Someone To Watch Over Me (3 page)

“But God made lemonade out of lemons.” Mary
said.

Morgan and Sarah stared at the mature
saleswoman. “What?” Sarah asked.

“Samuel’s death was a tragedy but you honor
his life with this fundraiser. Your family has raised millions of
dollars over the years. Think of the lives you have saved with the
equipment your auction has paid for.”

“Yes,” Sarah added.

Morgan smiled and swallowed, but the lump in
her throat stubbornly refused to relax. “Uh, I’ve got a tow truck
coming for my car and I need to arrange a ride to pick up a
rental.”

Mary asked, “Do the police have any clues as
to who did this?”

“Nothing solid,” Morgan replied.

“I’ll tell you, the world is going to Hell in
a hand basket. Why would someone do something like that?” The older
woman asked.

“I don’t know,” Morgan replied. “I’m going to
give Stella a call and see if she can give me a ride. If you need
me, I’ll be in my office.”

***

“Hey Stella, I need a favor.”

“Depends, what’s up?”

Morgan smiled at the joking response on the
other end of the line. Despite the teasing, her best friend would
grant her request.

“Can you give me a ride to go pick up a
rental car?”

“Sure, for a price. Chinese?”

Morgan laughed. “You’re on! Can you be here
around four?”

“Sure, but why do you need a rental car?”

“We’ve had a little problem with vandalism.
I’ll give you the details when you get here.”

“Strange, I didn’t peg your neighborhood as
having this type of problem.”

“Me neither,” Morgan said.

A few minutes past four, Stella pulled up in
front of the store and Morgan, who had been watching for Stella’s
SUV through the storefront window, quickly stepped outside to slide
into the passenger side of the vehicle.

“Okay, what happened?”

Morgan glanced at her friend. Concern graced
her eyes and tinged her voice.

“Someone spray painted my car and stole some
clothing out of my gym bag.”

“Oh my God, when did this happen?”

“Between when I came in to set up the store
this morning and left for lunch around noon. I thought I’d locked
the car, but apparently I didn’t. The intruder went through the
car, even my gym bag and took my bra and panties.”

“Did you file a police report?”

“Yep, but they weren’t too encouraging. The
bottom line is I shouldn’t expect much. They even thought Brad did
this.”

“Morgan, you can’t blame them for asking. I’m
sure they deal with this all the time. Disgruntled former
boyfriends or husbands probably account for the majority of people
who do these types of things.”

“I know, but the decision to break up was
mutual. We want different things,” Morgan replied quietly as she
glanced out the side window avoiding her friend’s appraising gaze.
She wasn’t ready to talk about the break-up with anyone at this
point, not even Stella.

After twenty minutes in traffic, Stella
pulled up to the car rental office, and Morgan slid out of the
front seat. “Almond chicken?”

“Absolutely.”

“All right, give me an hour and meet me at my
place. I’ve got to tape the TV interview tomorrow for the
fundraiser, and I must make a final decision on what to wear. I
need your advice.”

“You’re asking me? I live in jeans all day,”
Stella said.

“But they’re such
nice
jeans.”

Morgan admired her friend’s style. Despite
working for her family’s construction company, Stella was always
pulled together and fashionable.

“Don’t forget the egg rolls,” Stella added as
she started to close the door.

“Morgan?”

She leaned in to glance at Stella and noted
the humor had faded from her eyes. “Yes?”

“Be careful.”

***

“Stella, you shouldn’t have done this,”
Morgan smiled as she took the vase with the pink roses and baby’s
breath from her friend’s hands.

“Wish I could take credit, but they were on
the doorstep when I arrived,” Stella replied. “Do you think that
Brad sent them?”

Morgan grinned as she carried the flowers to
the kitchen and set them on the counter. She leaned in, inhaled
their delicate fragrance and removed the small pastel envelope from
the bouquet. She cast a quick glance and smiled at her friend. “Who
else would send me my favorite flowers?”

“Go ahead, open it.” Stella said.

Morgan’s smile faded as she glanced at her
friends face. Stella didn’t appear happy. In fact, she seemed
outright concerned.

