Her Secret Life

ON MONDAY MORNING, Michael found another photo of Kacey. He’d been dreading the possibility, though he hadn’t told her, of course. If by chance the incident on the beach was related to the earlier photos, it stood to reason there’d be another one.

To his relief, the picture had not been taken in Santa Raquel. Or on a beach. It was on a street, in Beverly Hills, he discovered with very little research. Not far from her apartment.

The mention of a photo during her attack on the beach and the close proximity of this one to her home were enough for him to talk to one of his police contacts. Or rather, three of them. The beach incident was in Santa Raquel’s jurisdiction. The coffee shop in Beverly Hills. And the internet was the FBI. By the time he texted Kacey to call him as soon as she could, he’d made all three calls.

He expected to have to wait for her to have a break, but received her call back almost immediately. He’d just started his car, was still in his driveway before heading to the office, and took her call over his car system. He’d been out already that day, to drop Willie at school, and had come home to make the calls to law enforcement on her behalf.

“I thought you’d be on set,” he told her.

“Just off,” she told him. “But I’m due back in ten. What’s up?” She sounded matter-of-fact, and maybe a little bit out of breath, causing him to wonder if she’d been off camera but still on set when she’d received his text and gone somewhere private to talk.

For a brief second, it felt good to be that important to her. And then he came to his senses. He was a grown man and plenty important to a lot of people. Including Kacey Hamilton.

“Have you heard from your agent?”

“I had a call. I haven’t taken it yet. If the police report hit the news, I just don’t want to know. Not until I’m done working for the day. And then I’ll call you. First thing.”

“It’s not the police report, Kace.” She could stand up to his news. He knew she could. It was important that she did. “There’s been another photo. Taken less than a block from your condo. You’re standing but look like you’re unsteady. The caption’s more of the same.”

“What am I wearing?”

“Black leggings. Black long-sleeved Lycra top.” Skin showing between the two.

“And the headline?”

“In Kacey Hamilton’s World the Party is All Day Long.”

“Is Bo in it, too? Do I need to call him?”

“He is. A step or two behind you. Looks like he’s ready to catch you if you fall.”

“It was a couple of Sundays ago,” she told him. “We’d gone for breakfast. I had a headache and we were heading back to my place so I could lie down. I don’t remember him ever walking behind me. If he did, it was only for a second.”

Gone for breakfast as in they’d gotten up together and needed to eat? Or had it been a breakfast date?

Either scenario was viable. Either was fine.

And absolutely none of his damned business.

“It looks like you’d just crossed the street.” He knew she didn’t have much time. “I just wanted you to know. I’ve put this in the hands of the authorities, Kace. We can talk about details later, but in case you get a message, you needed to know what it was about.” He didn’t want to scare her. But she had to be aware. That photographer knew where she lived.

And the attacker on the beach had mentioned a photo...

“I’m not safe here, either, am I?”

He wanted to tell her yes. Opened his mouth to do so.

“I think you are,” he said. “Just be careful. Don’t be quite as trusting for a few days, okay?” He couldn’t believe he was saying that to her. Helping to put out her light. “There’s no reason to believe anyone is going to come after you. I just don’t want you going anywhere alone in the dark.”

“Don’t worry,” she said with an un-Kacey-like bitterness to her chuckle. “There’s no danger of that.”

Good. Then his job was done here.

“Michael?”

“Yeah?”

“I needed to hear your voice this morning. Even if the news wasn’t great, I’m glad you called.”