Someone To Watch Over Me (7 page)

“Ms. Kennedy, I'm Susan Hoffman, the
producer.” She turned to Shawn with an appraising gaze. “And you
are?”

“This is Shawn,” Morgan replied before he
could speak. “He's a friend who has volunteered to drive me
today.”

“Okay.” Susan studied him as if not
convinced.

Because Morgan didn’t want to introduce him
in the role of a bodyguard, Shawn played along. He extended his
hand out to her. “Susan, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Welcome to KDEZ,” she replied. “Follow me
please.”

Susan swiped her security badge at the door
and opened it for Morgan and Shawn. Once inside she led them down a
maze of hallways toward the set. Morgan stopped occasionally to
study the pictures of the reporters and news anchors hanging on the
wall. After she stopped for the third time, he leaned in and
whispered, “Have you taped a television interview before?”

Morgan shot him a nervous look. “No. This is
my first time.”

Susan cleared her throat. The couple looked
up to find she’d stopped and waited for them to catch up.

“Sorry,” Morgan said as she scurried up to
the woman.

The producer ushered them into a room which
had chairs with mirrors in front of them and were lit with a large
bank of lights. “Please take a seat and Liz will do your make
up.”

Morgan had a puzzled expression on her face
but sat down without comment. Shawn stepped back and leaned on the
wall behind the chair. A middle-aged woman quickly placed a light
smock around Morgan's neck and reached for her makeup.

“I have make-up on,” Morgan said.

“You've done a lovely job but with the bright
lights you'll wash out. Don't be concerned. Even though I'm adding
more you won't appear overdone in front of the camera. When you're
finished, come back and I'll tone things down.”

“Okay.” Morgan smiled and then held still
while the makeup artist applied additional blush, powder and
accentuated her eyes and lips.

Shawn watched the makeup lady as she worked
on Morgan and déjà vu settled in. What his client didn’t know was
actresses almost always arrived on set without any hairstyling or
makeup on so they were a blank canvas to work on.

Over the years, he had seen stars and models
considered bombshells, and without the ‘Hollywood magic’ most of
them wouldn't get a second glance in a crowded bar on a Saturday
night.

When she was done, Morgan and Shawn were
guided to the set. Shawn stood behind the cameraman, scanned the
surroundings, and waited. He'd never been at this station before
but had been at several other ones and they all seemed alike. Space
was at a premium and each square foot had a purpose. Each wall held
monitors so every camera angle whether sports or weather was simply
a few footsteps away. Morgan spoke and he glanced over. She'd
chatted with the reporter while the camera and lighting set up was
finalized. Then the interview started and within forty minutes they
were walking out of the station and back to his SUV.

“Morgan, you had a great interview.” Shawn
said as they walked to his vehicle.

She smiled. “You think so? I've never done
this before.”

“I'm sure you'll be pleased when you watch
it.”

“Thanks.”

As they approached the SUV, Shawn spied a
white note stuck under the wind shield wiper on the driver's side
which fluttered in the breeze. He opened the door and Morgan slid
in.

“Looks like you parked in someone's space,”
Morgan said.

Shawn pulled the note off the windshield and
glanced down. The simple blocky handwriting had a childlike quality
but the message was short and to the point.
Stay away from
her.

“What the hell.” He yanked his sunglasses off
and surveyed the parking lot. His eyes paused and his heart skipped
a beat as he spied a maroon car in the far end. He took a few steps
forward and stopped when he realized the model wasn't a Honda.

“Shawn?” Morgan's voice came behind him.
She'd stepped out of the vehicle and walked toward him.

“Get back in the SUV,” he ordered.

“What's wrong?”

He didn't answer and continued to survey the
parking lot.

“My stalker left it, right?” Morgan
asked.

What should he tell her? They've been tailed
and he hadn't picked up on it? His slip-up pissed him off and now
he wasn't sure how Morgan would handle his reply.

“Shawn, what did the note say?”

He spun around. Morgan stood a few feet from
him. “Don’t you know how to follow instructions?” he growled as he
strode up, grabbed her arm, and marched her back to the
vehicle.

