based on what she saw. Pete and Connie could be perfectly happy even though they seemed different in every way. The only thing Nikki was sure of was that there was no squirrel in their house. Something had chased those two out fast enough that running to Nikki’s place was a better choice than staying in the house with Pete.
Nikki was reminded of a documentary she’d once watched on killer whales. The cameraman had filmed a seal jumping into the research boat to escape the attack from its predator, the whale. The seal’s fear of humans was less than its fear of the whale and weighing that out, had chosen the boat. In this instance, Connie and Tony were the seals.
With her back to the wall and Elvis beside her, she read Shakespeare’s latest letter:
My Dearest One,
Why have you forsaken me? I am in waiting for your return. Or are you close and teasing me? Have you followed Quinn to Seattle, my love?
Wherever you are, you must return and we must finish this. You will succumb. Your blood will run freely over my trembling body.
The courses of true love never did run smooth.
Your Beloved
It was short, not as graphic as usual, and his words indicated that he was going to wait for her return to L.A. His question of her whereabouts was a good sign. Just as Nikki closed her laptop, her cell phone rang. Caller ID indicated a name she knew to be Agent Gateman.
“Nicole Crossland?” he asked.
“I got the letter, Ted, and it’s not as bad as all the others. Isn’t that a good sign?”
“Nikki, listen carefully. In the last hour, a man was apprehended on your property, and the local police have taken him into town for questioning. I’m sending someone to Louisa Lake.”
“Oh, God!” Nikki hadn’t locked the door or set the security alarm behind the Bayers. Running to the back door, she bolted it and punched in the numbers to the security system.
“It doesn’t mean we got Shakespeare,” the agent continued, “but a Caucasian male was coming through the trees from a parked rental car, big guy, 40ish, with a gun.”
“He was here at Louisa Lake, just now?”
“Affirmative.”
“And Harold caught him?” It didn’t seem possible. Harold was all doughy and smiles, close to retirement.
“Yes.”
Was that what the last hour was all about? Had Connie and Tony been threatened somehow with someone who was coming through the trees? “I saw the police car pass my house.” Nikki was frozen to her spot, imagining what could have just happened. The only way Harold Gaines could take down a man running through the woods was if the stalker was in worse shape. “Did Harold shoot him?”
“No shots fired.”
Agent Gateman took another call, and Nikki waited. Pete must’ve been the brawn in that operation. What the hell?
“I recommend you get a bodyguard, Nikki, until we verify the identity of the perpetrator. I’ll get in touch, within the hour. And don’t open your door to anyone until you talk to me.”
When the call came from Gateman twenty minutes later, Nikki and Elvis were sitting in the great room, waiting to hear the rest of the story, her handgun on the table in front of her. Nikki hadn’t expected what came next.
“Nicole Crossland?”
“Hi, Ted. What’s going on?” She imagined the FBI team searching a stinking North Hollywood hovel, sifting through incriminating evidence, thumbing through photos of her and copies of the horrific letters Shakespeare had written her.
“This is Agent Gate—”
“What’s happening?”
“Do you know a Dwayne Capleoni?”
She froze. “Yes, he’s my daughter’s bodyguard in Seattle.”
“He’s not in Seattle. He’s the man in the Louisa Lake jail right now, waiting to be questioned on charges of armed trespassing.”
****
Fuck. Living beside Goldy was not as safe as Pete had originally hoped. When the signal alerted him to a visitor on the road, he ran to the bedroom where all visible points of approach were being monitored. A black sedan drove
Nikki was reminded of a documentary she’d once watched on killer whales. The cameraman had filmed a seal jumping into the research boat to escape the attack from its predator, the whale. The seal’s fear of humans was less than its fear of the whale and weighing that out, had chosen the boat. In this instance, Connie and Tony were the seals.
With her back to the wall and Elvis beside her, she read Shakespeare’s latest letter:
My Dearest One,
Why have you forsaken me? I am in waiting for your return. Or are you close and teasing me? Have you followed Quinn to Seattle, my love?
Wherever you are, you must return and we must finish this. You will succumb. Your blood will run freely over my trembling body.
The courses of true love never did run smooth.
Your Beloved
It was short, not as graphic as usual, and his words indicated that he was going to wait for her return to L.A. His question of her whereabouts was a good sign. Just as Nikki closed her laptop, her cell phone rang. Caller ID indicated a name she knew to be Agent Gateman.
“Nicole Crossland?” he asked.
“I got the letter, Ted, and it’s not as bad as all the others. Isn’t that a good sign?”
“Nikki, listen carefully. In the last hour, a man was apprehended on your property, and the local police have taken him into town for questioning. I’m sending someone to Louisa Lake.”
“Oh, God!” Nikki hadn’t locked the door or set the security alarm behind the Bayers. Running to the back door, she bolted it and punched in the numbers to the security system.
“It doesn’t mean we got Shakespeare,” the agent continued, “but a Caucasian male was coming through the trees from a parked rental car, big guy, 40ish, with a gun.”
“He was here at Louisa Lake, just now?”
“Affirmative.”
“And Harold caught him?” It didn’t seem possible. Harold was all doughy and smiles, close to retirement.
“Yes.”
Was that what the last hour was all about? Had Connie and Tony been threatened somehow with someone who was coming through the trees? “I saw the police car pass my house.” Nikki was frozen to her spot, imagining what could have just happened. The only way Harold Gaines could take down a man running through the woods was if the stalker was in worse shape. “Did Harold shoot him?”
“No shots fired.”
Agent Gateman took another call, and Nikki waited. Pete must’ve been the brawn in that operation. What the hell?
“I recommend you get a bodyguard, Nikki, until we verify the identity of the perpetrator. I’ll get in touch, within the hour. And don’t open your door to anyone until you talk to me.”
When the call came from Gateman twenty minutes later, Nikki and Elvis were sitting in the great room, waiting to hear the rest of the story, her handgun on the table in front of her. Nikki hadn’t expected what came next.
“Nicole Crossland?”
“Hi, Ted. What’s going on?” She imagined the FBI team searching a stinking North Hollywood hovel, sifting through incriminating evidence, thumbing through photos of her and copies of the horrific letters Shakespeare had written her.
“This is Agent Gate—”
“What’s happening?”
“Do you know a Dwayne Capleoni?”
She froze. “Yes, he’s my daughter’s bodyguard in Seattle.”
“He’s not in Seattle. He’s the man in the Louisa Lake jail right now, waiting to be questioned on charges of armed trespassing.”
****
Fuck. Living beside Goldy was not as safe as Pete had originally hoped. When the signal alerted him to a visitor on the road, he ran to the bedroom where all visible points of approach were being monitored. A black sedan drove
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