“Samuel Delton. He was a high school classmate of you boys and James. The same year as Bran and James. Do you remember him?”
Bran was floored. He’d gone to school with some stalking psycho. “I recall the name. If I looked at our yearbooks and saw his face, I’m sure I would remember more. We weren’t friends, but we weren’t enemies either, and you know none of us were ignorant bullies. You would have kicked our asses, including James’.”
“I know who they are.”
That shocked both him and Patrick. Their dad had been very involved in their lives, but not when it came to socializing with parents at school. Half the time, they would hit on him, which embarrassed and pissed him off in turns. The consequence— he wasn’t bringing cookies to parent teacher conferences.
“How?” Patrick asked, probably equally as bewildered.
“Samuel’s dad, Tom Delton, was an O’Faolain accountant caught stealing. He skimmed funds from several accounts and moved them into offshore accounts. We found some of what was stolen, but not all. He begged us not to press charges to save his wife and son. His son was your age, Bran. I hate thieves, but I had to think of the consequences for Tom’s family. My attorneys got what we could, fired him with no reference, took the loss, and moved on.
“I wasn’t aware, but I guess Tom killed himself a year later. His wife had already left him and the boy. Samuel’s father pulled him from school, and he finished high school online. After Tom died, nothing about the boy was flagged— until they traced where some of the pictures from the hidden cameras were going. It was to a house owned by Samuel Delton.”
“I never heard anything about this Samuel or his situation,” Pat said. “I was younger, but still, if kids were talking in Bran’s class, I would have heard.”
“I didn’t say anything to either of you boys. It was unfortunate, but it was business, and it was handled.”
“We understand that, Dad. I’m as surprised as Pat though that we didn’t catch wind of it. Did they bring Delton in for questioning?”
His dad rubbed his eyes, stressed and understandably so. “He was gone. No idea where. The detective wouldn’t, or more likely couldn’t, give me more information, but he did tell me that Delton is a person of interest to the FBI.”
Bran’s heart rate shot sky-high at the revelation. The stalker’s behavior was worrisome enough, but then to find out he’s someone with a personal vendetta against his family, and he’d done something bad enough to involve the FBI...
“Are our loved ones safe?”
“He believes Delton has run for the hills, so to speak, but until he’s arrested, we all need to stay vigilant.”
“I need to hire security for the girls.”
“I knew you’d say that. I didn’t already call because you have the right to make those decisions over Raven and her sisters, but I suggest calling MacGregor.”
Bran got his phone out to call Jo since he didn’t have the guard’s number.
Pat asked, “I guess targeting us makes some sort of sick sense, but why James?”
“They believe it has something to do with you three being close friends. It was some sort of trigger.”
Jo answered on the first ring, and Bran immediately asked to speak to her guard. MacGregor must have been close because he was on the phone instantly. Bran explained the situation and what he needed. MacGregor said he would handle it. He could have some of his people in Dublin in a day, possibly two. Apparently, he owned the security company and only hired highly trained ex-military.
“I’m indebted. I guess we’ll be seeing you at lunch. Jo said you wanted to pick the place.” Bran smiled at the growl he heard through the line. “You can let me know what you’ve found out then. I appreciate it.”
33
It probably appeared to anyone watching Sam sitting alone at the single picnic table at his RV campsite, working away on his laptop, that he was a lonely man. In reality— he was renewed, invigorated— had finally found his passion, his calling.
He traveled when he wanted, stayed where he wanted, and now that he’d bought the small, nondescript SUV, he was even more mobile. His dating life had increased exponentially, which meant more home videos. Though ‘home video’ gave the impression of a grainy, clumsy attempt when his vids were cinematic wonders.
@SammySoGood— King of Twisted Love Stories was growing in popularity. People couldn’t get enough of Sam’s special brand of love. It was a shame he always had to engage the old love them and leave them cliché. Because some of his women were worth second dates. It was also regrettable they never knew how gorgeous he made them for his films. They at least got to show their faces.Healways had to wear a mask.
Today, in this peaceful park for motorhome adventurers, he was checking in with his less erotic but just as satisfying job ofseeing what the People He Most Wanted to Suffer were doing. Revenge against the Musketeers.
He was excited again, even when he had to sort through hundreds of mundane work emails. Gold miners didn’t find a nugget of gold in every sieve basket after all.
Most of his cameras had been found, but the not-so-smart detectives hadn’t thought to check laptops. Josephine O’Connor deserved an MVP award. Through her, Sam had access to the O’Faolain’s emails and all three Byrne sisters.
He was careful to use his remote computer software sparingly. He could enter bank account information, credit cards, reroute prescription medications, anything really, but Sam wasn’t about financial gain. He always wanted his revenges to hurt harder and deeper than money.
Such a shame emails weren’t used as readily as they used to be. Most people even sent business correspondence through text. There were companies, like a dentist’s office, that sent confirmation texts while automatically sending the same message through email.
