by Desiree Holt
“I’m sorry. The news is not good.”
“Don’t tell me she’s involved.” He slammed his hand on the arm of the chair. “I won’t believe it.”
Avery shook her head. “She’s not involved. I hate to tell you this, but she’s dead.”
For a moment he couldn’t speak. All the blood seemed to drain from his head and he couldn’t make his mouth work.
“Dead?” He finally got the word out. “Annemarie dead? That’s impossible. You must have gotten it wrong.”
“No, I didn’t, and I’m so sorry, Blake.” Avery handed him a sheet of paper. “Here. I printed out all the details. She was killed in a one-car accident on a very rainy night.”
“But where? How? What—” Why couldn’t he make his brain work?
“According to the report,” Avery told him, “she was in Maine, not far from Houlton. Do you know if she had family there or anything? Or was she visiting someone? The police report doesn’t say.”
“I have no idea.” He felt sick to his stomach at the idea of Annemarie dead. “I told you she never discussed family or even friends. And I’m sorry to confess my ignorance by telling you I don’t know where in Maine Houlton is.”
“It’s up near the Canadian coast,” Sam told him. When everyone looked at her, she shrugged. “I had a roommate in college that came from Houlton. I visited her a couple of times before we lost touch with each other.”
Blake drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. Annemarie dead? How was that even possible?
Because people die, idiot.
He closed his eyes and saw an image of Annemarie. She had been so enthusiastic for most of their four years, keeping him organized with ruthless efficiency, always with a smile on her face. What in hell had driven her to run away without a word of warning? And what would the next body blow be?
He glanced at Sam, saw her watching him with sympathy and…and something else. If only he could wrap his arms around her, put his head on her shoulders, and weep. And then take comfort from her body. He swallowed a hysterical laugh when he thought about the severity of the situation and yet his body was demanding that he lose himself in this woman he was feeling more for by the minute.
He looked at the sheet of paper. “Damn. This happened less than a week after she quit. I can’t believe no one notified me.”
“If you weren’t listed as her person to call, then they’d have no reason to. Unfortunately, there’s nothing in the report to indicate who that person was.”
“But everyone knew she worked for me,” he protested. Then he stopped. “I guess not. PAs aren’t the most publicly visible people. Tell me what happened,” he demanded.
“You know as much as I do.” Avery nodded at the sheet of paper. “I only know what’s on the report. She was driving late at night, in a bad thunderstorm. At the moment we have no idea where she was headed. The assumption is she was driving too fast and lost control of her car. It skidded off the road into a tree. The report says she died on impact.”
Annemarie dead! No. Not possible. He shook his head, barely able to comprehend it. She had been so vivacious, so full of life.
“Are they sure it was an accident? Maybe this maniac who’s after me had a hand in this.”
Avery shook her head. “Nothing indicates it, but I’m calling the state police anyway to double check. They were the ones who filed the report.”
“Please.” He took a moment to pull himself together. Dead! He could hardly absorb the word. “Get me all the information you can including who claimed the body. There must have been someone they notified. Someone who—”
Avery held up her hand. “I’ve given you all the information I have so far. Of course we’re looking into it further. But I at least wanted you to have this information right away.”
“Thanks.” He closed his eyes, conjuring up the last image he had of Annemarie. She’d been running around her hotel room, throwing stuff into her suitcase, driving herself and him nuts and not giving him any information about why she was leaving and why right then.
Then a thought popped into his head. “What about her apartment? Someone had to terminate the lease, close it up, get her stuff. Right? All that information is on my other cell phone.” He paused. “Which is in my briefcase that I left in the SUV.”
“I’ll get it,” Sam told him and jogged out of the room.
Neither Blake nor Avery said a word until Sam returned with the case. Blake took out his other cell phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the entry for Annemarie and handed it to Avery. She copied down the information and handed the cell back to him.
“I realize you’re really shaken by the news about Annemarie, but I have one more piece of business we need to go over. I had a nice conversation with your agent. He gave me all the details about the remainder of your signing tour.” She tapped her tablet and studied the page it brought up. “His office has done a good job with all the arrangements, but we need to change that up.”
Change things?
“Why?” he asked. “His assistant always works it out so everything goes smoothly.”
“We’ll be handling those from this office instead. We won’t do them ahead of time, either. If whoever this is can hack into passenger manifests and hotel registrations—which, by the way, is entirely possible—we want to give him as little lead time as possible.”
“Henry usually emails me with all this info,” he pointed out. “Annemarie made sure I got to where I was supposed to be when I needed to be there.” Just saying her name made his heart ache. “Who will be my point of contact now?”
“That will be Samantha.” Avery smiled. “Your new personal assistant. You’ve got a week before you leave. That should be plenty of time for you to bring her up to speed on everything you need from her.”
“I’m sure I can handle it,” Sam told them.
“Good.” Avery made a note on her tablet. “And Sam will be staying at your parents’ house with you. I assume that’s okay? As your bodyguard, she needs to be with you at all times.”
