by Carlyn Cade
“A lovely girl. Too bad she doesn’t have royal blood running through her.”
“Forget about that. I love her and I’ll marry her if she’ll have me, which doesn’t seem to be the case at the present time. Her life is being threatened. About five minutes ago, her brother called and asked for your help.”
“In what way? Do you want to bring her here to SwissDen?”
“He seems to think it would be unsafe for her to leave her condo.”
“Then what does he want?”
“Rumors of your connection to Marcellini have made their way to California. And Ryan wants you to use them to find the man who’s been stalking Stacia.”
“Aha! My connections are fine for you and Stacia when you’re in trouble, but not good enough at any other time.”
“Stacia knows nothing about this. And as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect her, even begging you to use your connections, the same as you would for mother or me in the same situation.”
“You’re right, son. I’m sorry. I’ll do what I can. Now tell me everything you know.”
Clay filled his father in with all the information Ryan had given him. “Remember, he said very explicitly, no rough stuff. Just take him to any police station and mention Ryan Saunders’ name.”
His father snorted. “You don’t know the mafia at all, do you, son? I can tell them your message, but they’ll still do whatever they want.”
“You have a good enough relationship with Marcellini to make certain Ryan’s instructions are followed.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Thanks.” Clay stood up. “I’ve got the jet ready to go.”
“Going? Where?” his father asked.
“To Stacia, of course,” Clay said as he rushed out the door.
♥♥
“I have more details on the Melbourne case,” Chief Brannigan said the next day when he telephoned Ryan at Stacia’s condo. “I decided to discuss them with you over the phone. I didn’t know how much you wanted your sister to hear.”
“I appreciate that, sir,” Ryan said, checking to see if Stacia was out of hearing range. “She’s in the kitchen making us lunch right now.”
“We talked with many of the victim’s friends, neighbors and relatives. She lived alone after her husband died. One day, she was in the grocery store when a guy approached her, asking her advice about which brand of laundry soap she used. He said he had some tough stains to get out of clothes that had gotten soiled from his job. One thing led to another, and he kept talking to her. As you can safely assume, he was much younger than she was, and she was obviously flattered by his attention. They went out several times, but she met him at the restaurant, the bar, or wherever they were going. She wouldn’t bring him home. She talked about him to everyone, telling them about the great man she was dating. But evidently, she told only one person, her closest friend, how young he was. No one saw him or met him. She didn’t want to bring him to her place, because she thought people would think he was a gigolo. But one time she did...and you know the rest.”
“Obviously, he’d staked her out first and knew where she lived,” Ryan said.
“It seems that way.”
“Does the coroner know whether the time of death occurred before or after the note was taped in the elevator?”
“He believes she was killed first sometime during the night. The time recorded on the security camera when the note was placed there also substantiates this.”
“So he kills her, plants the note and scrams.”
“That’s what I figure,” Brannigan said.
“Any prints?”
“None. The security camera picked up a man’s hand in a glove reaching inside the elevator. He had no other items or marks that could identify him. Just fingers taping the note to the wall. The cameras showed he did it in a split-second. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”
“What about the other security cameras?” Ryan asked. “What did they pick up?”
“Not much. When the security guards let Melbourne and the man into the building, he had his cap pulled down low and also kept his head down when coming and going. When you watch the videos, he makes it appear like a normal person’s actions. Obviously, he’s done this before, and who knows how many times? You know someone like this can work all over the world. That’s why it’s so difficult to identify them in local cases like this one.”
“You know he’s our guy though, don’t you?”
“Doesn’t seem to be much doubt in that, especially since a note was found next to her body which said, Guess who’s next, Audra?”
“What kind of psychotic bastard are we dealing with, Chief? He kills someone just to deliver a few notes.”
“When you’ve been in this business as long as I have, you learn life or death means nothing to scum like him. He’d just as soon kill you as look at you. He doesn’t need a reason,” Brannigan said. “And Ryan, I didn’t want to tell you about the note yesterday in front of your sister. Since the murderer used the name Audra, I was sure it was our man, but I wanted to wait until we had a chance to compare the note to the others to see if the same person wrote them all.”
“And did he?” Ryan was certain he didn’t have to be psychic to know the chief’s answer.
“Absolutely. He used the same paper, the same ink, and the writing’s the same. Everything’s been confirmed on this by the experts.”
“I appreciate you withholding this last note from Stace,” Ryan said, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “I have to hang up now, Chief. She’s heading this way.”
“One more thing, can you come to the station tomorrow? I’d like to get your input on some mug shots I’ve been searching through. We’re narrowing down our choices. We’ve had the people who’ve seen him trying to identify him. Also, I understand there’s some paperwork that needs your attention. It shouldn’t take long.”
“I’ll be in about ten,” Ryan said as he ended his call and turned toward Stacia. “This reminds me of when you were little, and you used to make me play tea parties with you and your dolls.” He grinned at his sister as she set his plate of food on the coffee table. “The only difference is now we get real food.”
