Page 32 of Stalked

“Rosalyn—”

“You know what? I don’t even blame you. You’re right to be wary. Hopefully that will keep you alive longer.”

Steve tried to figure out how to undo the damage his words had done.

She laid her seat back, still facing away from him. “We’ve got a long drive ahead. If you don’t mind, I’m going to rest now so I can take a driving shift later. It’ll make it easier on everyone.”

He wasn’t sure if she meant sleeping now would make it easier or driving later would do so. Clarifying would just make it worse, so he decided to let it go.

He knew she hadn’t been coming to find him for money. For physical security, yes, but not money.

He shouldn’t have said what he had. Even if he did still mistrust her. She hadn’t given him much reason to trust her, truth be told.

Some of that he could alleviate right now. He knew Rosalyn was asleep, so he called his office.

“Cynthia,” he said to his assistant by way of greeting. “I need everything you can give me about Rosalyn Mellinger. And anything you can find on Jim and Cheryl Ammons. North Georgia.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll need you to call me back and read it to me. There’s been a change of plans. We’re driving from Pensacola back to HQ.”

“That’s quite a trek.”

“Couldn’t stay in Pensacola any longer. Had two attempts on our lives in under twelve hours.” Steve explained about the driver and fire.

“Damn, boss. Do you want me to redirect an Omega plane to you? Or send Liam or one of the guys out to meet you for protection?”

“No, I got rid of how he was tracking us. We should be fine now. We’ll stop at a hotel tonight, but I should be in the office by tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’ll make sure Joe has all the party paraphernalia gone by then.”

Steve snickered. Joe Matarazzo was the team’s hostage negotiator and was known for his partying. Or had been until his wife, Laura, reined him in a few months ago.

Rosalyn hadn’t budged during his entire conversation. Her breathing hadn’t changed; there’d been no sudden tension to make him think she was awake. She was exhausted. She’d barely gotten any sleep before the fire had awakened them again.

She was still sound asleep two hours later when Jon Hatton, one of Omega’s best profilers and Steve’s personal friend, called him back.

“Hey, boss, Cynthia and I have been gathering the info you wanted.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Rosalyn Mellinger, twenty-four years old. Daughter of Crystal Mellinger and twin sister to Lindsey Rose. Hey, I see what the mom did there with the names—”

“Yeah, already got that, Jon. Keep going.”

“No father listed on the birth certificate. Arrested as a teenager for shoplifting. That’s where her prints are from and that sealed juvenile record was a bitch to get opened. But that little run-in with the law must have scared her straight because she’s been straight as an arrow as an adult. Went to college, became an accountant. Worked every day until the day she quit. Not even a parking ticket.”

Steve glanced over at Rosalyn, still asleep. “Okay.”

“Sister has been in and out of juvie rehabs, then adult versions since her mid-teens. No college, barely finished high school. The mom is pretty much a deadbeat also. Alcoholic. Lives on welfare.”

Okay, so no family support for Rosalyn. That explained why she’d been on the run by herself for a year.

“In the last few months Rosalyn’s name has been mentioned in multiple police reports, all over the Southeast and Texas. She’s been talking to them about a stalker, but nothing has come of any of the investigations. Nobody has been taking her seriously.”

“Well, I’m taking her seriously now, Jon. Someone nearly killed us twice in the last day.”

“I’ll see what I can dig up on the reports.”

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