Page 125 of Stormswept Colorado

River

Sorry to hear that. I know it’s not pleasant for her. But I’ve got an update myself and was about to text the both of you. Want to call Ayla and conference me in?

Actually, I’m with her in LA right now.

Nice. You two are official?

As far as I’m concerned, yes.

Put a ring on that finger. Don’t let her get away. That’s what I did with mine, and it’s working out great.

I snorted.

“What?” Ayla asked.

“Nothing. River’s being his usual self.” I video-called him. After the usual friendly greetings, Ayla held up the new photo we’d received.

River whistled. “Somebody doesn’t like you, Landry. Luckily, I have a pretty good idea of who.”

Ayla sat forward, getting closer to my phone screen. “You traced the email?”

River had his glasses on, his hair messy and clothes rumpled like he’d been at his computer all night and all day. “I was triple-checking my work. Had to be sure. You recall the previous email that you received from Biggest Fan in Silver Ridge? I was able to narrow down the origin to the west side of Los Angeles, but couldn’t get a closer pin than that.”

“I remember,” Ayla said.

River’s mouth quirked at the corner, a devious half-smile. “Biggest Fan messed up this time. Used his personal phone to send the email. It was sent from the same restaurant you were at for the event. The phone is registered to a Paul Ruxton.”

Ayla flinched like a bolt of electricity had just gone through her. “You arefucking. Kidding. Me.”

River twisted back and forth on his swivel chair. “Afraid not. I did some quick background on him. He works for the label that owns your recording rights?”

I was struggling to stay calm. But darkness feathered at the edges of my vision.

Paul Ruxton. That piece of shit. I should’ve done more than give him a split lip.

I hadn’t lied before about wanting to destroy anyone who’d hurt her.

Ayla nodded. “He’s been working with me on my new album. But why would he do this? It’s…beyond bizarre. It’s pathological.”

“Because he wants you,” I bit out. “It’s obvious he’s wanted you for months. He set up this stalker fiction in the hopes you would go running to him for help and he could play your hero.”

“Do you think Paul seemed especially desperate at the event the other night?” River asked. “Enough that he’d ignore all caution and email you directly from his personal phone?”

Ayla’s hand flew to her mouth. “I told him I have a boyfriend. He seemed angry.”

I reached out for her hand, though honestly I was trying to soothe my own fury. Remind myself that I couldn’t just storm the streets of LA to hunt Ruxton down.

“I ditched him once we arrived at the restaurant, and that’s when the email came in. Then he got in my face right after. Said he knew about the stalker and wanted to help. Tried to kiss me. I thought Cheryl must’ve told him about the flowers, but he didn’t need that. Because the asshole sent them himself. He invented the whole thing. This is sick.”

I thought back to Silver Ridge. How the email from BiggestFan had arrived at the start of the wedding weekend, then the flowers, then Ruxton himself the next day. The bastard must’ve expected to find her terrified about her stalker. Instead, I was there.

No wonder he’d gotten increasingly desperate.

And shit, the flowers today with the defaced photo of me. Yeah, the man was no fan of mine. Explained how the stalker knew about us dating, though.

Ayla let go of my hand. “I need to call Cheryl. Right away. She needs to know.”

“Do you want me to be there?” I asked.

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