CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jack
“I’m not going to lie to you, Jack. This shit isn’t great,” Reynolds ran a hand through his usually perfect blond hair. It was still wet, making it clear he’d finished up with Nadine, taken a shower, and hurried over.
His best friend and bodyguard, Byron, a tall, strongly built Black man, stood next to him, and the sheriff, a white guy named Tate Richards, leaned against a wall, looking through a box full of the notes Daisy had kept.
“She’s got more than one stalker,” he said abruptly, and I broke out in a cold sweat.
How did he know? Was he psychic or something?
“Or one stalker trying to throw people off his trail,” he amended, looking between two notes. “Look at these.”
Reynolds stalked over to his side, staring at the notes.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying not to show I’d been nervous, but as I looked up, I met Byron’s eyes. He had a slight frown on his face, and I wondered what he was thinking as he watched me. He opened his mouth, about to ask me something, when Reynolds interrupted.
“Come here, Jack.”
I walked over and he put the two notes in my hand. I looked at them, read them, and then looked back at him questioningly. “What am I looking for?”
“Pretty girl.”
“What?” What the hell was he talking about?
“Pretty girl,” he said again, poking one of the notes.
I re-read them both, and realized one of the notes called her Daisy, while the other one called her ‘pretty girl’. “Yeah, so?”
The sheriff sighed. “You know the murders that have been happening with more and more frequency over the past few years?”
“Um… maybe?” I didn’t really keep up with the news, but I vaguely remembered that a woman who’d worked for the Salazars had been killed the previous winter.
Reynolds and the sheriff exchanged a quick look.
“We haven’t reported this to the media, but in several of the cases we’ve found notes either on the bodies or in the homes of the women.
They were all addressed ‘pretty girl’ just like these,” the sheriff said, holding up the vast majority of the notes in Daisy’s box.
“The rest of these are addressed directly to her. So, if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say she has two stalkers.
And one of them is really fucking dangerous. ”
So she had three stalkers? What were the odds?
Shit. My hands were sweaty. For two reasons. One of Daisy’s stalkers was dangerous. Maybe a killer. And? What would they say if they knew she had three stalkers? And I was one of them?
“What do we do?” I asked hoarsely.
Reynolds paced around the condo, and I was glad Daisy wasn’t here for this discussion.
Nadine, who’d arrived with Reynolds, had insisted they swing by Cinnamon House for lunch and to hang out with their friends.
“I haven’t been over since we got back from the Bahamas,” she’d said.
“You can see how much better I am at driving now.” She’d winked at Daisy, who’d looked mildly uncomfortable at the thought of Nadine driving them.
But Daisy had been happy enough to leave and let friends distract her from thinking about her stalker for a few hours.
She’d told the sheriff she’d tried to report it and the officer she’d been assigned to had blown her off once he’d found out she worked for the Salazars. The sheriff’s face had looked like a thundercloud, and he’d assured her he’d find out the name of that officer.
She obviously hadn’t wanted to get anyone in trouble, but we’d all told her sometimes it was for the best.
The sheriff had told Nadine and Daisy not to tell anyone about the stalkers.
“Jelly knows,” Daisy confessed. “But none of the other girls do.”
Nadine bit her lip. “What if they’re in danger?”
The sheriff exchanged a glance with Byron, who was a highly trained security expert. He worked for a private firm owned by his father and was in charge of Reynolds’ detail. Which was great for Reynolds. He, Byron, and Nico had been best friends since they’d gone to boarding school together as kids.
“I’ll have a patrol car cycle through Estates at South every so often,” Sheriff Richards said.
“What do you think, Jack?”
I looked up quickly, caught stuck in my thoughts. Reynolds was staring at me. “About?”
“Byron watching over Daisy for a while until maybe we can come up with a plan to catch this guy.”
I glanced at the incredibly handsome man, a little cowed by his height and build.
He was a formidable guy. I was not thrilled to have someone who looked like he did hanging out with my Daisy.
But I was worried about her. And I knew he was the best or he wouldn’t be working with Reynolds. “I’d be grateful for that.”
“What about you, Mr. Mayor?”
“Cut that shit out, Tate. You know you can call me Reynolds. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m technically still on my honeymoon. I’ll be laid up at home with Nadine for the next couple of weeks. Hopefully, if we’re lucky, y’all will get a bead on this guy in that amount of time.”
“That’d be great,” Byron said. He turned to me. “I’ll tail Daisy around campus and anywhere else she goes for the next couple of weeks. I’ll do my best to blend in, but…” he kind of shrugged and gave a sheepish smile.
“What? You don’t think you blend?” Reynolds laughed. “It could be the Secret Service style suits… or the whole six-five, muscles for days, thing.”
“You’ll have your pick of the college girls,” Tate grinned at him.
Byron gave him a ‘get serious’ look. “I’m not after college girls. I like my women mature.”
Reynolds got a gleam in his eye. “He likes his women to be about this tall,” he held up his hand to about chest height, “with long, black hair, a body that won’t quit, a big brain, and an even bigger attitude. Oh, and her last name has to be Salazar.”
“Fuck off, man,” Byron cracked a smile, though, to take the sting out of the words.
Byron and Carmen, I thought, looking at Reynolds’ friend and security detail. They would make a good pair. I wondered, briefly, if she knew he was interested in her. She didn’t seem like the settling down type to me.
And Byron gave off those vibes.
“So, do we tell her you’ll be watching over her?” I asked.
Byron nodded. “I don’t want to scare her and make her think I’m her stalker.
When she gets back, we’ll talk to her about how it will go down.
Basically, I’ll just follow her around and look for any clues I can pick up on.
” He turned to Tate Richards. “And, Sheriff, this should give you time to figure out everything you can about her stalker. Or stalkers.”
“On it.” Richards looked at his watch. “I’ve gotta go. But I’ll keep y’all in the loop about anything I find.”
What would he find? I wondered. I didn’t think there was much of a chance that they would figure out I had been lightly stalking her.
At least I hoped they wouldn’t.