Page 35 of Hunting Pretty

Nope. Not telling her that Liath’s stalker was now definitely maybe stalking me.

Or that I now had evidence of him.

A photo that I could use to figure out who he was.

I unlocked the darkroom, my mind whirring over whether a reverse image search online would work or whether I’d have to break into theDarkmoor Timesoffice to use their facial recognition software that was hooked up to Ireland’s National Driver License Service.

Ugh, Cormac’s office got all the best toys.

I slipped into the darkroom, the door closing automatically behind me as I flicked on the red lights.

I glanced to the string I’d left the photo drying on.

I froze. No. This couldn’t be.

It was gone.

My photo of my stalker was gone. No longer hanging on the line.

In its place was a lily, gripped to the peg by its stem.

My stalker broke in here last night and stole my evidence of him.

I glanced to where I’d left the negatives from that roll.

Fuck. The bastard had taken that, too.

I snatched the lily off the line and walked back out into the office to inspect it closer, turning the stem in my fingers.

It was a sweet shade of pink with petals that curled back daintily, the inside of the trumpet white and yellow.

Light, beautiful,and… familiar.

A memory slammed into me, almost knocking me off my feet.

“Those areAmaryllis belladonna,” a man’s voice said as I stood beside him in his greenhouse.

He pointed at the pretty pink and white flowers that looked like starbursts.

“Belladonna Lilies. Aren’t they pretty, Ava? Just like you.”

They were. So pretty. The prettiest pink in the world. Would they smell pretty?

I reached out to tug a flower closer so I could push my nose into it.

His strong hand grabbed my fingers, crushing them, making me cry out.

“Don’t touch,” his voice turned cruel and hard. “Nevertouch.”

I sobbed as I clutched my hand to my chest.

It wasn’t just the pain. His fury shocked me. Scared me as he towered over me, the gray light filtering into the greenhouse silhouetting his face.

“It’s poisonous.”

Back in the newspaper office, I sucked in a gasp, dropping the lily to the floor, glaring yellow pollen scattering around the petals. It was so delicate it barely made a sound.

“You know, it doesn’t matter how much coffee you bring me, it is never enough,” Lisa called out over the clacking of her keyboard, her back to me, unaware that my world had just tilted.

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