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Ryker laughs into the phone. “Okay, so his name is Joe White. He’s mid-twenties, fancies himself a gamer, but I couldn’t find much more than some social media accounts and some activity on Twitch and Discord. He works in IT, which is probably where he got his skills to cover his tracks.”
“Shit,” Link mutters at the same time Wade curses under his breath.
“So how did he set his sights on Bernadette?” Wade growls into the phone.
Ryker doesn’t miss a beat. “He’s a fan who became way too obsessed. Once I was able to track down who created the fake accounts who were emailing and sending her messages, everything started to unravel. Looks like you met him a couple years back at a signing. He posted some photos on Tumblr, which he most likely forgot about, much like the platform itself. But I’ve got his name, all known addresses—shit, I’ve got his social security number. He’s right there in Chicago.”
I rub my hands up and down my bare arms, trying to bring feeling back into my body. Because I’m numb.
“I meet so many fans that I don’t remember them. A lot of times, I don’t even know their names. But I guess I could understand the hurt if someone didn’t remember me.” I look up at Link, his eyes wide in disbelief at the same time Ryker makes a nose on the line. Wade turns to me.
“No. Don’t you dare do that. Don’t make excuses for him. Don’t take the blame for his actions. He’s been tormenting you for months. He crossed the line so many times. That’s not on you.” His voice is firm and commanding, but there’s an edge to it.
Link clears his throat. “How did the detective working this case not find this information yet? It’s been three weeks.”
“Look, I’m not going to diss the CPD, but I’m going to guess they ran into a lot of roadblocks and didn’t have the time and clearance levels to access the stuff to deal with the roadblocks.”
“We gotta get this information to police, though,” Wade says, his arms crossed. Thin arms wrap around my shoulders as Ruby join us in our little circle. I close my eyes and center myself with her support.
“Of course. I can’t contact the police directly. There are some higher-ups that wouldn’t be super happy with me if they knew I was involved—long story. So I’m going to email you from a no reply email, with a link to a very secure online portal. It will contain all the info you need for them to nab this fucker. Do me a solid and download that info onto a flash drive and hand that over. Don’t share the link. I lock my shit down but never know when someone’s going to get a wild hair up their ass.”
“Yeah, of course. You got it Ryker. Thank you for this. I owe you one,” Link says.
“No problem. You know I don’t hoard favors. Just visit next time you’re in Florida. Maybe bring that fiery redhead with you. Zella is always wanting to double date. Not my thing,” he mutters.
Link laughs, looking over at Ruby and winking. “Will do, my man.”
“Thank you,” I offer on a shaky breath. Link disconnects the call and pockets his phone.
“How do you know this guy?” Wade asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Link shrugs. “Meh, better you don’t know the details. Ryker’s solid, though. He used to straddle the line, but he wears his white hat more often than not these days.”
Wade just shakes his head. He looks as me. “You got a flash drive at home?”
I nod, shaking myself out of my current haze. “Yeah, I have a few I’ve picked up from trade shows.”
He grabs my hand. “Great. Let’s get that information to the guy working your case. I can’t remember his name.”
“Detective Green,” I mutter.
While I wanted to enjoy my night, if I can get the necessary information to the police tonight and put all this behind me, it will be worth it.
“Let them know what’s up?” I nod my head toward the rest of the group, and Ruby squeezes my hand before I drop it and follow Wade out of the park.
Wade holds my hand in the Uber back to our apartment. The plan is to get all the information, load it onto the drive, call Detective Green to let him know we have the info and then take it to the police station. The rule follower I am is slightly worried he’s going to drill me about how we got this stuff on the guy, but a text came in from Link stating we’re just supposed to tell the police we hired a private investigator, which I guess is kinda the truth.
We make our way up to my floor, and the second I step off the elevator, my stomach starts to turn. I tug my keys out of my purse and unlock my front door but realize my door wasn’t locked. My hand hovers over the knob as I process that realization.
“What’s wrong?” Wade asks next to me.
“My door wasn’t locked. I know I locked it.” I stare down at the knob.
He doesn’t question me but gently pulls my hand away from the door and moves me to the side. “Get behind me.”
He pushes the door open, and the first thing I notice is that it’s pitch black in my apartment. I yank his wrist, causing him to stop opening the door. He looks at me with reassuring eyes, but I can see the worry creased in his face.
“Stop. The lights are off,” I whisper.
