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She typed a quick reply to Heather, then deleted junk mail and closed her Internet connection, proud of herself for resisting the urge to check the bestseller lists. Now if she could just get herself to write a few pages of Sex and Sensibility or maybe finish her Excess column that was due next week, she’d really have reason to be proud.
She opened up the document and scrolled to the end, where she’d last been working. But the damn title was glaring at her again. Sex and Sensibility. Maybe she needed to change it, since sensibility wasn’t a quality she seemed to possess and therefore wasn’t exactly qualified to be writing about.
She winced at the memory of her awkward encounter with Bradley, a prime example of her lack of sensibility. A woman with any kind of sense would simply be straightforward, ask him out, and see what happened. Jane, on the other hand, had silently pined after him since college, squandering each and every opportunity she had to express her interest. Why hadn’t she seen her own weakness before now? And what was the matter with her, that she couldn’t move beyond a casual acquaintance to something deeper, something real?
Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was past time when the mail was usually delivered, so she hopped up and went to the front door to check the mailbox, happy for the opportunity to be distracted from her train of thought. A box sat on her doormat—a box that strangely didn’t have an address, yet it was taped up with her name printed across the top. No other information and no postage. Just her name.
Jane stood frozen in the doorway, her stomach revolting at the package. Whatever it was, she knew it was from him. She slammed the door and locked it, then went to the phone and called Luke.
He said he’d come right over and made her promise not to touch the package, so while she waited for him to arrive, Jane paced around the house, her knife in one hand and her heart thudding wildly in her chest.
When Luke arrived, she opened the door for him. He eyed the package on her doormat, then pulled out a pair of plastic gloves from his pocket.
“You didn’t see anyone unusual around today?” he said by way of greeting.
“Besides that creepy guy wearing a black ski mask and wielding an ax? No.”
Luke gave her his half-lidded look of forced patience. “Do you always make jokes when you’re scared?”
Jane shrugged. “Pretty much.”
After slipping the gloves over his hands, he knelt beside the box and cut the tape with a pocket knife. Once open, the contents of the box became immediately apparent—it was stacked full of magazines. And judging by the covers on top, they were all graphic, hard-core porn. Jane caught a glimpse of the covers and her stomach revolted again. She turned her attention to the white envelope Luke had just pulled out of the box.
“Looks like he left you a note, too.” He slid open the envelope and removed a piece of paper with what looked like more of the same childish handwriting that was on the outside of the box. “I think he’s writing with his other hand—the one he doesn’t normally write with.”
“Either that or I’m being stalked by a first-grader.”
Luke didn’t seem to hear her. He frowned as he read the letter, and Jane’s queasy stomach took a turn for the worse.
“What now?”
He turned the paper around and held it up for her to read.
Dear Bitch,
I thought you could use a little help jump-starting your sex life. Maybe reading these will give you some ideas for your next book.
Jane tore her gaze away from the letter before she could read any more. She didn’t want to see it, or the magazines, or her front steps. She just wanted to go hide in the house and never come out again.
“I’ll call the police,” Luke said, his expression grim.
Jane watched as he placed the letter on top of the magazines and closed the box. Her stomach churned, so she wandered into the living room and slumped on the couch. She could hear Luke on the kitchen phone, explaining the situation to someone, and a minute later he hung up and came into the room.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m great now that I’m all stocked up on summer reading material.”
Luke frowned. “I’m going to do more frequent surveillance, just so you’ll know. I won’t be telling you when it’s happening, but if you need to get hold of me, my cell phone or pager will be best.”
Jane closed her eyes, trying to decide if having Luke lurking about outside her house made her feel safer or not.
Or not. What it made her feel was off balance, out of control, at any moment likely to lose the last scrap of her sanity from wanting him. Completely insensible was what she felt.
