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“Maybe we are being paranoid. Maybe he got the message to leave you the fuck alone.”
“He could be waiting for a better opportunity.”
Maggie visibly shuddered.
“If anything, I want to make sure the stalker knows I am no longer here.” Now that he’s laying low, it would be a good time to leave. And if he was watching her, knowing she had left would keep her friends safe.
“Hopefully, the police patrols spooked him or her.”
“Her? Now that’s an interesting thought,” said Rachel.
“Okay, but have Detective Watts arrange for an escort to the airport.”
“Hmm. That would be cheaper than taxi fare,” snarked Rachel.
“So call him.”
“Why not?” No one would follow them in a squad car.
Lev entered Rachel’s home through the kitchen facing the back alley. Two people were inside. In the living room. A man and a woman. Rachel’s scent lingered, but she wasn’t here. No matter, I will ask.
As Lev entered the hallway, a man with a hair-bun, looking like a crazed Cossack and reeking of adrenaline aimed a shotgun at him. Behind him a woman dressed in scrubs, with similar hair to Rachel’s, stood with her own gun drawn. Her hands trembled as if she faced an angry bear. What danger were they expecting? His wolf rose. Where’s Rachel?
“Don’t move, asshole,” said the man through gritted teeth, “or I’ll blow a hole clean through you.”
Their bullets would sting and maybe throw him on his back briefly, but then he’d put them in their place. He restrained his wolf. Best to calm humans rather than to play into their fears. “I’m Rachel’s friend, Lev. I don’t mean any harm.”
The man wrinkled his nose. “You are the stalker.”
The woman who bore a resemblance to Rachel, gave Lev a quizzical look. “Wait. You are Lev? The man who stopped the bomber? We thought you died in the explosion.”
“Call 911, hon,” said the man.
“But it’s him.”
“Man in Black for sure. Call the police. We can’t trust him.”
Lev met his eyes. “Enough. Put the rifle down.”
The man leaned the shotgun against the corner of the wall. “Yes, sir.”
She gaped. “Jim, are you okay?”
Lev smiled at her. “Your name please?”
“Maggie.”
“Maggie, Jim sit.” He directed his attention to her. “Maggie, explain why you think I’m a stalker.”
Under his mind control, she rattled on about how Rachel mourned his death and how a possible stalker knocked her out while Rachel was gone. How he must have mistaken her for Rachel. The unknown man had stolen her laptop and oddly, her toothbrush and hairbrush.
Jim spoke up. “Cops think someone wanted a sample of her DNA. Secret government sort of thing.”
Fuck. Rachel was being hunted by whoever knew she carried Stallo’s gene. Mole. She had delivered the information to her cohorts. “Where is she?”
“Officer Watts took her to the airport. You missed her by two days,” said Maggie. “By now, she must be on the second leg of her flight to Kathmandu, Nepal.”
No. She’d mentioned going to Nepal at dinner, but he didn’t think she would go now. Alone. If she even made it to the airport. “Do you know if she got there?”
