Page 4 of Risk Assessment
Dylan remained silent but nodded.
Raleigh’s throat ached. Crying wasn’t an option. She blurted out, “I moved to New York last year, and everything was great until about six weeks ago.” A shudder ran through her body. “I’m not sure what Lauren told you, but I’ve never seen him…the stalker. I know he exists because of what he does here—the changes he makes, the games he plays.”
She babbled, but she couldn’t stop herself. It helped some of the fear drain away. She tried to look neutral, but her face undoubtedly reflected her terror. Even sitting here in her house with a cop, she felt totally powerless.
“Is there anything else? Any other signs of your stalker besides the knife, the yogurt, and the pillow?” His voice held more of an edge this time. A little less helpful-bystander-with-a-victim, a little more cop-dealing-with-a-lunatic. The faintest hint of disbelief was visible in the set of his features.
Her hackles rose. “Look, I know what it sounds like, but it’s true.” Anger helped banish her fear. She had to be strong. No one else would do it for her. “Look at those flowers! I bought lilies and gardenias. Only lilies and gardenias.” She still avoided looking at the vase but pointed to it. “He always changes the arrangement.”
Dylan glanced at the flowers, but he seemed mystified.
She rolled her eyes. “Orange and white flowers. I bought orange and white this week.” She frowned. “Is there a red rose in the middle?” It came out as croak like a huge frog had taken up residence in her throat.
When he nodded, her stomach rolled. She closed her eyes and willed her the bile back down to her belly. She took a deep breath and exhaled, then opened her eyes.
“The towels in the bathroom will have a sickly-sweet smell, like old roses. Oh, and the toilet paper roll will be over instead of under.”
Dylan wordlessly got up and went to her bathroom. He came back seconds later and nodded. His expression was back to stony, but she could see the doubt in his eyes.
Raleigh blinked rapidly and swallowed hard. She wasn’t going to break down. Not again. Not when she’d promised herself there would be no more tears over this stalker. He was winning if she cried, and she wouldnotlet him win.
“Does anyone have a key to your place?” he asked.
“Just Mrs. Yardley. She lives next door. I gave her a key in case I get locked out.”
He nodded. “Have you known her long?”
“Since I moved here. She’s eighty if she’s a day and she doesn’t get out much so if you’re thinking she has anything to do with this, you can just stop now.”
Dylan raised an eyebrow at her vehement defense but didn’t comment. “Okay. Show me the knife.”
Raleigh got up and gestured for him to lead the way. It was a struggle to keep it together, but she studied him to distract herself. His back muscles rippled as he walked. His jeans fit snuggly around his hips. She remembered what he’d felt like on top of her a moment ago. Good. Solid. Physically, he was someone who could protect her.
When he reached the kitchen, he stepped to the side and leaned on the fridge as she entered.
“There.” She pointed. “I’m right-handed. I always leave the dirty dishes on the left side of the sink. That way I can use my right hand to put them in the drying rack after I wash them.”
She wanted to be done explaining. It seemed so pointless. For all the people she’d told, only one had believed her. Lauren, but she was out of town for the next couple of months, helpingout with her cousin Lilah’s six kids while Lilah recovered from an emergency hysterectomy.
Raleigh had no one here who could help her. She turned to face Dylan and leaned against the sink.
“And you’ve reported this at the local precinct?” he asked.
“Yes, but the officers didn’t believe me. They think I’m making it all up.” She lifted her chin a fraction. “Is that what you think?”
He studied her for a moment before his expression softened. “I think you’re terrified. And no one wants to be terrified.”
She blinked. It wasn’t exactly a statement of support, but at least he wasn’t trying to admit her to a psych ward. When her gaze met his, a warming sensation started in her stomach. The knots loosened slightly. “So, what happens now?”
His blue eyes remained steady on hers. The kitchen was small, and Dylan seemed to take up all the space.
If he backed out of accompanying her this weekend, she was screwed. She had a sudden, crazy impulse to throw her arms around him and beg him to come with her.
Hell, she wanted to beg him to stay with hernow. She wanted him with her every moment until her stalker was caught. A flash of her in Dylan’s arms lit up her brain like the Fourth of July. She shivered.
“Now, tell me what’s in store for this weekend so I can put some sort of plan together. I need details if I’m going to keep you safe.”
Her knees went weak with relief, and she stumbled a bit.
