Page 33 of Shadowing Her Stalker

They fell silent for a moment, their cutlery still as they digested this unsavory bit of reality.

“I don’t know about y’all, but I’m feeling pretty powerless right about now,” Betsy admitted.

“Me too, Mama,” Cara said softly. Then she thought about those desperate people sitting at their keyboards grasping for any opportunity to feel heard. She looked from her father to her mother, then across at Wyatt, then she smiled. “But at least we aren’t alone.”

CARAWASPARKEDat the dining room table pretending to write scripts for upcoming recordings, but it was hard to come across as calm and centered when her life was skidding out of control. Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she stole another glance at Wyatt. He’d been alternating between feverish typing, glaring at his screen and muttering soft oaths under his breath for the past hour. She’d tried to engage him in conversation a couple times, but his curt answers and unwillingness to look up for more than a second telegraphed his unwillingness to engage in her procrastination efforts.

Thankfully, her phone rang.

Wyatt frowned at the name on the screen, then slid it across the table to her. “Zarah.”

“Hey, Z,” she said into the phone. “Hang on, let me go in the other room.”

She slipped from her seat to move to the other room, but Wyatt caught her wrist as she passed, shaking his head and mouthing, “Stay.”

Everything in her rebelled against his high-handed order. But the man was here because of her. He’d packed a bag, picked her up and taken up residence in her parents’ house all to keep her safe. She needed to stop fighting for control. The sooner she gave herself over to the situation she was in, the sooner she’d find her way through it. Struck by her own moment of clarity, she moved back to her notebook, anxious to capture the thought. She scribbled the words “give over to get through” on the paper, then reclaimed her seat with a grin.

“What’s up? Aside from you,” she added, glancing at her watch. It wasn’t even seven Pacific time. “You’re usually still unconscious until at least nine.”

“I got a call from the short-term-rental company,” her assistant began, and Cara sucked in a sharp breath.

She’d completely forgotten to text Zarah to let her know she’d left the condo. “Oh! The condo.” Her gaze flew to Wyatt. He widened his eyes, then grimaced. He’d clearly forgotten about checking out of the place too.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Zarah demanded. “Where are you?”

The level of panic in the younger woman’s voice set alarm bells off in her head. Cara pulled the phone away from her ear, pressed a finger to her lips to indicate Wyatt should keep quiet, then put the call on speaker. “What’s going on?”

“You tell me,” Zarah demanded. “They called this morning saying the place was torn up and informing me they were charging the entire security deposit. Not the unit owner, but the actual company. The app,” she babbled. “Little Rock police got a noise complaint. Neighbors said it sounded like there was a big fight going on. Anyway, they called the owner, but they live in Oregon. They asked the cops to check it out, and when they did, they found the door wide open and no one there. It was trashed.”

She and Wyatt exchanged wide-eyed stares. Cara wet her lips, then forced a word past her suddenly dry throat. “Trashed?”

“The police sent pictures. The unit looks like someone was totally raging.”

Without a word, Wyatt reached for his own phone and started typing a text.

“I left early yesterday morning and everything was fine,” Cara said in a rush. “I meant to text you so you could check out, but I forgot. I’m so sorry. I didn’t trash the place. You know I would never. But I packed up my stuff and left. I’m sure I locked the door after me.” She darted a glance at Wyatt for confirmation. He thought for a moment, then nodded his agreement. “When did they get the noise complaint?”

“They said yesterday morning,” Zarah replied. “I guess it took some time for it to get from the police back to the owner to the rental company. I freaked when I heard. I thought maybe the kidnapper was coming after you again.”

“No. No one came after me,” Cara said, her mind awhirl.

“Where are you?” Zarah asked again.

She opened her mouth to speak, but clamped it shut again when she caught sight of Wyatt wagging his head hard. “I, uh, I’m staying with a friend. I didn’t like being alone after, um, what happened.”

“What friend? Where?”

“Listen, Z, I want you to go ahead and reach out to the company and the owner and assure them I did not do this. Also let them know I’m happy to cover any damages, though. I should have let them know I was out of the unit. You have access to my cards and accounts. Do what you need to do to make this right.”

“But you’re okay? You’re safe?” the other woman prodded.

“I’m safe.”

“When are you coming home? Do you need me to book a flight for you?” Zarah persisted.

“Not yet. I’m still...decompressing. Catching up with my friend. But I’ll call you as soon as I’m ready,” she promised. “Would you please take care of the condo for me? I feel horrible. Maybe I didn’t lock the door properly after all. Either way, at the very least, I should have let them know I was out so they could set the alarm.” Wyatt made a motion for her to wrap it up. “I’ll call you back later, I promise.”

She ended the call before Zarah could wedge another question in and looked up at Wyatt aghast. “Someone broke in yesterday. It must have been right after we left.”

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