Twisted (Burbank and Parker 1)

“No, you shouldn’t butt out. It’s about you.” Derek raised his head to meet her gaze. He didn’t look or sound happy. “That was the analyst I had checking out your phone records to figure out where your ‘unavailable’ calls were coming from, and who your mystery caller is. Seems the calls are being made from two separate cell phones. Both disposable. Both currently turned off. Clearly, your stalker doesn’t want to be traced.”

“Not a shock. What else?”

“The timing and the escalation of the calls. They started at dawn on Monday, along with your sense of being watched. They’ve been increasing in number ever since. Yesterday afternoon took the prize. Nineteen calls. Most of which were made while you were at Stockton.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been harassed. It’s happened a couple of times, usually while I was consulting on a high-profile case. Remember, the Bureau protects you by keeping your name out of the media. That doesn’t work with me. I’m a private consultant.”

“What high-profile cases are you consulting on?”

“Several. Some ongoing, some recently completed. Some involving law enforcement, some not. That’s all I can tell you. My client list is confidential.”

“Which ones have you taken on most recently—like in the past week or two?” Derek demanded. “Cases that have resulted in your name showing up in the newspapers, which makes them public record?”

Sloane inclined her head thoughtfully. “I’m helping the NYPD in their search for Cynthia Alexander, the missing John Jay student. The whole campus is crawling with media because of her disappearance. I’ve been mentioned in the papers because of that. Oh, and I was also mentioned because I spoke at a Crimes Against Women seminar at John Jay the day before Cynthia went missing. Then, of course, there’s the Truman case, cold as it is. Ronald Truman is a renowned cardiologist and author. He’s been pretty vocal about the fact that we’ve uncovered new leads on Penny’s disappearance, and about the fact that he’s hired me and elicited the full cooperation of the FBI.”

“Let’s see.” Derek counted off on his fingers. “A seminar about women and crime. Two missing persons cases—both involving women. Both unsolved. Both with lots of media attention. And both with you right in the middle of them. Not a coincidence in my book.”

Sloane paused. “Nor mine. Not when you sum it up that way. So maybe my harasser spotted my name in print. Maybe whatever he read either turned him on or pissed him off. Probably the latter. There are still lots of chauvinists out there.”

“You’re assuming this guy is just some media hound or a wack job who gets his thrills out of scaring the shit out of notable women he finds in the newspaper by following them around and barraging them with crank calls?”

“I’m not an idiot, Derek. I realize this is personal. And that this guy is probably unstable and could be gearing up to go after me physically, not just call or watch me from a distance. That’s why I wanted to nip his calls in the bud. But, as I said, I have a lot of clients. So I didn’t connect the dots the same way you did.”

“You’re still not connecting them. You’re classifying this guy as some warped outsider. Did it ever occur to you that he’s an insider—one who’s personally involved in a case you’re working on? That he’s targeted you as a threat that needs to be eliminated, either by scaring you off, or worse? Remember, you’re a lot more vulnerable to an attack than the police or the FBI.”

“Good point.” Rather than worry, a glint of hope lit Sloane’s eyes. “If we follow your theory, that opens up a whole new realm of possibilities—particularly since most of the missed calls came yesterday while I was at Richard Stockton. My anonymous caller must have spent the better part of the day focused on me and what I was doing—which was investigating Penny’s case. What if that’s the case he’s connected to? What if he’s following me because the Trumans brought me in to work with you to solve it? It would fit your theory. If this jerk’s done his homework, he knows I’m good at what I do. He also knows that Penny and I were close friends. Close enough that I might figure out something before the authorities do. His increased activity yesterday means he feels threatened—which could work in our favor.”

“Except for one small detail. Your safety.” Derek was scowling. “You just said it yourself. He’s probably not going to limit himself to telephone calls and random drop-bys to freak you out. He’s already stalking you, maybe even leaving you little warning messages—like the nail in your tire. He’s getting bolder, more aggressive.”

“And, hopefully in the process, more careless.”

“His next step will be direct contact.”

“Good. Maybe we can jump the gun and lure him out.”

“Forget it. We’re not using you as bait.”

Sloane said nothing. And that said everything.

“Sloane.” Derek’s voice held a warning note.

She blew out a breath. “Let’s save the knock-down, drag-out fight for when, and if, it’s necessary. Right now it’s not. Changing the topic, what time is our meeting with Tom McGraw? And when will my car be ready?”

“We’re meeting Tom at eleven-thirty at the diner down the road. He’s at Stockton now, picking up whatever they’ve pulled together so far. And your car should be ready by now. We can give the gas station a call to confirm, then drive down to pick it up. That’ll still give us enough time before the meeting with Tom to call Verizon and arrange for a call block on those two phone numbers.”

“Nice try,” Sloane returned drily. “But forget it. Change in plans, thanks to your astute theory. I don’t want to shut this guy down. Or, more importantly, tip him off. If we do, he might go back into hiding before we can find out who he is and what he knows. No way I’m letting that happen. Not when he might be connected to Penny’s disappearance. Her case has been cold for almost a year. This might be our best shot at solving it.”

“Maybe. But it’s not our only shot. Plus, we’re not even sure if this is the case your stalker is involved in.”

“The odds are good. The case might be old, but my involvement is new. An ex–FBI agent, a childhood friend of the victim, a personal agenda to get the guilty party—I raise quite a red flag. More like a banner.”

“Fine.” Derek was visibly pissed. “All the more reason for you to be careful. Who knows what this guy’s planning for you—and when? I repeat what I said earlier—we’re not using you as bait.”

“I can take care of myself, Derek.”

“I’m well aware of that.” He folded his arms across his chest in that military stance he reserved for times like this. “But circumstances are different now. You ca

n’t carry a gun.”