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
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
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