Page 17 of The Drowned Woman
And Risa had been living with this guy in her head for a year, she’d said.
The microwave dinged, making Leah jump. She retrieved her tea and returned to the chair beside Risa. “You’re sure this isn’t some joke or a scam?” Wouldn’t it be nice if it were that simple. “I mean, you’re a celebrity, easy to target.”
“You read it. Did it feel like a joke to you?”
“No,” Leah admitted. “No. But I’m not sure that he’s actually a killer. This devoted fan—”
“More like obsessed,” Risa scoffed.
“Risa. You need to take this to the police. We need to make certain you’re safe. Sometimes stalkers start online but move to real life.”
Risa looked away, past Leah to the door. “I know,” she said in a strangled whisper. “But every time I talk to the police, they act like I’m crazy.”
“You’re not crazy.” Anger stirred in Leah. How could the police be so dismissive? Risa was smart, an investigative reporter used to dangerous situations. Not exactly someone who would imagine a threat. If they wouldn’t listen to her, maybe they’d listen to Leah.
“Besides, this guy is untraceable,” Risa continued. “I know because I hired the best cybersecurity specialist I could find to try to track him down.” Risa took another sip of her tea. From the way she gripped the mug with both hands, Leah got the feeling that she did it not because she was thirsty but rather because she needed something to hold on to. She paused, her gaze meeting Leah’s. “Your husband.”
A shiver crawled over Leah. It was a small city; of course she’d be running into people who knew Ian. “That’s why you’re telling me. You didn’t just read about Ian’s murder, you knew him. Ian wasn’t able to track him down?”
“No. He said this guy totally erased his tracks. But when I read about Ian’s murder—”
“You thought—” Leah shook her head vigorously. The real facts behind who killed Ian hadn’t been released to the public, so there was no way Risa could have known that the cases weren’t connected. “No. Believe me. Ian was not killed by your stalker.”
Risa leaned back, obviously relieved. “I was afraid to go back to the police after that,” she said, her voice choked, her fear palpable. “Because if he tracked Ian here, if that was why—” She closed her eyes for a long moment, gathering her strength. “I haven’t left the apartment since I heard about Ian. Was afraid who he might target next.”
Leah was aghast. For a woman as strong as Risa to be made to feel so powerless, in fear for her life… No one should have that kind of control over a person. “We’re going to the police. I’ll talk to Luka myself, make him take you seriously.”
“Ian said he’d prepare a report I could take to the police, said it might help.”
It sounded like Ian.
“And he installed special software to document any new messages because the first ones were set to auto-erase as soon as they were read.”
“Messages? Plural? There’s more?” Leah leaned forward, toward the computer between them, but then pulled back.
“Dozens over the past year,” Risa answered. “This guy, whoever he is, he sends me obituaries—he calls them gifts—that are people with the same name or birthday or who died exactly like people in the obituaries or feature stories that I’ve worked on. People all over the country.” She hesitated. “I think he killed them. For me. To get me to notice him or something, I’m not sure.”
“They were all murdered?”
“No. That’s just it. They all appear to be natural or accidental. When I call to talk to the local police or coroners, I pretty much get laughed off the phone.”
The stories Risa had worked on over the years were of course easy to find, but… “How could he know whose obituaries you’ve worked on? You said that was mainly fact-checking.”
“Exactly. There’s no byline or credit, my name isn’t on any of those. At first, Ian thought the stalker might be accessing my files via malware on my computer. But he couldn’t find any. I switched to a new computer, but still they kept coming. So then Ian thought maybe he’s someone with the hacking skills to access editorial proofs or emails—but my work is for several news outlets and he had their IT departments check. Nothing.”
“Is there anyone who links them all?” Leah asked, intrigued despite simultaneously wanting to believe that this was all a hoax. “Besides you, I mean.”
Risa paused. “I’m on a few online professional forums—the people who do what I do, it’s a pretty small group, so we help each other when we can. There’s also my agent. Dom got me the fact-checking gigs. He’s part of a larger agency in New York, so it’s possible someone who works there could access our correspondence.”
“Maybe Jack mentioned something in social media?” From the letter, it sounded as if Jack was as unguarded in his social media postings as he was in person. As an introvert who shunned revealing anything of her private life, Leah found extroverts like Jack more than a bit overwhelming.
“No. Jack has no clue about the specifics of my work. He respects that I can’t really share details for ethical reasons.”
Something in Risa’s tone caught Leah’s attention. “You haven’t told him, have you? About the emails or your devoted fan.”
Risa sighed. “It’s pretty clear the stalker doesn’t like Jack. I was worried if I told him and Jack tried to do anything—”
“You’d be putting a target on his back.”
