Page 42 of Reckless Single Daddy

Anything specific I should pack? – Sloane

I put my phone away and feel my spirits lift. I have something to look forward to now. My phone pings again, but I decide to wait until I get home to reply to him.

Cade can wait. I already pretty much said yes to going away with him, anyway. The rest of the day, I’ll focus on Mia. She deserves that much from me.

Chapter nineteen

Cade

I could sense that Sloane wasn’t doing okay after Mike gave us the name of her stalker. It’s one thing to know you’re being stalked and have no face to match the name; it’s a whole other thing when that person now has an identity. To make matters worse, I think once she discovered that photo of the unreleased painting of me, it really put her in a dark place.

I don’t blame her. If it were me, I’d feel the same way. It’s a violation of privacy, and it’s sick that this person would go to such lengths to get to her. Whether sneaking in was a matter of obsession or some ridiculous attempt to be an investigativejournalist, it doesn’t matter. I plan to make sure this guy pays for making her feel unsafe.

It’s because of this that I decided we should get away for the weekend—just us. She needs the chance to decompress, and I’ll take any attempt to be alone with her. I figured if we leave this evening and make it back Monday morning, she’ll still have enough time to complete any other obligations she has with Mia. I know that’s another thing that’s been weighing on her, the feeling that she’s failing her sister.

I’ll admit, I’m partly responsible for screwing up her maid-of-honor obligations. I’ve been occupying her time, taking her away for day trips and now this weekend, and I had her leave the bridal shower early. Sure, she could have told me no, but if you want to spend all your time with someone, would you tell them no? I’m not sure. It’s a battle of doing the right thing or listening to your heart. And sometimes, the heart wins out.

I finish packing up for the weekend, ready to forget the problems here for the next forty-eight hours, when my phone rings. I answer it as I zip up my suitcase.

“Hey Mike, hope Liam isn’t giving you guys too much trouble already,” I say only half-jokingly. Liam is a good kid and never gives Mike problems, but I know he wouldn’t be calling me when he knows I’m leaving town if it wasn’t something important.

“You know he’s fine, Cade. Listen…” Mike’s voice trails off. “I didn’t want to wait until you got back, but James Pickens—he’s not our guy.”

I stop short and sit down on the edge of my bed. Sloane will be here soon, and I don’t want anything to ruin our trip.

“Are you sure? The blog is literally tied to him,” I say as I rest my head on my hand.

Mike sighs. “That’s the thing, he’s just some art blogger. A fan of her work, absolutely, but not a stalker,” he replies.

But if this guy has a whole blog dedicated to Sloane, how could he not be a stalker? Plus, he’s in Rose Valley right now.

“He isn’t from here, though,” I remind him.

Mike lets in a long inhale as if he’s prepared his replies, expecting me to ask all these questions. “Yeah, he’s from Meadow Falls, which would explain why we don’t know him. But that also why he’s able to be in Rose Valley whenever.”

Great. This is just great. But it doesn’t explain the photo taken in Sloane’s bedroom. Even if he’s just a blogger, he must have been responsible for that.

“The photo inside her bedroom? He has it on his blog,” I point out, and despite not being able to see Mike, I know he’s nodding.

“I asked him about that, and he said he received an encrypted email from someone with the photo attached. He said he wouldn’t have believed it was real if he hadn’t noticed Sloane’s distinctive style in the painting, so he published it,” he explains. “He said he heard Sloane was in town for Mia’s wedding, which is why he’s been hanging around so much. He’s been hoping to ask her a few questions about her upcoming collection, but always chickened out when he’d see her around town.”

I want to curse loudly. Of course it wouldn’t be this easy; it never is. And this just means we’re back to square one.

“Any idea on who sent the photo?” I ask, running my hand through my hair as I try to process all this information.

“That’s the thing, the encryption is too advanced for the contact you provided. So I think we may be at a standstill.”

To which I say, the hell we are. This is exactly why I said what I said that day when I barged into the Bennett house—small-town cops are not equipped to deal with situations like this, and it shows. Yes, they were able to rule out Pickens, but now they have no lead for the real stalker. The search engine pointed to the blog, but the encrypted email came from the library. It isn’t like there are dozens of computers in there like you’d see in largercities, so there has to be something they can lead with from the library.

“Have you tried accessing the cameras that face the computers?” I ask.

Mike falls silent. Well, that answers that question. I roll my eyes as I hear the front door open, signaling that Sloane has arrived for our weekend getaway.

“Check the cameras and report back to my contact,” I tell him, standing up to finish closing up my suitcase. Sloane appears in the doorway with a relaxed smile.

“I will,” Mike replies. “And not that you’re doing it for me or anything, but thank you for getting Sloane away for a couple of days. Mia’s been hard on her lately, and she doesn’t need the added stress, you know?”

I smile in Sloane’s direction as I turn back to my suitcase, lift it off the bed, and place it on the floor. “I know, man. I’ll do my best to alleviate some of the stress.”

---