Page 34 of The Agent
“Why would I? I have my own internet here.” Stevens waved a hand at his computer. The man’s hand shook slightly, which brought Tully great joy.
“Have you broken up with your girlfriend?”
Stevens frowned. “What? No.”
“Have you had any financial losses in the past six months?”
Sweat glistened on the other man’s forehead.Good.“Nothing significant. The usual ups and downs of any business.”
“How far down?”
“Shit, it’s no big deal. I’ve had worse months.”
“Then why are you stalking your ex-wife?” Tully gave him a hard, threatening look as he bit out the words.
“My ex ... Natalie?” Stevens looked baffled. “Stalking her?”
“Sending her emails, leaving her letters.”
Stevens shook his head. “I’m not doing those things. I haven’t spoken to Natalie in months.” A cloud of bitterness darkened his expression. “She and I aren’t exactly friends.”
“Which is why you’re stalking her. To punish her.”
He looked almost relieved. “I swear I’m not doing anything to Natalie. I have a new life. I don’t even think about her.”
That pissed Tully off, but he read Stevens as telling the truth. Of course, the problem with narcissists was that they often convinced themselves of their own bullshit. That made them believe they weren’t lying even when they were. They could fool a lie detector test on a good day.
Tully changed tacks. “Do you have any idea who might stalk her?”
“She’s not the kind of person who makes enemies.” Stevens considered for a moment. “What kind of emails and letters? Threats?”
“Yes.” He wasn’t going to mention the broken mirror. He decided to stroke Natalie’s ex to see if he could add information. “You’re a businessman, so you understand local economics. Does she have a jealous competitor? Anyone whose business she might have hurt?”
“Natalie bought the salon from its owner, so it was already a going concern.” Stevens’s tone was dismissive. “She didn’t have to build up a clientele or anything. It was just handed to her. So I don’t see anyone getting bent out of shape over that.”
Tully wanted to hit the other man in his patronizing nose. He knew Natalie had taken a faded hairstyling studio and turned it into a sleek high-level salon. But he’d learned long ago not to let his emotions control his actions. He nodded.
“Who are you?” Stevens asked again.
Tully reached for his wallet, smiling when Stevens flinched. He drew out a business card and flicked it on the desk. Tully stood, deliberately looming over the desk and Stevens. “If I find out you’re the stalker, you will be very, very sorry.”
The man spread his hands in a gesture of abject surrender and stammered, “I’m n-not. I swear.”
Tully turned on his heel and walked out.
Natalie rolled a section of her client’s hair around her brush and aimed the blow-dryer at it. The voices of customers and staff, the drone of hair dryers, the bright pop tunes playing through the ceiling speakers, and the occasional ring of the office phone hummed in her ears. It was the best kind of music, spreading a soothing balm over her frayed nerves. Her work had kept her sane during the disintegration of her marriage and it would calm her until her stalker was caught.
Once she’d convinced Tully that her stalker couldn’t be a staff member, he’d insisted that she and Pam hold a meeting that morning to inform her employees about Natalie’s stalker. They’d given out Pam’s cell number to call if anyone saw anything suspicious. One of the shampoo girls was so upset Natalie had sent her home. Natalie had been embarrassed to share her strange situation with her staff; it made her feel weak and not in control of her life. However, everyone had rallied around her, their shock turning to anger and a determination to protect her. Their loyalty had brought tears that she’d turned away to hide.
Pam had been especially pleased with the presence of Gino. He worked out at the gym on a regular basis, so he had impressive muscles, and he had appointed himself Natalie’s friend and protector from the day she’d started at the salon. Pam felt he would be a deterrent to any stalker.
“Sir, do you have an appointment?” The raised voice of her receptionist, Bianca, cut through the pleasant swirl of sound.
“Excuse me, please,” she said to her client as she set down her brush and hair dryer.
As Natalie walked toward the front desk, she scanned the tall, thin stranger standing in front of it. He wore a navy suit and white shirt with a red-and-blue-striped tie pulled loose at the neck. His blond hair was receding from his high forehead, but he was probably only in his thirties. He had a bland, round face that seemed at odds with his lean frame.
“May I help you?” she asked as she stepped in front of the desk.