“You’ll see.” Morgan peeled the flap back on
the small envelope, slid the card out and read the message. “What
the…”

She blinked and reread the message. The note
was written in blue ink and printed in childlike script. “Sorry
about the car. I’ll see you around.”

“Well,” Stella said.

Morgan glanced up at her friend and drew a
quick, deep breath, “Dear God, he’s been here.” She peered over her
shoulder first left, then right.
Was he inside the house?
If
this were a horror movie, here was the part where her stalker would
jump out of a closet with a knife or gun.

Stella snatched the card, “Morgan, give me
that.”

Morgan’s mind replayed the scenario of her
coming home and finding him waiting for her. She stared blankly at
the flowers.

“This came from the guy who tagged your car?”
Stella asked.

Morgan nodded, “yeah.”

“Give me the details of what happened today.
Start from the beginning.”

Morgan took another deep breath and recounted
to Stella the activities of the day. Stella’s blue eyes usually
sparkled with humor and merriment, but the concern there ignited an
edgy buzz in Morgan. Her first instinct was to dash to the rental
car and run. But the fear of what might await her in the shadows
kept her in the house.

“You must call the police,” Stella said.

Morgan snapped her gaze away from the
flowers. “Huh?”

“Police. Call them,” Stella ordered.

Morgan nodded and removed Officer Romano’s
card out of her wallet and quickly dialed the number. She left a
quick message, and after ending the call, she looked at her friend.
“Stella, what am I going to do? I’m not sure they can be much help
because I have no idea who this man is.”

Stella fingered the note as she considered
the question. After a few moments, she fished her cell phone out of
her purse, “Let me call someone who owns a security company. His
firm worked on the vandalism and theft problems we had last year,
but they also handle personal protection for many bands and their
concerts. Maybe he can help us.”

***

Shawn jerked. The phone’s ring broke the
silence of the empty office and his concentration. “Not now,” he
murmured as he tried to focus on the laptop in front of him. The
schedule for the security staff for the concert should have been
posted yesterday, and the last thing he needed was another
interruption. He’d deal with the message tomorrow. As the recorded
introduction to his voice mailbox played, the phone disconnected,
and within seconds his cell phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID.
Adams
Construction.
“Damn,” Shawn growled as he punched the button.
“Sonoran Security.”

“Shawn?” The woman sounded nervous.

“Speaking.”

“Shawn, this is Stella Adams. I’m sorry to
intrude at this hour, but I need your expertise on a situation. Can
we meet tonight?”

Shawn softly massaged his forehead as he
stared at the computer screen in front of him. She probably had
another construction site issue. He’d let her lay it out over the
phone and schedule a meeting for tomorrow. “What’s the
problem?”

“My friend is being stalked.”

Whoa.
He glanced up from the laptop
and leaned back in his chair for a few seconds.
So much for
construction site security
.
Shawn took
a deep breath of air, “Did your friend contact the police and file
a restraining order?”

“Police report, yes. Restraining order, well
that‘s a problem. She doesn’t know who the stalker is.” Stella
replied.

He shot a quick look at his wristwatch and
calculated how quickly he could finish. “Okay, give me a couple
hours. What’s the address?”

Stella paused and spoke to someone off line.
A feminine voice replied, and Stella repeated the directions as he
scribbled them on a notepad.

“Thanks, I really appreciate you coming out
tonight.” Stella said.

The young woman’s voice literally dripped
with concern. “What’s your friend’s name?”

Stella replied, “Kennedy. Morgan
Kennedy.”

Shawn closed his eyes and rubbed his brow.
The publicity for the upcoming fundraiser for the children’s
hospital had been splashed in the newspapers and he had a vague
recollection of reading an article about the daughter chairing the
event. “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He added, “In the
meantime, make sure the doors are locked and stay put.”

“Got it,” Stella replied and then she ended
the call.

Stalked?
The word pinged through his
mind and memories from Southern California flooded his thoughts
like the aftermath of a dam break. He hadn’t dealt with a stalking
case in years.

***

Morgan listened as Stella talked to Shawn and
the gravity of the situation began to sink in.
Stalker.
The
word conjured up visions of the Michael Myers character from the
Halloween
movies. Morgan reined in her imagination and
forced herself to glance at her friend. “Thanks. I had no idea what
was happening until today.”