“I could get a couple teddy bears out of my closet if you’re lonesome.”
“I wish we were back in those days right now,” Ryan replied, his somber tone reflecting his fateful thoughts.
Me too. And then there would be no psychotic killer planning a different kind of party for me. Stacia closed her eyes and shuddered as fear trampled through her body destroying her much-loved memories of another time, another place.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ryan was at the office the next morning for his meeting with the chief when the security man guarding Stacia’s front door was called on his lapel microphone. “I’ll check with her,” she heard him say.
“There’s a guy at the front gate who wants to see you. He says he’s Prince Clayton.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Stacia said. What was he doing here?
“I take it that’s a no.” He turned his head to transmit the answer.
“Stop.” Stacia stuck her hand up to gesture her objection. “Of course, I want to see him.”
“I don’t think so, Miss Saunders,” the guard said, shaking his head. “Your brother wouldn’t approve of someone we don’t know coming up here. This man could be anybody, including the stalker.”
“Let me talk to him then. If it’s Prince Clayton, I’ll take the responsibility for letting him come up.” Her heart was beating so rapidly she didn’t know how she had the ability to speak rationally. What was Clay doing here? she asked herself again.
“The guard at the gate has already checked his I.D., but this Prince Clayton person still has to be frisked.”
“All right,” Stacia said, trying hard not to smile. “You do know you’re planning on frisking royalty, right? I’ll bet he’s never had that done before. May I please ta
lk to him now?”
“Push this button and you’re all set.” He handed her the mic.
“Clay, is it really you?”
“Hi, Stacia,” the sexy male voice that could only belong to Clay said.
“What are you doing here?” Stacia asked. Her heart kept racing in a back and forth Ping-Pong ball pattern. Even his voice, in the middle of all this terror, could still turn her on.
“I was in the neighborhood?” he replied, allowing his statement to become a question. “May I see you?”
“I’d like that, but I’m told there’s something else you need to do before you can come up.”
“What?”
“I seem to be having a problem here with a stalker. They’re afraid you might be him, so they don’t want to take any chances with my safety. They want to frisk you.”
“Sure, why not? It’s not like I haven’t been frisked before.”
“Have you?”
“You know better than that.”
Stacia turned to the detective. “The prince is ready to be frisked.” She gave him the mic back. She wanted to jump up and down and raise her arms in victory.
“I don’t know,” the detective said and began to shake his head again. “Maybe I should call your brother.”
“He knows Prince Clayton, so all he’ll do is tell you the same thing I am. It is him.” Her temper was beginning to sizzle. “I said I’d take the responsibility, and I will. Now do what you have to do, just let him come up here.” She felt bad the instant the words were out of her mouth. “I’m sorry, I realize you’re only doing your job. I guess this whole ugly situation is getting to me more than I know.”
“Apology accepted.” He smiled and pushed the button to transmit his response. “Escort him up here once you’ve cleared him.”
“Thank you,” Stacia said. She realized they weren’t taking any chances with Clay not being who he said he was.
“When he arrives, I’ll open the door,” the guard instructed. “But before I do, I’d like you to look through the peephole and make sure he’s the right man.”
Oh, he’s the right man, Stacia thought. He has been from the beginning. All we need is the right time...and the right destiny.
The knock sounded what seemed to Stacia to be an eternity later. As directed, she looked through the peephole and there stood Clay, as sexy as ever in his tight jeans and his blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his tanned muscles. She started to unlock the door.
“Get away from there,” her security guard demanded.
Stacia gaped at him.
“Sorry,” he said, “but you don’t know where the stalker is. You standing in an open doorway is an invitation for him to shoot.”
“You think he could be in the hallway with an armed, security guard out there?”
“He could be anywhere. It’s not for me to decide if he is or isn’t. My job is to keep you safe no matter what. Now, please back away from the door altogether.” He looked through the peephole and unlocked the door. “Okay, Cinderella, I’ll let your Prince Charming in,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.
Stacia watched as her protector opened the door, and Clay walked into her life once again.
♥♥
“Do you have another ice sculpture exhibit near here?” Stacia asked when Clay and she sat down on the sofa.
He didn’t seem to know what she was talking about.
“You said you were in the neighborhood,” she explained.
“I was joking,” he said. “Ryan called me.”
“He did? Why? Did he ask you to come here?”
“He called because he was worried about you. And, no, he didn’t want me here.”
“So you decided to come galloping to my rescue anyway?”
Clay grinned. “That’s what a prince is for, so I’m told.”
She didn’t feel like laughing, so she stood up and walked to the bar. “Can I get you anything?” she asked, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth in spite of her effort to be serious.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Ryan told me a little of what’s going on. Suppose you fill me in with the rest.”
She ignored his request. “Why would you fly all the way here from SwissDen to help protect me?”
“Because I care about you, or didn’t you gather that from our last conversation?”
