Page 66 of Stalked

Rosalyn strained closer to the screen.

“Didn’t want to do what, Christopher? Is it okay if I call you that? But I don’t mind calling you Dr. Gunson, if that’s what you prefer. A title of respect.”

“That’s my man,” Andrea murmured. “He always knows the best route to take.”

And in this case showing regard to a person feeling dejected was that route.

“Christopher is fine. Or Chris.”

“Okay, Chris. Tell me what you didn’t want to do.”

“I had gotten into financial trouble. Done too much online betting. Lost too much. I was about to lose my house. My practice. Everything.”

The crimes against Rosalyn hadn’t been of any financial gain, the opposite, in fact. He would probably lose money being away from his practice to follow the women.

Brandon had to know that, but he didn’t let it show. Instead he nodded. “So you did something you shouldn’t.”

“The transmitters. I knew they were wrong.”

Steve heard Rosalyn’s soft gasp at Gunson’s admission.

Gunson sat back in his seat, defeated. At least he wasn’t crying anymore. “I really don’t know much. I didn’t want to know what he was studying. I didn’t want to know how it worked or anything about the transmitters themselves.”

“Someone paid you to put transmitters in dental work.”

“He’s not the Watcher,” Rosalyn murmured.

Steve squeezed her shoulder, keeping his frustration at bay. He’d wanted this to be over. Wanted Rosalyn to be able to walk out of here completely free of the Watcher.

That wasn’t going to happen today unless Gunson had a lot more info than he was letting on.

“Who paid you, Chris?” Brandon leaned in toward the other man.

“I don’t know. I never met him face-to-face. About six years ago I was really in deep with some loan sharks. They were going to break my fingers.”

Gunson looked at Brandon as if that explained everything. Brandon gestured for him to continue.

“So when a man approached me and said he was doing some unorthodox experimentation and needed me to put some transmitters into crowns, I finally broke down and did it.”

“How many transmitters have you put in in those six years, Chris?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s lying about that,” Andrea said. “Everything else he’s been telling the truth about. But about this he’s lying.”

“How do you know he’s lying?” Rosalyn asked.

“The way he looked down and to the left.”

“I didn’t even see him look anywhere.” Rosalyn leaned closer to the screen.

“Andrea is very good at what she does, sweetheart. Don’t feel bad—I didn’t see it either.”

“Brandon did,” Andrea murmured. “I can tell.”

Brandon leaned in toward Gunson. “Chris, this is only going to work if we’re honest with each other. I think you know how many transmitters you put in patients’ mouths. That’s not something you would forget.”

“Twenty-nine,” Gunson finally responded. “All women. Over six years. He paid me $10,000 for each one.”

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