Page 8 of Shadowing Her Stalker

Wyatt nodded, then pressed on. “Did he make any sexual advances? Insinuations? Touch you in any way construed as intimate?”

“No. He didn’t touch me at all.” She let out a whoosh of breath. “No. Nothing, uh, sexual.”

“So let’s assume for now robbery and sexual assault weren’t his motive.” He sat up straight in the chair again, holding her gaze. “If he wasn’t someone you knew or recognized, we might also shelve personal agenda.”

“Personal agenda?”

“Old boyfriend, spurned lover, the guy who wanted to take you to the homecoming dance but never worked up the nerve to ask you,” he said with an offhanded wave. “You tick anyone off on the plane?”

The question coaxed a short huff of a laugh out of her. “I don’t think I talked to anyone.”

“Hog the armrest?”

She shook her head. “Dozed most of the way here. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Who knew you were coming to Arkansas?”

She shook her head. “My assistant. I think she told my partners. The neighbor who shares my cat.”

Lifting a brow, he asked, “You share a cat?”

“She’s a stray. Huge commitment issues. The McNeils and I both feed her. Why settle, right?”

He gave her a wry smile. “Smart cat.” Nodding to the desk phone, he asked, “Did you call your folks?”

She shook her head, but when she spoke her voice was barely more than a whisper. “No.”

“No?”

She raised one shoulder in a shrug, and the ruined white shirt she wore nearly slid off her shoulder. She wore some sort of spaghetti strap tank top thing under it. Her skin was tanned to a shade lighter than a golden glow. He wondered if the color came from the sun or a booth. Or maybe she had one of those spray-on jobs done. Either way, it was definitely more California tan than the blistering burns the Arkansas sun doled out.

She tipped her chin up. “My parents didn’t know I was coming. And now... I don’t want my mom to worry.”

Wyatt sensed there was more to the story there, but he didn’t press. Shifting gears, he hooked an arm over the back of the chair. “There are some nice hotels downtown. New ones, or you could go with a classic and stay at the Capital Hotel.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “Were you able to contact anyone who can help?”

She nodded. “Trooper Masterson let me call my assistant, Zarah. Thank goodness she had contact information on her website. She’s having a phone delivered from the TechMobile store and overnighting my passport, so I have official ID, and a credit card. I have a copy of my driver’s license in cloud storage as well. I assume I can use it along with the police report, if needed.” He nodded and she went on. “She also rented a condo here in town for a couple of nights. I’ll get a rideshare from here once I get the phone and pick up a new rental tomorrow.”

Wyatt pressed his lips together to keep from letting out a low whistle. “She sounds very efficient.” It never ceased to amaze him how money could pave right over the biggest potholes in life. Still, he wasn’t sure she’d thought her plan through. “Did she set the phone up from your previous account?”

Cara blinked twice. “I assume so. Why?”

He did his best to hide his grimace. With a single-word question, she’d proved the tech bros right about her lack of technological savvy. “You said you’ve been receiving messages from strangers either through apps or email?”

“Yes.”

“Texts as well?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes widened as she turned toward the window. Trooper Masterson approached the office, his expression sour as he raised his hand for them to see. A plastic bag imprinted with the TechMobile logo dangled from the tip of his index finger. The man was clearly peeved to be reduced to the role of delivery boy.

Wyatt stood and opened the door. “Thank you,” he said as he relieved the older man of the parcel. “If you want to finish up with Ms. Beckett’s statement, I’ll get this set up for her to use.”

“You don’t need—” she started to say as she rose from the chair, but she stopped when Wyatt looked over to her for permission to pull the familiar box from the bag. She nodded her assent.

“I’m happy to set this up to forward any communications coming in to your number to a dummy we’ll set up here. Once I’m finished, I’ll talk you through how best to use it without giving too much information about your location away,” he interrupted. “Then, if you’d like, I can drop you off at your rental.” When she seemed taken aback by the offer, he rushed to put her at ease. “Or we can get a patrol car to take you. Rideshare apps rely on cellular signals and GPS to triangulate location. We want to avoid anyone getting a read on where you are if we can.”

“You think someone will use my phone to track me?” She appeared both incredulous and horrified by the notion.

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