“Hey.” She protested.

“In.” He practically shoved her into the
passenger seat. As he attempted to close the door, she stiff-armed
the inside arm rest and pushed back. “He left a note for me. What
did he say?”

Concern graced her face but the expression in
her eyes stopped him. They say the eyes are the mirror to the soul,
but he didn't believe that. Not anymore. People can fake that kind
of stuff. Hell, he came from a town where people faked emotions for
a living. Yet, something in her eyes mirrored strength and an inner
core of resilience. When he read the letter he’d first thought
she'd have a meltdown. He now knew at a gut level Morgan wasn't the
meltdown type.

“At least tell me what he wants.” Morgan
voice possessed a calm let’s-talk-about-this quality which made him
question his approach in dealing with her.

Shawn ran his hand though his hair and
studied the note. The sheet of paper had been torn from a spiral
notebook which meant it would be almost impossible to trace.

“Shawn, hand it over.”

He glanced over at Morgan. “You're wrong. The
note is for me.” He handed the paper to her.

She fingered the paper and her lips pressed
together as she marshaled the guts to read it. After a few seconds
she glanced down. She stared at the sheet for what seemed like an
eternity and he studied her face, trying to guess by each subtle
change in her eyes, lips, and hands what she felt. Morgan lowered
her hand, still clutching the note and let out a big sigh. She
leaned back into the seat and closed her eyes. “He followed
us.”

“Yeah, he did.” He slid on his sunglasses to
cut the bright summer glare and avoid direct eye contact with her.
Shawn scanned the parking lot again in the vain hope if he searched
one more time he'd find something he missed before. He anticipated
trouble on this case but he hadn’t prepared for the speed at which
this had escalated.

“What do we do now?” Morgan asked. Her voice
sounded soft and weary and his chest tensed as he realized she
depended on him to guide her through this trial.

“We go to our next appointment,” Shawn
replied as he closed the car door, walked around to the driver's
side, and slid into the seat.

“Shouldn't we call the police?”

He sifted through the keys on his keychain
and then glanced over at Morgan. “And report what? Our suspicions
about a burgundy Honda driver with no license plate number?” Morgan
stared at him in silence for a few seconds. “I told you this would
get worse. Here it goes.”

Morgan eyes watered. “I don't understand. Why
me?”

Shawn put the key in the ignition and started
the engine. “I don’t know, but we'll stop him, I promise.”

Morgan slouched back in the seat and
nervously scanned the parking lot as they left.

“On to the resort?” he asked. Morgan nodded
as she stared down at the note.

Shawn used the quiet time while he drove the
SUV to the resort to think. Morgan’s stalker was behaving like a
jealous lover. Brad hadn't mentioned receiving any threats so
Morgan’s stalker knew they'd broken up. He tightened his grip on
the steering wheel, checked all the side and rearview mirrors and
assessed the cars around them in traffic. Satisfied they weren’t
followed, he shot a quick glance over at Morgan. She appeared lost
in thought as she stared out the passenger side window.

He pressed his lips together and focused on
driving. He’d lied to her. Shawn knew why this man had singled
Morgan out. Besides good looks, she possessed an appeal which came
from strength and kindness. She was approachable. A quality which
drew her stalker to her like a moth to a flame. And, for what it
was worth, he would be willing to bet a steak dinner that they'd
been watched at Morgan's house last night.

***

Matt stepped out of his car, pushed his
sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and waited as a family of
quail scurried across to the far end of the driveway to the desert
bushes. He surveyed Morgan’s property and shook his head. “Wide
open desert,” he murmured. “Ms. Kennedy, you’ve got a problem.”

He walked the perimeter of her house. The
first recommendation: add exterior lights attached to motion
detectors. Anyone sneaking around outside would think twice about
trying to get in when the lights flashed on.

The sound of voices in the distance caught
his attention. Two riders on horseback made their way down the dry
wash along Morgan’s property line. They disappeared as they passed
behind the brush.
If I’d wanted to spy on Morgan that’s where
I’d hide.
Matt returned to his notes and, when he finished, he
walked over the back of the property and stepped down into the
wash.