He almost said that’s what he wanted, too, but he bit his tongue. Despite Sam’s belief they had to take this slowly, he knew doing just that was going to be hell.
Avery opened the box on her desk. “Let’s get you set up with one of your new phones and then I think you two should get out of here.”
She selected one of the phones and peeled off the little sticker on the back with the number. She checked to make sure it was good to go, gave Blake the sticker, and told him to memorize it.
“Okay, Avery. I think we’re all set here.” Sam touched Blake’s shoulder. “Come on, big man. Let’s get out of here.”
He wanted to tell her his brain was falling apart. Instead he just pushed himself out of the chair, and picked up his briefcase.
“Thanks, Avery. For everything.” He was still shaken by the news. “You’ll check all that stuff about Annemarie, right?”
She nodded. “I will. Go on. Get out of here.”
His suitcase and messenger bag were waiting in the hallway when he walked out of the office.
“I was so pissed off back at the restaurant I forgot all about them.” Great. Good thing his head was attached. “This guy is really screwing with my brain.”
“That’s what he wants,” Sam pointed out. “I’m going to help you make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Yeah?” He shook his head. “How do you plan to do that? Get me a new brain? Sam, I’ve got all these signings coming up, ending with a big one at the end. I have to be on my game.”
“And that’s why you have me,” she reminded him. “Come on. Let’s get going.”
He followed Sam out to the parking lot, trying to absorb the fact that someone had really turned his life upside down. Annemarie was dead. He was being stalked. He had an itch he couldn’t scratch for his new b
odyguard. What in the hell would be next?
Chapter 5
Blake was silent as they drove away from Vigilance. Sam knew he was still digesting Avery’s news about Annemarie. She thought about swinging by Fresh Roasted for their special coffee, then wondered if maybe a slug of bourbon was more in line with what Blake really wanted. It was obvious Annemarie’s death had been a real blow to him.
He blew out a breath. “I have to get my head screwed on right. I owe it to my readers. And I don’t want to be in a position of making excuses for my piss poor attitude.”
“Be glad you’ve got some time to digest all of this. And maybe before you have to leave we’ll have all the answers.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice,” he grunted.
Sam reached over and gave his arm a squeeze, and nearly jerked her hand back at the jolt of electricity that simple contact created.
We’re taking it slow, she reminded herself. Seeing what’s really there. But with each passing minute she was afraid she’d be the one to break the rules rather than Blake.
“I need to make a stop at my place first,” she said. “Just long enough to pack a suitcase and get some other things I’m going to need. And don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’ve learned how to travel light.”
At the little cottage where she lived she insisted Blake come in.
He frowned but followed her inside. “You don’t really think whoever this is will do something to harm me if I wait in the car, do you?”
“No, because I don’t believe he’s even halfway through his little game.” She shook her head. “I can promise you he’s got a lot more tricks up his sleeve, and probably a spectacular finale.” She waved at an easy chair. “Have a seat. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Something to look forward to.” Blake dropped into the chair, leaned back and closed his eyes. “I just wish I knew what the fuck I did that was so terrible it prompted something like this.”
“It could be something so insignificant you’d never think of it,” she called from her bedroom. “Let me get everything together here. When we get to your place, we’ll do a little mental exercise I learned a while ago and see if we can dig anything out of your memories.”
“You think I haven’t tried to do that?” he snapped.
“I’m sure you have,” she soothed.
She did not want to get him riled up. He was dealing with enough as it was, but she was sure somewhere hidden in the recesses of his brain was the trigger for this whole thing. Checking to make sure she had what she needed, she closed her suitcase, zipped it shut, and carried it to the living rom. Next came her laptop with its carrying case and the little gizmos she kept in there, like thumb drives if she needed them. She gathered up her cords and charger, stuck them in the case and zipped it shut.
“Okay.” She smiled at Blake. “Done. Let’s get going.”
“Already? I thought Annemarie was the only woman who could pack that fast.”
“Six years in the military trains you good. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“I forgot you were in the military.” Blake pounced on that as soon as they were back in the car. “Military police, if I recall what Avery told me.”
“For part of it. Maybe I’ll tell you about it one of these nights.” Or maybe not.
She glanced at him again, not happy with the pinched look on his face or the tension vibrating from his body. Without saying anything she decided a trip to Fresh Roasted and its companion store, Fresh from the Oven, was in order after all.
“You don’t need to do this, Sam. I’m good. I’m not a kid who needs a trip to the candy store to take the edge off.”
But he looked like someone who had been run over.
“Then it’s for me, and I’ll share. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
When she returned he was sitting rigid in the front seat, eyes staring straight ahead.
“You think he’s watching us right now?”
“If he is, let’s not give him the satisfaction of thinking he’s got you on edge. Here.” She handed him one of the go cups. “This should help steady you. Their coffee will fix just about anything.”
“Unnecessary but thanks.” He blew on it to cool it a little before taking a swallow.
“No problem.” She put the muffins on the console. “For later.”
