Page 68 of Hot Momosa

“No. But it’s been a horrible morning… The package…” I shook my head as if that would rid me of the memories of those damned photos. “I need my dad.”

“I’ll need a five-minute head’s up to check outside before we leave.” Stuart didn’t look happy, but it wasn’t his place to question my decisions. He was mine and Gunnar’s bodyguard, not our jailor.

Two hours later, I walked into the governor’s mansion.

No amount of primping could hide the fact I’d spent most of the morning puking or crying or both. That I’d managed to pull myself together enough to make the trip was a miracle in and of itself, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being in the condo without Leo.

“Dahlia, darling.” My mother floated down the grand staircase like Scarlet O’Hara with a martini glass dangling from her fingers.

“Mimi!” Gunnar made a beeline for his grandmother.

“Look at you. I think you’ve grown a foot since the last time you visited.” She pulled the boy into an embrace, but her gaze never left me. “Bad morning?”

“Migraine.” I nodded to her cocktail. “A little early isn’t it?”

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” She released a dramatic sigh and held her hand out to Gunnar. “Come on, squirt. Let’s go find Granddaddy.”

He did a happy dance as he trailed behind his beloved Mimi.

Complicated dynamics between mothers and daughters were as old as time, but mine ranked up there with Joan Crawford’s Mommy Dearest and Carrie Fisher’s relationship with Debbie Reynolds. Someone could make serious cash if they ever turned our story into a movie.

Shanna’s ring tone filled the air and scared the ever-loving crap out of me. Who knew “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” could induce such panic?

Ducking into the parlor, I whispered, “Hi Shanna, I’m at my dad’s. Can’t talk.”

“I’ll be quick, but it’s important.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Whatever she had to tell me was bad for her to use her work voice. “Okay.”

“Sorry I’m a day late, but there was an article in the Picayune yesterday about the break-in and the stalker. Did you see it?”

“I spent yesterday enjoying a wonderful day with Leo and Gunnar.” The last thing I’d wanted to do was skim my newsfeed for stories about myself and ruin the magic.

“The story was total crap. They had the facts about the stalker wrong, and they sensationalized the break in.” She hesitated. “They didn’t come out and say it, but they’ve painted Leo as a potential suspect.”

I sank onto a settee that predated the Civil War. “I didn’t report any of that to the police. How did they find out?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ll do some digging.”

Is this what Harry was referring to? Did my father do this?

“Thanks for letting me know.” Once again, I had a sick feeling. The timing of everything going on around me seemed like too coincidental. “Shanna, before you go. The stalker left a package on Leo’s doorstep this morning.”

“You mean outside his building.”

“No.” I couldn’t tell her about the photos without getting into the more personal details of our evening. “He took pictures of Leo and me on the roof last night.”

“Damn. Okay. Let’s think this through.” She went quiet for what felt like forever. “I’m not thrilled that this guy knows where you are, but he probably slipped into Leo’s building behind another resident.”

The idea of the psycho waiting outside for someone to enter or leave the condos freaked me out. “That makes sense. Leo and I thought maybe Harrison was the stalker, but I had a conversation with him this morning. He admitted to hurting his wife and other women, but denied sending me the packages.”

“If he were guilty, would he tell you the truth?”

“He wouldn’t, but I believed him.” Or maybe I’d let him manipulate me again. Pushing the thought away, I said, “Leo thinks the stalker was a reporter.”

“It’s a good theory, but I wouldn’t completely discount Harrison. As for the photos, there are a couple of hotels that have a view of Leo’s deck. I’m not overly concerned about that.”

“There’s more.” I chose my words carefully. “Some of the pictures were taken from outside the glass doors.”

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