“But you’re the one who left me. You didn’t give me much of a chance to say how I really felt.”
“Suppose you tell me now.”
The guard was sitting on a straight-backed chair facing the door. She motioned her head toward him. “I can’t,” she said.
“Now you sound like your brother. When we talked on the phone, he kept telling me those same words, but I came here anyway. I want to take you back to SwissDen with me. You’ll be safe there.”
“And how will you be able to accomplish that?”
“I don’t know, but I thought once I got here, Ryan would help me figure it out.”
“The stalker wrote in his note that one step out my door and I’m dead,” she said in a fatalistic tone. Just saying those words terrorized her. Even having Clay here with armed security people guarding her front and back doors couldn’t stop her from believing the inevitable would happen if she left the condo...and possibly even if she didn’t.
Clay got up and walked over to her. He put his arms around her and pulled her close to him. “Ryan and I aren’t going to let anything happen to you, Stacia. Whatever the three of us do, we’ll decide together first, and I guarantee you’ll be safe. I flew my own plane over here to get you, so we wouldn’t have to use commercial airlines. And when we get to Switzerland, there are some places even a stalker can’t get to, and believe me, SwissDen is one of them.” He tilted her face up to his. “Trust me, Stacia,” he said.
“I can’t go to SwissDen, Clay. As soon as the stalker’s caught, I have to get back to work.”
“That’s not a good enough reason. It’ll only take hours to get back here from there. It won’t be holding up the production schedule much. Got any more excuses for me?”
“Did Ryan tell you the stalker has now become a killer?”
“He did, and he also said you’d be angry at both of us because he called me without asking you first. Are you?”
“I should be.”
“But you realize we both love you, right?”
Stacia stared at him.
“You have a strange look on your face, Stacia,” Clay said. “Does it bother you to know I never stopped loving you? Or have you met someone else?”
“There’s no one else.”
“Let me guess. You’re still hung up on the right time business.”
“It’s more than that.” She glanced nervously in the guard’s direction.
“Where can we talk privately? Can we go into your bedroom?”
“We have nothing but time,” she said. “We can talk later.”
Clay crossed his arms. “Have you ever played chess, Stacia?”
She shook her head. “Why?”
“I was wondering if we were still at stalemate like we were the last time I was here. Or have we moved to checkmate and game, you win?”
♥♥
“I told you not to come here,” Ryan said angrily when he returned a short time later.
“I couldn’t stay away when Stacia’s life was in danger. You should have realized that,” Clay replied.
“What did you tell her?” Ryan asked.
“That you said she’d be angry at both of us if she knew you’d called me.”
“Wait a minute,” Stacia said, placing her hands on her hips and directing her question to Clay. “You haven’t said why Ryan called you in the first place. If he didn’t want you to come here, why did he call you?”
“Watch it, Clay,” Ryan warned. “That’s the position she assumes when her temper’s ready to blow.”
“I know all about her red-haired temper. Did she tell you what –”
�
�You’re not going to get out of answering my question, either one of you, by trying to change the subject. Quit stalling and talk.” Stacia had all she could do to refrain from shaking her finger at them.
“It wasn’t too long ago I said the same thing to you,” Ryan said.
“She didn’t want to talk to me either,” Clay added.
“My question is serious. You two are acting like...” She tried to grab for the corresponding analogy. “Like a couple of little boys caught with their hands stuck in the cookie jar. For the last time, why did Ryan call you, Clay?”
“I just thought he should know what was going on with you, Stace,” Ryan tried to explain, not waiting for Clay to answer.
“I don’t believe you,” Stacia retorted. “What could be so bad that you both try to make a joke out of it instead of telling me the truth?”
“Let it rest, Stace. It’s not important,” Ryan said sharply.
“I’d rather put our energies into how we’re going to get you to the plane. Anyone got any ideas?” Clay asked.
Stacia thought about Ryan’s belligerent attitude when he’d come back after stomping out of the room. When he’d returned, he’d said, I did what I had to do. He had to mean he’d called Clay, yet he didn’t want him to come to California. So what was the purpose of his call to Clay, and why did Ryan say he had such a bad taste in his mouth? Everything in her life seemed to have taken on an air of a bizarre mystery ever since she’d first met Clay. From an anonymous backer for her latest movie, to mystifying dreams with the power to change her life, to a stalker who believed she was Audra. Now both of them refused to tell her about the purpose of their phone conversation.
“I’m not sold on her leaving here anymore,” Ryan said, breaking into her thoughts.
“I can think of a dozen scenarios where she’d be in more danger here,” Clay said. “The killer could start a fire in the building, and everyone would have to evacuate the premises. What would you do then? Or what about a bomb? If Stacia has to get out of here in a hurry, how would you handle those unexpected scenarios? Or he could hold a gun at the security guard’s head and force his way in here, or even shoot his way up here.” Clay looked up at the plywood-covered skylights and pointed at them. “And why do you think that could stop him from crashing through your barricade?”