She backed out of the parking spot and headed toward the Morgan house. Again they rode in silence. When they got to the house and were settled in, she vowed to make him talk about this situation with Annemarie. She knew her death was devastating. But she needed him on full alert if they were to figure out how to deal with this maniac.
“I’ll check to see if there’s room in the garage for your car,” he told her when they pulled into the driveway. “I don’t know if they took one of their cars and left it in Tampa when they boarded the cruise ship or not. Let’s get inside so I can check.”
But he sat for a moment in the car, just staring at the house. Sam wondered what was going through his mind. Was he glad to be back here, even under the circumstances? He’d said he was glad to be here with her. She wished she could trust his feelings. And hers. She wanted to trust them, because holy hell, she wanted him in the worst way.
At last, with a sigh, he climbed out of the car, grabbed his suitcase and messenger bag and carried them up to the porch. She followed right behind him, waiting while he pulled out his key ring and unlocked the door. She had always loved this house, even when she wanted to kill Blake. With its wide porch and decorative shutters, it had the same Key West look as Vigilance and many of the other houses in Arrowhead Bay.
“Let me go in first,” Sam told him, nudging him aside.
“Why? This is my parents’ home. Surely you don’t think he’d do something here?”
“I think this person has no boundaries. Besides, I’m not taking any chances with your safety. Wait right here.”
She pulled a gun from the small of her back and eased into the house. Ignoring her orders, Blake followed in right behind her. He dropped his stuff on the floor of the foyer.
“Even though I don’t live here anymore,” he told Sam, “it still feels like home.”
“That says a lot about your parents, but I thought I told you to wait outside.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening. Besides, he’s had plenty of chances to kill me if he wanted to.”
“I hear you, but—” She had turned and taken two steps into the living room when she stopped short. “Shit.”
“What is it?” Blake pushed her aside. “Fuck, Sam. I can’t believe this. Damn it all to hell!”
Every visible surface of the room had a white sheet of paper on it. She walked over to one of them and stared down at it.
I know what you did and you’ll be punished for it.
Oh, God. The anguished look on his face shot straight to her heart.
“Don’t touch anything,” she told him. “I’ve got this. Go in the kitchen and sit down while I check the rest of the house. I mean it, Blake. I don’t want to have to worry about you. Then I’m calling Avery.”
He took two steps in that direction, then came to such an abrupt stop she barely avoided colliding with him.
“Shit. Sam, come here and see this. I do not believe he did this.”
What now, she thought, and looked at the spot on the floor where he was pointing. Centered on a plain sheet of the same paper were shards of what had once been a statue or some other china piece.
She wasn’t sure what she was looking at, except the broken pieces of a knickknack. When she rested her hand on his shoulder she could feel his tension vibrating. “What is it?”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s a Lladró statue my mother got when she and my father took a trip to Spain. She collects things like this. God. How the hell am I going to tell her about this? She
loves this stuff.” He looked closer. “There’s a piece of paper in the center of it wadded up in a tiny ball.”
He started to reach for it but she yanked his hand back.
“Leave it. I’m calling Vigilance and getting a team over here.”
Sam checked everything, including the linen closet, grateful she didn’t find anyone or anything. Then she put her gun away and walked into the kitchen where Blake was sitting in a chair at the table, head in hands.
“Who the fuck is doing this?” He sounded as much bewildered as mad. “And why? I swear, Sam, I’ve never done anything to hurt anyone. At least not knowingly. Certainly not anything that merits this kind of reaction.”
Again she lifted her phone to make her call, but before she could hit the speed dial number the signal for an incoming call rang. The Vigilance number popped up on her screen.
“Yeah, Avery? I was just about—”
“Where are you?” Avery interrupted.
“At the Morgans’.” Sam frowned. “Why?”
“We’ve got a big problem, Sam. We’re no longer dealing with just a stalker here. This guy just upped his game in a major way.”
“What do you mean?” Sam tightened her grip on the cell.
“Just listen and don’t repeat anything I say until you hear it all. I had let Sheri know about Blake, since we really don’t know what this stalker is going to do. About an hour ago she got a call from Sharon Kennelly. She and her husband live in the house behind the Morgans. Sharon came home after a late lunch with friends and found her husband beaten unconscious in the back yard. Sam, he’s in pretty bad shape. Sheri called me as soon as she got to the scene. She’s convinced it has something to do with Blake’s situation. It’s all just too coincidental.”
“I see.” Sam kept her voice under control so she wouldn’t send any signals to Blake. She glanced out one of the back windows toward the Kennellys’ house. “Is that what all those people are in the back yard for?”
“Yes. EMTs took Grant to the hospital right away. He was unconscious and they said he was lucky he wasn’t dead he was in such bad shape. Sheri sent one of her officers with them and he took Sharon Kennelly. He’ll stay on site guarding Grant until we assess the situation. I don’t want to leave the man unprotected. He’ll also try to get a statement if Grant regains consciousness before Sheri gets there.”
