Chapter Fourteen
Riglan
When I came up from focusing on the old tablet, I realized my mouth was parched. It felt weird to work on the first floor. I’d set the office up when I moved in as a home office never intended to be used. With the lair downstairs, who needed it?
My neighbors all knew I worked “remotely,” but they didn’t know what I actually did. If I ran into any of them when collecting the mail or getting in my car, and they asked how work was going, I said fine or same old grind or whatever trite saying came to mind. Did they wonder what I did remotely?
Probably. If they could keep me around long enough, they’d offer a lot of information about their own jobs. In this neighborhood, there were a lot of financial people and doctors, lawyers, all professionals so far as I could tell. Would they consider me a professional if they knew what I did?
Hard to say. If they needed me, yes. Otherwise, they might feel an unsavory element resided in the neighborhood. Not something I wanted to have them thinking.
But it was kind of fun, working in my decoy office.
It had everything I needed for most of my work, and I could easily deal with Malone’s little problem without having to go downstairs.
Maybe I should start to work up here when I could, really make it appear as if I was a busy bee, visible through the window working away.
The idea amused me.
But in this case, I didn’t have time for amusement.
There was an omega human watching a movie in the next room, counting on me to save him from whatever this stalker had in mind.
I worked my way through his tablet, a device he had not used in some time, or even charged.
In fact, he hadn’t been able to find the charger, and I’d had to make a quick sneak trip downstairs to find one that would work.
Since he had not been in it, it encapsulated a picture of the stalker’s messages and actions earlier in the timeline.
At first, they could almost have been random, by someone pretending that they had knowledge of the omega and his life.
Vague comments. No images stolen from his social media even.
If I’d seen only this part, I’d have sworn that he truly was just a random who got his kicks out of bothering strangers.
It happened. Far more often than people realized, and I wished it was the case here. Of course, even going in, I knew better than that. Having reviewed everything the tablet could tell me, I picked up the laptop and moved over to one of the comfortable chairs opposite the desk.
I often worked late into the night, and always was alone. That was a big part of why I’d sent Malone into the living room to watch TV. I wasn’t sure how well I’d be able to work with the distraction.
But no matter the wall between us, I could hear the low murmur of the speakers and an occasional laugh. Rather than be an irritation, which I’d have expected, it was calming, helped my thoughts to flow more freely.
The omega was good for me. I enjoyed the sense of peace that came from having him in my home.
We can keep him. My ferret again.
No, we cannot keep a person. He’s here for our help and then we release him back into the wild.
That image, like the movie about the lioness my omega dad liked to put on when I was a kid, made my lips twitch with suppressed laughter.
He has free will. Which brought to mind another movie, but I quickly refocused.
With every passing moment, the picture came more together.
Around the time Malone stopped using the tablet, the stalker had changed their tone.
They never seemed to have gained access to the first device, since I saw no sign of any of the photos or files stored on it.
In fact, I couldn’t see any evidence that they were even aware of who they were tormenting. It was all so generic.
But when Malone started using the laptop regularly, that all changed.
His taunts included information that at first might have come from social media, but clearly was directed at the omega.
He lifted photographs and journal entries and used them in the most cruel ways.
Mentioned things from Malone’s past as if he’d been present.
At some point, I had become convinced the stalker was male.
I could be wrong, but the wording and choices made had that feel.
Still, I couldn’t allow assumptions to color my research.
They might be deliberately trying to give that impression.
I hadn’t even made it to the phone when I decided to take a break. I already had a lot to process, and with the burner, Malone would have a phone to use until such time as I could clean the one he had, if possible, or start him fresh.
I stood and stretched. It had been several hours, and my neck was kinked—again.
Hazard of the job. But I felt good about what I’d learned so far.
Malone’s stalker definitely knew who he was now, whether he had at the beginning or not, and he was spending an increasing amount of time each day playing his little game.
But why?
If he hadn’t known who he was to start with, did he have a lot of victims? If he had a job and a life, he probably wouldn’t have time for more than Malone, would he?
So, I had a theory going at this point that he’d started out just as a random victim, maybe one of a few, but the stalker had focused on him now. And that was a very unsafe situation.
The TV still flickered in the living room, but when I went in, I found Malone curled up on the sofa, eyes closed, chest rising and falling softly.
My throat swelled with an emotion I dared not name.
Malone had shown no interest in me beyond helping him out of a difficult situation, and it wasn’t fair for me to put my feelings on him if they were not returned.
I unfolded a throw from the back of the sofa and tucked it around him then sat down and watched him sleep for a little while.
It was nice having him here. I only wished it weren’t because he was being threatened. It would be unkind in the extreme for me to take advantage of him. So, I fell asleep in the armchair near the omega, but I never laid a hand or an emotion on him.
Seemed like this hacker’s heart was not hard after all.