Page 33 of Stalked

“Thanks, Jon. And if you can find out all you can about a Detective Johnson in Shreveport—he would’ve died of a heart attack eight or nine months ago—and a mechanic in Memphis who was killed in a random act of gang violence. Shawn something.”

“Okay, these two related?”

“Just look for anything suspicious in either.”

“All right, and we’re still checking on the Ammonses. All I can find so far is a dead son in the military nearly fifteen years ago. They keep a low profile, whoever they are. I can’t even find a bank account.”

“That fits with what Rosalyn told me. Let me know if there’s anything else.”

“Got it. You watch your six, boss. I’ve already got a hinky feeling about this whole thing.”

Steve took Jon’s “hinky” feelings very seriously. Not to mention, Steve felt like they were dealing with something pretty major too. He said his goodbyes and disconnected the call.

Rosalyn turned in her sleep toward him, obviously finding it difficult to get comfortable. He had thought about driving all the way through the night and getting to Colorado Springs in one push.

But that wouldn’t work. Rosalyn needed a bed where she could get a proper night’s rest. Somewhere where no one was trying to run her over or set the building on fire or slipping notes under her door.

Rosalyn had been on her own for way too long. Steve planned to show her she wasn’t alone anymore.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

She awoke to Steve’s voice again, but at least this time he wasn’t trying to tell her the building was on fire.

“Let’s get you inside. Then you can go back to sleep if you want.”

She looked at the handsome man, so strong and able, who had her tucked into his side leading her into the hotel lobby. Oh, she wanted, but sleep wasn’t it.

She wanted him. Sometimes he said stupid stuff, but she still wanted him.

He used the key card to enter their room and turned on the light. This was a much nicer room than the ones she’d slept in for the last year when she hadn’t been at the Ammonses’ house. Generic, sure, but clean, tasteful, new. With a king-size bed in the middle of it.

She walked all the way in, then turned to him. “No hot tub this time.”

She almost smiled at the speed with which his eyes flew to hers. Good. She wasn’t the only one affected by the heat between them.

“Yeah, a shame.” He pulled himself together and turned to close the door behind them. “Sorry we don’t have any change of clothes. Once we get to Colorado Springs, I’ll make sure you get something right away.”

“It’s no problem. I’m sure I’ll be okay for one more day in these.”

Maybe it was the fact that she’d slept most of the day or maybe it was because Steve had found the electronic transmitters and that just explained so damn much, but Rosalyn felt different.

For the first time since this nightmare began nearly a year ago, she was positive there would not be a note under the door tonight.

All those times she thought she was crazy, that the Watcher could hear her thoughts, that he lived inside her head? He’d simply lived inside the fiber of her clothing, able to hear who she’d talked to, where she’d checked in. That’s how he’d found her.

All the times Rosalyn had talked to herself, he’d been privy to those conversations. Embarrassing, but at least it all made sense now.

The fact that he had gotten close enough to put transmitters on her clothing was terrifying. Steve had found two. Who knew how many more there might have been in the clothing that had been destroyed by the fire.

But there weren’t any transmitters anymore. Rosalyn didn’t even mind the ill-fitting supermarket clothes she was wearing now, because it meant nobody could hear her. Nobody but she and Steve knew where they were.

She hadn’t realized how much weight she had shouldered for so long until a great deal of it was lifted. It allowed her to focus on other things.

Like how she was in a hotel with a gorgeous man. Six feet of muscle and awareness. Dark hair and green eyes staring at her like he was slightly nervous about what she would do next.

She hadn’t had anyone but him hold her in the last year. No one had kissed her or pulled her into any embrace at all except for Steve. No one had touched her.

Sure, Jim and Cheryl Ammons had given her a brush on the shoulder or pat on the back here and there. Physical demonstration of affection wasn’t the older couple’s way. They weren’t heartless, and cared about her for sure, but they just weren’t very demonstrative in showing it.

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