All Murders Final! by Sherry Harris Page B

asked.
    â€œOkay,” I said. “I’ll follow you home.”
    â€œYou won’t change your mind?”
    â€œNo. You can follow me, if you don’t trust me.”
    Seth laughed but then turned serious. “I trust you, Sarah. But I want you to trust me.”
    * * *
    The sun was shining when I pulled into my parking space beside my apartment Thursday morning. I trotted up the steps and was heading up to my apartment when my phone chimed. I shook my head. Seth had sent me three photos of himself with sad faces as I drove home. I waved at a big guy sitting on a small folding chair outside of Mike’s apartment as I pulled up the picture. It was of me walking into the apartment building and was rimmed with a black heart. Same outfit as last night was written across it.

Chapter 14
    I must have gasped, because the big guy stood. “Everything okay, miss? Mike said to keep an eye on you.”
    I looked at him but didn’t really see him. “I’m fine. Thanks.” I didn’t know if having a mobster keeping an eye on me was a good thing or not. I unlocked my apartment door and ran to the window that looked out over the town common. No one was out there lurking with a camera. No one stood there with a phone pointing this way. I saw Mike running around the town common with a brother on either side of him. He looked up and waved. Maybe he’d seen something.
    I ran back out not even bothering to lock my door, yet alone close it. I figured the big guy would make sure no one went in. I bounded down the steps, burst out the door, and jogged after Mike as fast as I could in my boots. “Mike, guys, wait a minute,” I yelled.
    They turned and jogged back over to me.
    â€œDid you see anyone out here taking a picture of me?”
    â€œNaw,” Mike said. “But when we’re back behind the church, we can’t see nothin’.”
    â€œYou got a problem we can help you with?” the taller brother asked.
    â€œNo. Thanks.” I was pretty sure I didn’t need their kind of help.
    * * *
    I took my time showering, blow-drying my hair, and putting on my makeup. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I knew I had a stalker. It all added up: the picture of me at Margaret’s house, the creepy comments about my outfits, and the photo today. Thinking about it made me want to take another shower. I knew I should tell the police about the photo from this morning and probably about the other ones, too.
    Explaining this morning’s photo meant admitting I’d spent the night with Seth. And I didn’t want CJ to know. I puzzled over that for a few minutes. On the one hand, it was because I wouldn’t want to know if CJ had slept with someone, but on the other, I knew I felt slightly guilty about doing it. I was an adult, but I didn’t want to hurt Seth or myself or CJ. I’d jumped the gun with Seth. Again. Why was it so easy to say yes to him and so hard to say no?
    I shook my head. With Mike next door to me and his brothers sitting out in the hall, I didn’t have to worry about being attacked in my home. I’d be extra cautious when I was out and about. The person who had taken the photo of me at Margaret’s house either was the killer—gulp, I hoped I was wrong about that—or knew who the killer was, which wasn’t a much better option but was a little more comforting than the first. So if I figured that out, I would know who the stalker was and could end this.
    I wondered if the stalker had any connection to my virtual garage sale site. I grabbed my computer and opened the site. For once everything seemed to be in order, although I had a few messages to go through.
    The first one complained about people advertising their businesses on the site. The person reminded me that this was a buy-sell site and not a job site. Frankly, if someone wanted to mention his or her business, as long as it was legal and was advertised on a