To the east he could see the riders in the
distance. To the west he spied the brush and the ironwood tree that
the riders disappeared behind earlier. Matt trekked up the wash
through the loose sand and silt until he reached the spot. Years of
sporadic flooding eroded away the soil making the depth of the wash
deeper by the tree. He maneuvered around the tree and discovered
what he was searching for, a perfect line of sight to Morgan’s
arcadia door. He moved closer to the bushes and nudged around them
with his foot. A flash of light hit something. He gently pulled the
scrub back and spied an empty water bottle. “Jackpot,” he
whispered.

He slid his pen into the bottle’s open mouth
and extracted it from the bush. A fine thin layer of dust coated
the plastic surface. “Were you careless and held the bottle with
your bare hands?” Matt whispered.

Once back at his car, he opened his trunk,
pulled a plastic evidence bag out, and dropped the bottle inside.
He then tossed the bag and the notebook on the front passenger seat
and dialed Shawn’s number.

When Shawn answered, he began, “Access to the
house is way too easy. Do you think she’d be willing to add a
fence?”

“Not sure, but you can ask when we come to
the office later.”

“Problems?”

“You could say that,” Shawn replied before he
updated Matt on the happenings this morning. Shawn kept his voice
light and matter-of-fact which meant one thing: Morgan could hear
Shawn’s comments.

“Hey, you know what they say, persistence is
a virtue,” Matt joked.

Shawn snorted a half laugh. “As with most
things, even virtues aren’t good when taken to extremes.”

“If the fence is a no go, I’m recommending
she install some motion sensors and have them attached to spot
lights set to turn on if anyone approaches her house.”

“Okay, anything else?”

“Yeah, I think our boy has been watching her
at home,” Matt said. “I’ve found an empty water bottle. I’ll send
it to Scottsdale P.D. Maybe they’ll find prints on them. What did
the note on your SUV say?”

“Just your basic threat, stay away or
else.”

“A man of few words,” Matt responded. “Let me
make a couple phone calls. The station must have security cameras.
Maybe we’ll get a look at this guy. Where are you going next?”

“We’re heading over to Copper Creek Inn and
then back to the store. I’ll be stopping by the office on the way
back; I need to pick up something.”

Matt paused as a small adrenaline surge
jolted through him. “Your gun?”

“Yep.”

Matt pressed his lips together and inhaled
deeply. He searched for the words to the next question. Shawn had a
license to carry a concealed weapon. In fact, Matt did too. But
neither made a habit of carrying guns on a regular basis. “Is Ms.
Kennedy prepared for this?” Matt asked.

Shawn didn’t respond immediately. “Let’s
discuss this when we come in to the office later.”

Matt exhaled with a soft chuckle. “Okay,
partner. I’ll see if we can get KDEZ’s security camera footage.
I’ll give you a call when I have something.”

“Thanks”

***

On the trip to Copper Creek Inn, Morgan
contemplated how much her life had changed within the past
twenty-four hours. By this time yesterday she discovered a man,
whom she’d never met, had succeeded in making her life a living
hell.

Before this, simple activities such as
answering her phone and coming and going where she pleased would’ve
never taken place under the protection of a bodyguard. She couldn’t
decide which was worse, the frustration or the fear.

The phone call this morning with Brad had
been a serious wakeup call. She’d been confident if she gave him
space, he’d come back to her. Instead, he’d moved on.

She replayed the last few times they were
together through her mind, and now she saw the clear signals he’d
given her. Late for dates, last-minute cancels, and the last time
they went out for dinner, she caught his eyes traveling around the
room, checking out other women. She closed her eyes and leaned back
into the seat. The warning signs had been there all the time and
yet, she’d ignored them. There’d been no fights, no scenes toward
the end, just a slow drift away from each other.

When did it happen? Memories played through
her mind like the rewind function on a DVR. Then she knew. It
started after “the talk.” Over drinks one night Morgan told him
that she wanted to settle down and start a family. She chalked the
glazed over look on Brad’s face to an alcohol buzz. But it wasn’t.
Deep down she knew the end of their relationship had arrived.