Chapter 36
JEREMIAH
Riding south toward the ranch felt like riding straight into a headwind.
Everything in me screamed to turn around, to hunker down in the mountains with Lennon until the danger had passed.
Whatever was waiting for us back at the ranch, I’d rather take my chances out here with the mountain lions.
Mountain lions might have teeth the size of my thumb, but at least they weren’t evil postcard-writing motherfuckers.
I glanced back over my shoulder for the twentieth time since we had started down the trail.
There was no reason for me to believe that Lennon was anywhere other than right behind me.
I could hear the steady clip-clop of Indigo’s hooves on the dirt, for fuck’s sake.
But still, I couldn’t stop myself from checking, just to be sure.
“We’re almost there, aren’t we?” Lennon called. “I’m pretty sure I recognize that tree. The one that looks like it’s going for a run.”
I laughed at her description of the large evergreen with an arch hollowed out at the bottom of its trunk. “We should be back at the ranch in another ten minutes.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Someone would have called you if my stalker set the ranch on fire, right? No bloody rampages or anything like that in our absence?”
“Liam said everything’s been quiet since we left. Exactly what we expected to happen. The ranch isn’t his target. You are.”
“So are you.”
We didn’t say anything else the rest of the way home.
Lennon was uncharacteristically quiet as we untacked the horses. We set them free in the pasture and then headed straight for the lodge. Not taking any chances, I did a quick sweep of the apartment, even though I had left the door locked and there was no sign of a forced entry.
“Give me your phone, honey. We’re putting Life 360 on it. Should have done that days ago,” I muttered as she handed it over.
“You, too,” she snapped.
My eyebrows went up. “What’s going on, Lennon? Twenty-four hours ago, you were ready to drag this jackass out of hiding by his ball sack.”
“I’m scared, Jay. I’m scared he’s going to go after you instead of me. Last night changed things. I don’t know how to explain it, but the thought of something happening to you makes me…” She swallowed, blinking. “I don’t care if you’re a SEAL. I need to know you’re safe.”
I had to bite back a grin as I pulled her into my arms. Of course I didn’t like Lennon being scared, but I had to admit it felt good that she cared so much.
“All right. Whatever you want.” The tension eased from her muscles somewhat, but there was still that worried crease between her eyebrows.
I smoothed it with my lips. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that.” She leaned into me. “I’m so sorry I got you into this mess.”
“I’m not.”
“What?”
“I’m not saying I’m glad there’s a psycho after you. I’m saying, consider the alternative. No stalker means you’d still be in New York. And I’d still be a virgin.” I nuzzled her neck, brushing my mustache right where she was ticklish. She squirmed and giggled, and I grinned.
“Now, that would be a shame,” she murmured. “That dick of yours is too good to waste on celibacy.”
“I’m glad you think so, honey.”
Just as I finished getting our phones set up with the tracking app, my phone buzzed with a text from Holly.
Holly:
Ducky is ready to talk when you are.
Ducky—who everyone else knew as Ciaran Doyle—had been one of Holly’s university professors long ago, but he also moonlighted as a consultant with the FBI.
Profiling was his specialty. Particularly psychopaths.
Before Lennon and I had headed out yesterday, Holly had suggested reaching out to him and getting his take on who we might be dealing with.
I typed a quick message back.
Me:
Meet me at the office in five minutes. Bring Mateo.
Sliding my phone into my back pocket, I glanced up to find Lennon watching me shrewdly.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Holly and Mateo are waiting for me.” I handed her phone back to her. “Stay here. Take a shower. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She glanced at the time on her phone. “I might go down to the kitchen and help Cecily and Amos clean up from lunch after I take a quick shower. I feel bad that I left yesterday without telling either of them I wouldn’t be there this morning.”
I didn’t like the idea of her leaving the apartment without me, but the kitchen was still in the lodge, and Amos and Cecily would be with her. “You’ll keep your location on and text me if anything feels weird. No matter how silly. Got it?”
“Got it.” She rolled up on her toes and kissed me. “And the same goes for you, so don’t you forget it. Don’t go anywhere by yourself.”
“Understood.” I dropped another kiss on her upturned face. “I love you, Lennon.”
Mateo and Holly were already talking to Ciaran on Holly’s laptop when I pushed into the office. It looked like he was calling from his house in Seattle. I could see the Puget Sound shimmering out the window.
I scooted a chair between Holly and Mateo so I could see the screen. “Ciaran. Thanks for helping us. I know this isn’t the kind of case that usually interests you.” Ciaran was highly educated, extremely intelligent, and easily bored.
He pushed his shaggy gray hair off his forehead and smiled.
“Anything for Holly, of course. I must say, I’m surprised you haven’t had much luck.
Given Ms. Graves’s choice of profession, and her particular style in that profession, I’d say you’re looking for a white male, aged thirty-five to fifty, unmarried.
” He arched an eyebrow. “I hate to state the obvious, but have you looked into her subscribers? I’m sure a man of Mateo’s talents should have no trouble with that. ”
I glanced at Mateo. He shook his head. “We’re looking for someone with ties to the ranch, or at least fifty miles of here. All her male subs check out.”
“The postcards don’t give us much to go on, either. It’s a shame she didn’t keep the others.” Ciaran adjusted his glasses. “What can Ms. Graves tell us? Does she remember anything unique about them?”
“Nothing unique,” I said. “Lennon said the postcards seemed friendly at first. She didn’t consider it stalking until they took a turn in tone and kept showing up even when she moved.”
“When did the tone shift occur?”
“Anytime she was dating someone. He’d tell her she made bad choices when it came to men.”
That got Ciaran’s attention. He leaned forward, tilting his head. “Bad choices? That was the phrase he used?”
“According to Lennon.”
“He didn’t call her a slut? Anything like that?”
“Lennon didn’t mention it.”
“Then he didn’t.” Ciaran steepled his fingers. “Interesting.”
“How so?” Holly asked.
“Well, it changes everything, doesn’t it? You’re not looking for a lonely middle-aged white man. You’re looking for someone lonely, yes. Unmarried, I stand by that. Likely doesn’t have children or other family, either. But you’re not looking for a man.”
My eyes narrowed.
“You’re looking for a woman.”