Page 65 of Shadowing Her Stalker

The door opened slowly, and Wyatt poked his head in, a sheepish smile crinkling his eyes. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Cara returned, a single eyebrow raised. “You in or you out?”

His smile dissolved into a wince, and he raised a hand to the back of his neck in a gesture so familiar to her now, it made her chest ache. His gaze dropped to the floor and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Listen, Emma is here with some guys from the FBI and the Department of Justice. It looks like we’re talking state and federal charges for, uh, well, both of them and they want to talk to you.”

“Okay.” Cara rose, smoothing her hands down the front of the jeans she’d been so happy to acquire earlier in this endless day. “Let’s do it.”

Wyatt took a small step back, then glanced down the hall before turning back to her with an apologetic smile. “Actually, I have to go.”

“Go?” she and her mother asked in unison.

Then Cara noticed the packed duffel at his feet. “Oh.”

“The guy I was talking to is my section chief, Simon Taylor. He’s heading back to Little Rock now and wants me to give him my full report on the way.”

“Oh,” Cara repeated, the bottom dropping out of her stomach. “Should I...? I’d like to meet him. Thank him.”

Wyatt shook his head. “No need. Plus, he’s not exactly a people person, you know?” He wrinkled his nose. “Trust me, you aren’t missing anything.”

The silence stretched several seconds too long. Thankfully, her mother stepped into the breach. “Jim and I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done,” she said as she rose to say her goodbyes. “Let me call him in from the barn—”

“Oh, no. Thank you, ma’am,” Wyatt said with a quick, hard shake of his head. “I didn’t do much more than try to tug on a few loose threads.”

Her mother wrapped an arm around Cara’s waist and gave her an encouraging squeeze. “You brought our daughter home safely to us.”

Wyatt met Cara’s eyes at last, then gave her a lopsided smile. “No. I didn’t even do that. Jim was right. Cara took care of herself and everyone else around her. I was nothing more than the guy who got to drive her home.”

“Dawson?” a man called from down the hall.

“I have to go.” Wyatt raised a hand in farewell. “Take care, okay?” He gave her a winsome smile. “Make sure the guys let you be the one who rings the big bell next week. You deserve it.”

He turned away, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder in one fluid move. Cara and her mother followed him down the hall, but stopped short of the living room. Wyatt didn’t seem to want to linger. The stern-looking man holding a leather computer bag nodded to her and her mother, then followed his agent—her agent—out the front door.

Cara wanted to call after him, but she couldn’t make any sound come out. Besides, what could she say? He was with his boss. She was with her mother. Surely they’d have a chance to catch up later. She sucked in a breath when he stopped to give Roscoe a pat as the other man made a beeline for a marked state police SUV.

“Ms. Beckett?” the young redhead she’d seen setting up equipment said as she strode toward them, her hand extended. “Special Agent Emma Parker. It’s good to meet you in person.”

“Oh. Yes. Emma.” Cara mustered her best smile, but knew it probably came across several watts weaker than usual. “Thank you for all you’ve been doing for the case.” She gestured to her mother. “This is my mom, Elizabeth Beckett.”

“Betsy,” her mother supplied as the two women shook hands.

“If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask you a few more questions,” Emma said, gesturing to the dining room. “Wyatt said it would be okay for us to set up in your dining room, Mrs. Beckett, but I promise we’ll be out of your hair ASAP.”

Cara stiffened as a flash of headlights strafed the front of the house. She blinked a couple times, then saw the taillights on the SUV flash bright as the driver tapped the brakes. Her heart lurched. For a second, she thought maybe Wyatt had forgotten something and was coming back. Maybe the thing he’d forgotten was her.

Then she saw the vehicle dip as the driver maneuvered onto the rutted gravel lane and picked up speed.

“You go on with Agent Parker,” her mother said in a gentle tone. “Do what you need to do. I’ll fix up a mess of sandwiches for whoever wants something.” Cara hesitated and her mother leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Go on now. Maybe later I’ll tell you about the guy who drove me home from the prom.”

Cara took a half step away before her mother’s teaser fully registered. “Drove you home from the prom? You said you went to prom with Paul Stanton,” she said with a puzzled frown.

“I did,” Betsy said, a serene smile curving her lips. “I went with Paul. Danced with him a couple times too, but he was more interested in sneaking drinks with his football buddies.” Her smile turned enigmatic as she started toward the kitchen. “Your daddy was the one who drove me home. It’s been him ever since.”

Epilogue

Cara Beckett strolled through Arrivals at Bill and Hillary Clinton National Airport without a single person recognizing her, and that was exactly the way she liked it. She tossed a glance over her shoulder to be sure her companions were right behind her.

“You’re in the fast-paced capital city now. Try to keep up,” she called over her shoulder.

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