Page 17 of SapphicLover69
“Why leave the roses outside if she’d already broken in?” Beth asked.
“Could be a dozen reasons,” Tammy answered while she picked up my clothes, inspecting each item. “The shock value, ormaybe they were left by a delivery man long after she’d broken in. Maybe she has money and hired a criminal to mess up the room so she could establish an alibi elsewhere. Beth, I’m going to report this to Catherine. We don’t know if Aspen is the only author being targeted or if others could be in danger. You call the police. They can dust this place and the box for fingerprints. Maybe whoever broke in left skin cells or hairs behind.”
Swirling in a fog, I felt like I was inside a thriller story straight from the imagination of James Patterson, Stephen King, or Selina Fowlerton. No. It couldn’t be her. OK, so she could dream up and pull off something like this. If it was her, the cops would find no evidence because she had written enough realistic crime fiction to be an expert like Jessica Fletcher. Besides, Selina had no motive to attack me—except we were up for the same award. No, that’s silly. She’s an established star with dozens of awards. I’m barely a blip on her radar.
“Thank heavens!” Beth exhaled as she returned through the nook from the bathroom. “Your gorgeous, black formal wasn’t touched.” The news allowed me a smidgen of relief. It was my favorite.
“Unfortunately, the same can’t be said about the blouse and slacks you wore this morning at the book fair,” Tammy sighed. She plopped wearily into the chair beside mine. “Shredded like the pillows. Catherine will be down in a minute. She’s planning to inform hotel security.”
“And the police department is sending over a detective and a crime scene tech,” Beth added. “They said with this being a high-profile conference, they didn’t want to take chances. Apparently, there has been trouble with a certain anti-gay hate group recently. I told them we thought this was a personal attack, but they aren’t convinced.”
“Oh, it’s personal, all right,” I said, now that my voice was steady enough to speak.
The knock hammering relentlessly at the door didn’t sound like one the polished, professional Catherine Beech would use. “Aspen, are you in there?” cried Winter’s frantic voice.
“I’ll get it,” Tammy offered. Two long strides landed her at the entrance, and she admitted Winter, who looked as frightened as I felt.
“I was getting ice from the machine and overheard Ms. Beech talking to hotel security. She mentioned your room number, and…” Her eyes widened as she spotted the torn books and disheveled bedding. “Oh, my God, what happened?” She threw her hands to her face and rubbed her fingers through her brunette bob as her mouth gaped. The shock must have sobered her up because Winter snapped to high alert.
Worried she might faint, I pushed myself up and hurried over to comfort her, gently grasping her elbow for support. “Someone broke into my room,” I said as calmly as possible.
“And you didn’t call me?” She peered at me with grievous disappointment. Stepping back, she flicked her gaze to Tammy, Beth, and then to the floor. “I guess you didn’t need my help.”
Oh, please!“Winter, that’s not it at all,” I said. “Tammy and Beth were here, and you’d gone up to your floor, where you would be safe. I didn’t even want to call Catherine at first, but they insisted. I haven’t had time to think, and I don’t want you mixed up in something that could hurt you. This woman is a psycho, and she’s at the conference. She may have even seen us together. I can’t have her going after anyone else.” All that was true. I was fond of Winter; I also hadn’t thought about telling her or anyone else. Trying to process what had happened consumed all my attention.
“Wait,” she said, raising her gaze to meet mine. “You mean this wasn’t a random break-in? You think it was—”
“We know it was,” Tammy concluded, and Beth held up the box of black roses. “SapphicLover69 striking with a vengeance.”
“Oh, my God!” Winter gripped my hands fiercely. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until I board my plane Monday morning. This woman isnotgoing to hurt you, Aspen.”
I was touched and a little amused by Winter’s declaration, since I couldn’t picture her warding off anyone who may try to attack me. She’d get hurt, and I didn’t want that. The nymph was crushing on me hard, and it was so precious;shewas precious. Warmth and devotion flowed through her touch on my skin, the determination of her grip, like a snapping turtle who refused to release a stick. For an instant, she distracted me from the headaches and now the danger that my stalker presented. It would be so easy to get lost in her big, compassionate eyes. Her glasses had almost made the slide to the end of her nose, yet she wouldn’t let go of my hands.
I wiggled one free and pushed them up for her, extending my fingers to smooth a strand of hair from her face. Before I could utter a word of consent or protest, another rap sounded at the door. The moment broken, I retrieved my hands and stepped back. “That will be Ms. Beech and hotel security. The police will be here in a minute, and we could be at this all night. I need you to go upstairs and get some sleep.”
When Winter opened her mouth to protest, I pressed a finger to her lips. A buzz of intimacy shot through me, teasing my finger as it rested precariously on the entrance to her mouth. I sensed her reaction—slight as it was—and felt her tantalizing breath brush my skin. I shouldn’t be feeling any of this. Winter was too young for me and not my type. Still, nothing is more irresistible than a woman who’s infatuated with you. Oh, if I wasn’t in the middle of a crisis!
“One of us should be alert,” I wisely proposed, “to watch out for danger tomorrow. Will you do this for me?” I honestly didn’t want her anywhere near a crazy woman with a blade. She mighttry to defend me out of a noble sense of chivalry, and I couldn’t allow her to get hurt because of it.
A myriad of expressions crossed her face before at last she swallowed and nodded.
“Aspen, this is terrible!” exclaimed the unflappable Catherine Beech as she gazed around the room. Two men in security guard uniforms stepped in behind her. I’d never imagined anything could faze her, but, when her expression iced and her stormy eyes flashed with fury, I knew having her conference defiled assuredly had.
Gritting her teeth, she seethed, “I want who did this caught and fed to the lions.” I thought her glare would ignite the black roses into a burst of flames.
Tammy took Winter by the elbow. “Go try to get some sleep. I’ve got Aspen covered. She and I both really appreciate you looking out for her, but she’s right. One of us needs a good night’s sleep to be watchful tomorrow.”
She nodded, we bade her goodnight, and Tammy closed the door behind her. I wondered if I’d have the chance to shut one eye before morning; then I wondered, if I did, would I be able to sleep at all with the weight of uncertainty burdening my mind?
Chapter 10
Inventory of Suspicions
My hands and legs had quit shaking by the time the police arrived, but my stomach still clenched in a nervous knot. I had answered all the hotel security guards’ questions and recounted to Catherine Beech why I thought I was the only conference member being targeted. She seemed to feel better after considering my reasoning, yet remained angered that my stalker would cast a shroud of darkness over the Literary Laurels Conference.
I then repeated the same information to the police detective while a tech dusted for fingerprints. Tammy, Beth, and I contributed ours for comparison. The only other person to enter the room was Winter, but I don’t recall her touching anything. I gave them her name, anyway.
“You say this began with a threatening text message on Thursday night?” Detective Lance Campbell asked. He appeared to be in his mid-forties and performed his job withprofessionalism and precision. However, the dark circles under his drooping, acorn eyes attested to the fact he’d rather be home in bed at this hour on a Friday night. It’s likely in a city such as New Orleans, for him to be overworked and underpaid, often facing mortal danger. I almost felt guilty for Catherine insisting the police come out after the long day he’d probably already put in.