“Why would you,” Stella asked as she opened a
bottle of pinot grigio and poured the wine. “Here, I think you
could use this.” Her friend handed her a glass. “Now you need to
have some food.”

Morgan took several sips, “I’m not hungry.”
Her glance darted over to the vase.
How did he know pink roses
were her favorite?
Normally she would be delighted with such a
gift, but this wasn’t a gift, the flowers were an apology. “Sorry
about the car.” Did this idiot have any idea what repainting her
Mercedes would cost? Resentment bubbled up, and she defiantly
picked up the vase, went outside of the house to the garbage can
and dropped them inside.
Apology not accepted.

When she returned, Stella had removed the
takeout boxes from the sacks and handed a plate to her. “Eat,” her
friend ordered.

Morgan hesitated. She wasn’t hungry, but the
beginning of an alcohol buzz crept over her. She needed to put
something other than wine in her stomach or she’d be completely
tipsy by the time Stella’s security specialist arrived. Morgan set
the glass down, picked up a spoon, and scooped rice onto her
plate.

“Here,” Stella said as she handed Morgan the
warm carton. Morgan opened the box and the aroma of chicken and
sauce wafted out. Her stomach rolled like an ice cream maker. She
glanced up. Her friend was removing the egg rolls from the paper
wrapper and placed one on her plate. “I’m not sure I can.”

“Start with the rice, work your way through
the vegetables, and then the chicken. If your stomach doesn’t
settle, skip the egg roll. I’ll make some tea.”

Morgan picked up the fork and began to work
on the rice. Within a few minutes, her stomach had calmed down and
she picked at the entree.

“So, what are you planning to wear
tomorrow?”

Morgan watched as her friend set a kettle on
the stove and pulled out a teapot and teabags from the pantry.
“I’ve narrowed it to a few choices. But I want to be sure that I
don’t pick something too cocktail-like.”

The tall blonde poured the hot water into the
teapot and cast a quick glance at her before sprouting a small
grin. “The woman who probably invented the buttoned-up
businesswoman look? This shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Thanks. I knew I could count on you for
moral support.” Morgan took another forkful of chicken and
vegetables. Despite her friend’s efforts to keep things light and
off the topic of her stalker, she battled the urge to glance out of
the window.

“Morgan, relax.” Stella handed her a cup of
steaming tea. “Shawn will be here in a couple of hours. I’m not
going anywhere. Tonight we’ll get some counsel and a game plan
pulled together. Right now, let’s enjoy our meal.”

Morgan smiled at her friend. “Yes,
Mother.”

After dinner, the pair spent the next hour
reviewing Morgan’s wardrobe options for the interview. They
narrowed five dresses down to two and Morgan eventually decided on
a royal blue wrap dress. She was picking the dresses up off of her
bed to return them to the closet when the doorbell rang.

Morgan jumped and glanced at Stella. Her
friend smiled. “Relax. It’s going to be okay.”

Morgan nodded. “Could you please let him
in?”

After Stella left the room, Morgan put away
the remaining pieces of clothing. A shiver rippled through her, and
she slowly glanced over to the window. The drapes to the bedroom
were drawn, and no one could see in, yet she sensed he was out
there in the dark, watching.

“Quit,” she whispered to herself as she
straightened her blouse and finger combed her hair. “I’ll get
through this.”

She walked to the living room and waited. She
heard Stella open the door and say, “Shawn, thanks for coming.” Her
friend’s voice dropped, and Morgan could not make out the low
masculine reply. She cocked her head to the right in hopes of
catching more of the conversation. The discussion paused and within
moments Stella entered the room with a man following her.

Morgan studied the man and an electric
crackle sizzled through her. The only experience she had with
security personnel were the middle-aged, paunchy guards who came to
the store to pick up money and jewelry for transport. This man was
a whole different breed of animal. He moved with a quiet grace as
he scanned the surroundings, taking them in, before focusing on
her. His dark brown hair was cut short, and the dusting of gray at
his temples lent an air of experience about him.