Page 37 of Stalker

I raked my hand through my hair, blinking to bring a sharper focus and noticed the book on my nightstand. No wonder. I’d been reading werewolf porn.

At least I could laugh at myself.

Maybe I should stick to reading thrillers.

I got out of bed, determined to shake the continued sexual images. But they lingered in bold colors, flashes of the werewolf’s body keeping me trembling. After grabbing my robe, I headed to the kitchen. Coffee was definitely needed before I attempted to take a shower.

Before I even had a chance to make it to the bathroom, my phone rang. I had special rings, and hearing Cash’s ringtone meant either there was an issue, or he was upset about whatever Mark had or had not done.

I wasn’t annoyed. I egged the man on, needing the comic relief in my own life.

“Cash. It’s early. Way too early. Didn’t you have enough of me the other night?” How many days had it been since we’d shared dinner? Oh, God. I was losing track of time along with everything else.

“Never enough of my best friend in crime and not for law enforcement either. Have you turned on the news yet?”

Yawning, I glanced at the clock. “It’s five-ten in the morning.”

“The news starts at four a.m. Turn it on.”

“Yes, master. Can’t I get coffee first?”

“I don’t think you want to miss this.” His voice was singsong.

“Fine.” I flipped on the television, immediately heading to the coffeemaker.

After selecting a coffee flavor of choice and pressing the go button on the Keurig, I glanced at the screen. “What am I looking for?”

“Did you hear about the woman who was almost kidnapped in the park, but a Good Samaritan stopped him?”

“Yes. No. Maybe. It’s too early for riddles.”

“Well, the culprit caught red-handed is the son of Conrad Monahan.”

Now that did perk up my ears.

“The former football star turned pharmaceutical guru everyone thinks is on the take?”

Cash chuckled. “The very one. His name is Drew Monahan. Or as the press calls him, the Clown Monster. Anyway, Daddy got him out on bail, but he was re-arrested last night for more heinous crimes including the torture and murder of several area women.”

“What?” The breaking news report came on and I turned up the volume. The Clown Monster. I hated when the press glorified the bastards. That’s what the killers wanted.

Drew had been arrested in the middle of the night. Reporters had been tipped off. As the police were taking the haggard-looking guy into custody covered by a blanket, he was loudly professing his innocence.

“Wow,” I managed.

“Wow indeed. New evidence that’s supposedly scathing. You do know whose office this is coming to. Right?”

“Well, I’m busy. My guess is Mr. Wells will give it to you.”

“It’s high profile. You’re the star.”

True enough, but that was a heavy burden. I wasn’t entirely certain I was ready to handle another serial killer.

“Scathing evidence, huh. What does that entail?”

“I don’t know yet but a buddy of mine from one of the local news stations called me. He said the scene in the guy’s house was out of a horror flick. Juicy, baby.”

Juicy.

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