Page 155 of Perfect Pitch

I lift a close-up and study it. “Then you get a good look at the eyes.”

“Can’t pay enough money to hide the crazy.”

Snagging a second photo, which shows her lashes lowered, I flick it in Kane’s direction. “She tries. Paid good money for that too. That kind of lash job costs a mint.”

Kane frowns. “Didn’t think of that.”

“That’s because you didn’t spend your career focusing on stalkers, Kane.”

He leans back in his chair before asking me something he never has. “How did you end up down that path?”

I lean over the table, studying the timeline progression of this woman’s fixation on Beckett. “There was an opening in the department on the force and I was sick of traffic accidents.”

“And a career where you were involved with shutting down a threat against our congressional representative was born?”

“Not quite that simple.” My eyes are still scanning the photos. I reshuffle a few.

“Explain.”

“There’s a lot of mistakes made and things overlooked because you’re fixated on the obvious.” Kane’s silence is question enough. I let out a harsh sigh. “Listen, my time on the force wasn’t all newspaper accolades. There were cases involving divorced parents that ended up in shootouts. College kids where the result was sexual assault. Sometimes, we had the answers and just didn’t have the proof.”

“How could you?”

“Imagine knowing if you could ask for two more bodyguards tomorrow, Beckett would be immune to harm. Your analysis was spot on, but Caleb told you there’s no proof. That’s what it was like every time we tried to go before a judge without concrete evidence. Our hands were tied.”

“Christ,” Kane bites off.

“Some stalking cases take years unless you luck out. And by luck, I mean the officers. There’s nothing lucky about it for the victims.” Then I tap a photo. “Here. This is where she starts to escalate.”

Kane stands and leans over. “What makes you say that?”

I pull three random photos before the one in question and lay them beside it. “Look at what she’s wearing. How her hair is pulled back. Yes, she was everywhere she could be where Beckett was, but here? She’s trying to get his attention. She wants him to notice her. Why?”

Kane lifts the photo I’m so fixated on and checks out the date on the back. He grabs his iPad and begins typing. His whole body locks before he says, “Mitch, that’s the day after Beckett jumped out of the car after Paige.”

Swearing ripely, I surmise, “Which means she saw him chase after her.”

“The first time Beckett Miller has ever chased after a woman.”

I study the photo with new interest, pulling from my memory what Paige was wearing in the brief seconds I saw her—a dark, elegant dress, perfectly coiffed hair, and sexy heels I could describe in my sleep because she bought her daughter the exact same pair. In the original photo of the blond, she’s covered her hair, donning a ski hat, and—I whip out my iPhone for the magnifying feature—a North Face jacket. In the one she’s in the day after seeing Paige, her wardrobe has radically changed to a Breakfast at Tiffany’s-esque jacket, pumps, and loose curls. “Christ. Thank god we always have Chin wearing a body cam.”

“I want everyone wearing one from this moment forward. Caleb and Sam agreed to put someone on just these feeds exclusively. Our job is to focus on Beckett.”

“Do we have a name for this bitch yet?”

Kane nods slowly. When he gives it to me, my jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.”

“We need to have Sam work up what she could look like if she changes her appearance—hair, eye color. Anything that can be done quickly. She’s escalating and won’t take the time to do major work.” Unless we don’t catch her, I add silently.

Kane makes notes on his tablet. As he does, I spot a photo out of the corner of my eye. My eyes burn at the picture of the woman so close to Austyn as she makes her way down the red carpet. If the psychopath’s eyes were daggers, my woman would already be dead.

I let the fury that this psycho might threaten my woman fuel my resolve to do my job. “We end this quickly and without fanfare.”

“On that, we’re agreed.”

Knowing we’re finished for now, I jerk up my chin. Detouring to my room, I change my clothes to get in a good hard workout before I decide the better move is to put my fist through the wall at the idea Austyn could be at risk as much as her father.

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