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Vallejo scratches his head. “Nah. Crime scene is packing up. They got pictures. You should inventory the damage before clearing it out so you can give the list to your insurance company.”
“Right.” Like I care about stupid shit like that while this psycho gets closer and closer to Gavin. “I will.”
“All right. We’ll get out of your hair. You got my number?” The man’s dark eyes meet mine.
“Yep. I’ll call you if anything turns up.”
“See you later then, Mitch.”
A few minutes later, the house is eerily silent. I rip down the bright yellow tape and lock the front door. It takes everything in me not to have another tantrum when I see the state of ruin in my home. Steeling myself, I ignore the mess and head for the office.
While the computers warm up, I dial Sasha’s number.
“Darling Mitch. You can’t live without me,” she drawls when she answers.
“Sasha,” I growl.
“Ooooh, someone is grumpy today!”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me, Sash. Not today.” I sent her an email detailing everything that went down last night, from the plot to lure out the stalker to the destruction of my townhouse.
“Jeez, Mitch. Being gay sure has made you catty.” After last night’s ‘coming out’ at the album launch, Sasha now knows the identity of my client. There’s no use denying it.
“Fucking hell, Sasha. Let it go, okay? Did you look over the stuff I sent?” I ignore the gay comment knowing she’s trying to get a rise out of me.
“I did.”
I wait a beat, and get frustrated when she doesn’t answer. This cat and mouse thing is her favorite game. She does it to draw out little bits of information she can use to profile you. Sasha’s been working on me for years.
“And…?”
“And, I agree with you, Mitch. There’s more than one perpetrator. Or, more specifically, more than one person writing the notes.”
Leaning back in my chair until I’m balanced on the back two legs, I run a hand down my face. “I see.”
“But one of them stopped a while back,” she continues.
“What do you mean?”
“The notes, the most recent ones all come from the same person. Whoever the partner was, for lack of a better word, is no longer involved.”
I jerk upright, causing the chair to slam back down onto all four legs. “You’re sure?”
“Am I ever wrong?” she purrs.
No, she isn’t.
“Thanks. I have to go.”
“This is all very interesting, Mitch. I’d love to hear more. Call me if you need any more help. Especially with that gorgeous Gavin Walker.”
At the mention of his name a rush of heat floods my skin, scorching hot as it travels down the length of my body.
“For god’s sake, Sasha,” I stutter, trying to get my thoughts under control. “Bye.”
“Bye, love!”
After calling both my insurance and a company that will bring a dumpster and clear out the house, I begin my research.
