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“Thanks.” I followed her in, grateful not to be left alone. I wasn’t a clingy person, and I didn’t want to put her out, but knowing that my stalker had been right here scared me. It was one thing when I was in L.A. and had an expensive security system and other people around the house, but here I was a lot more vulnerable. If he could drop off a gift, he could get to me in other ways.
In the hall, I turned left into the guest living room while Grace and Desdemona continued deeper into the house. I found the contact for my security firm’s number and dialed.
“Hi, Kennedy.” Jeff, my security point person, sounded alert and focused. “Did you need more background on that Waldron guy?”
“No. I wouldn’t have called you on Christmas Eve for that. Something happened.” I gave him the rundown on the events of the day and waited for his response.
“If you’re not going to hire a local for personal security, you should be back here where we can keep you safe,” he said. I wasn’t surprised. He’d tried to persuade me of this before, and while I knew it would be easier for them to do their jobs if I was home, I wouldn’t let this stalker control my life.
“You know how I feel about that, Jeff.”
“In the abstract,” he agreed. “But if the stalker followed you to New Zealand, then this is more serious than we thought. Your life could be in danger.”
I considered that. “It’s a big ‘if’, to start with. He may have arranged for the box to be delivered. And even if he’s here, I don’t think he wants to hurt me.”
“Kennedy….”
“Hear me out. I think he believes himself to be in love with me. The weird letters, the disturbing videos, and now this. He left me a basket of the things I use to relax and feel good.” I’d been toying with this theory since I’d seen what was in the box, and while it didn’t make the gift itself less creepy, it did make me a bit less terrified of him doing something awful to me. “I don’t think that was random or a mistake. I think that was his way of trying to show he wants to take care of me.”
“Eh.” He didn’t sound convinced. “You an amateur psychologist now?”
I sighed. “I’m just thinking about character motivation. Acting isn’t a practical life skill in many ways, but it does help you get inside someone’s head. If he wanted to hurt me, I’ve been alone in that cottage every night, yet he hasn’t made a move. Yeah, it scares me to know he could be somewhere nearby, watching me, but he hasn’t done anything to harm me.”
“You can’t know for sure that’ll continue.”
“You’re right. But I’m staying in a house with others tonight, and I’ll look into alternative options tomorrow. It’s already Christmas Day here, so there’s not much else I can do.”
He made a sound of disapproval. “Will your landlady agree to install a video feed of the cottage for us to monitor?”
“Probably. I’ve also asked the police to let me know if they find any fingerprints.”
“Good. Do you have a photo of what was left for you?”
“Yeah.” I’d taken a couple on my phone. “I’ll send them through now.”
He waited on the line while I did it.
“Thanks,” he grunted. “I know you think you’re safe, but be careful, will you? Pain in the ass or not, I like you, and I’d prefer you stay alive.”
I smiled. “I will. Thanks, Jeff.”
We ended the call and I slumped onto the sofa. It wasn’t as comfortable as the one in the private living area. I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again, reluctant to leave myself vulnerable for even a few seconds. That creeping sensation of eyes on me hadn’t gone anywhere. It would be great to call Gray and talk it over. He’d understand in a way others didn’t, having been stalked himself. But he’d be enjoying his first Christmas with Mikayla, and I didn’t want to ruin yet another person’s holiday festivities. It could wait until later.
I rubbed my temples, wishing the throbbing behind them would fade. I knew I probably only had a few more minutes before either Grace or Desdemona came to check on me, but I was stuck in this strange mental space of wanting quiet and solitude yet needing to not be alone.
In my hand, my phone rang.
Jeff calling back? Or Nate, perhaps?
But no, it was Blair. Had he grown a sixth sense for when I was in trouble? Considering our bond, it didn’t seem out of the realm of possibility.
“Happy Christmas Eve,” I said when I answered.
“Merry Christmas,” he responded automatically. “Is everything okay?”
I hesitated, wondering whether to be truthful with him. I didn’t want to lie, but I’d hate for him to spend the night worrying about me. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because I got a message from Liam on social media suggesting I get in touch with you.”
