward the parking lot, when I spotted Mr. Reyes Farrow standing next to his stunning ’70 Plymouth ’Cuda. Classic. Dark. And all muscle. The car was hot, too.

He raised his chin in greeting to Ubie and waited for me. And he was going to cause about twenty girls to be late for class. They stood around, whispering and gazing starry-eyed. The guy took chick magnet to a whole new level of attraction. He was less like a refrigerator magnet and more like one of those cranes that picked up junk cars to be crushed. Substitute girls’ hearts for the cars, and that was Reyes in a nutshell.

“Okay,” Ubie said, “I’m getting the details worked out with the op team. You’ll keep in contact with Amber all day, yeah?”

“Of course, Uncle Bob. We are going to get this guy.”

He nodded, unconvinced. At least he’d stopped harassing me to take a few days off.

“Okay. Get your ass home.”

“Uncle Bob, what’s going on? Why the sudden need for me to take a few days off?”

He shook his head. “I just think you need a break,” he said, lying through his slightly crooked teeth.

“Well, I just got back from a vigorous trip to Scotland. No more taking off for a while.”

“I mean it, Charley.”

“I can see that.”

Not really sure if I’d agreed or not, he walked to his SUV.

What would have Ubie so upset that he couldn’t tell me? He would hide it from me? Maybe he knew we were stalking him, for his own good, of course.

I looked across the street and spotted Garrett’s black truck, still on Ubie duty. We had yet to catch Guerin, and I couldn’t take the chance that, even though we thwarted the initial design that the man was destined to kill Uncle Bob, it would happen anyway. Fate was a fickle thing. Who knew what changing one miniscule part of it would do to the rest? I was a firm believer in the Butterfly Effect.

“Hey, handsome,” I said, strolling up to Mr. Farrow.

He eyed me, a dimple appearing at one corner of his mouth, but he was mostly looking at my T-shirt, which read, IN MY DEFENSE, I WAS LEFT UNSUPERVISED.

“What brings you to this neck of the woods?” I asked, pulling on a sweater over my shirt.

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