“Yes?”
“Can I talk to you a minute?”
“Do I know you?” Gabrielle asked.
“Who is it?” Derek asked from inside the SUV.
She held up one finger to stall his question.
The young woman shook her head. “No, you don’t know me. I used to be Mary Perkins’s assistant before I quit. You’re Gabrielle Donovan, the author, right?”
Gabrielle nodded. She was glad she’d already opened the door and Derek was within hearing distance if she had to yell for help.
“How did you know I was here?” Gabrielle asked.
The woman glanced around warily. “I’ve been following you since you left the house this morning. I was just waiting for the right time to approach you.”
A chill raced through her and Gabrielle rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms. “What can I do for you?” This woman didn’t strike Gabrielle as a stalker, nor did Gabrielle think the woman wanted an autograph.
“It’s more what I can do for you. Here. Take this.” She held an envelope out to Gabrielle.
She accepted it warily. “What is it?”
The woman shook her head. “You’ll see. I only ask one favor.”
Gabrielle tipped her head to one side. “What is it?”
“Forget you ever met me.” She started to walk away, then turned. “Good luck,” she whispered, then crossed the parking lot and disappeared behind a row of cars.
Gabrielle climbed into the SUV, shut her door and hit the door-lock button as quickly as possible.
“What was that all about?” Derek asked.
She inhaled a deep breath. “Just a fan,” she said pointedly to Derek, wanting to wait until Holly was out of earshot.
He nodded.
Meanwhile, she opened the note, but the only thing on the paper inside was a name.
A name she didn’t recognize.
SHARON TWISTED HER HANDS together. The closer she and Richard got to Tony’s apartment, the more nervous she became. It was one thing for her to stalk Tony from a distance. It was another to confront him, face-to-face, with her fiancé by her side.
And that was Richard’s plan.
They still weren’t on the best of terms. His disappointment about what he called her lack of faith in him was clear. At the same time, she’d called their sex life and compatibility into question. Their issues were now, officially, out in the open.
But before they did anything else, they had to get to the bottom of the blackmail threat first. They could worry about whether they still had a relationship to save later.
When they got to the apartment and found nobody home, a neighbor helped them out by informing them she’d just seen the entire family depart for the playground behind the building. Sharon and Richard headed there next.
Sharon slowed as they approached the chain-link fence that surrounded a swing set. Mothers gathered around their toddlers, and a couple sat together on the bench by the sandbox.
“Tony,” she whispered, pointing to the bench.
“That’s him?”
She nodded.