* * *
Waiting for Brady to return with the detective, Morgan shoved her phone into her pocket and sent the threat letters feeding into the printer. She’d called her mother and learned that the keys were right where her father had left them. She’d also managed to raise her mother’s suspicions, but Morgan had avoided telling her the truth. If her dad had answered, it might have been a different story.
Morgan listened to the hum of the copier and looked around the room she’d so carefully decorated. The space was neutral on purpose. No photos. No mementos from time spent with her family, which would only remind her of their disagreement about where she should live.
She’d planned this place as a sanctuary. A symbol of her new independence. Now each shadowed corner held fear. Her space had been violated. Along with it, so had she. Again. For the second time tonight.
Stress weighed heavily on her and nausea formed in the pit of her stomach. Stress. When she’d worked on the lawsuit, the stress had left her with daily nausea. So many people had depended on her back then. Her father. Preston. The mill workers who would lose their jobs if she lost the case. Despite feeling sick, she’d dug deep for the strength she needed to go on. She did her duty, then broke free of her father’s desire to keep her employed at the mill. She’d formed her own life, and her stomach had settled down. Even when her father basically disowned her.
She’d just started to enjoy life and now this? It was almost too much to bear.
“Why, God?” she whispered. Isn’t my father disowning me enough? Do You have to take my new start in life, too? My peace?
Okay, fine, she got that God didn’t actually take her peace. She let the fear take over and steal it. But after her night, how could she not?
She heard a noise in the bedroom and jumped. She knew it was the old building groaning with age as it often did, but still, the room suddenly seemed oppressive without Brady. She didn’t want to admit to needing anyone. Would never admit it aloud, but his presence had kept the panic at bay.
Despite what common sense told her, she hurried to the front door and slipped into her shoes before jerking it open. Brady stood, his feet planted wide, his shoulders back like a tower of strength. She was reluctant to lean on him, but she needed him to get through this.
Tonight only, she told herself as joined the men. Tonight only.
“Ms. Thorsby.” Rossi stepped forward and ran a wide thumb over the doorjamb.
“Please call me Morgan.”
He gave a clipped nod. “As Owens said, there’s no sign of forced entry.” Instead of looking at Brady, he eyed Morgan, his eyebrow raised, as if she’d done something wrong. She didn’t like his attitude, but didn’t know what to say so she said nothing.
“Show me the rose and picture,” he said, his voice almost accusatory.
He seemed to be blaming her for this. Or was he mad at having to stay out all night? Regardless, she wouldn’t let the surly bear of a guy intimidate her. She’d state her case and keep to the point so she didn’t waste his time.
“Follow me.” She led the way to the kitchen. Rossi stomped behind her and Brady’s lighter footsteps sounded farther behind. She dreaded entering the kitchen with slivers of glass so representative of the shards of unease she felt, but she had to be strong.
She stepped in, picking her way through the glass, and turned to face Rossi, who stared at the rose and picture. Brady moved to the far side of the room and rested against the counter. She couldn’t get a read on his mood, but then he’d be going home in a little bit, so it didn’t much matter.
She focused on Rossi. “I’ve already told Deputy Owens that I don’t have a boyfriend and haven’t dated in the last few months.”
“This picture looks like a real announcement,” he said.
She stifled a sigh at having to tell her story again and quickly brought Rossi up to speed.
“Other than property management, my parents are the only people with a key,” she added. “I just talked to my mother. She confirmed the keys are in my dad’s desk drawer right where they keep them. They obviously wouldn’t do this, so this person got into my apartment another way.”
Rossi looked her straight in the eyes. “Are you suggesting a secret admirer, then?”
“It’s the only explanation. Unless of course, a plaintiff from the trial is trying a different way to scare me.”
“Doesn’t feel like that to me,” Brady spoke for the first time.
“I’d have to agree. More like a jilted lover or a boyfriend wannabe.” Rossi frowned. “Still, I can’t fully rule out a connection to the lawsuit. Shaw’s behind bars, but until now we had no reason to check his whereabouts before the shooting. I’ll investigate, and once you provide the other threats you’ve received, I’ll review them to see if there’s a connection.”
“I made copies so you can take them with you.”
Rossi gestured at the floor. “The glass?”
“I dropped it when I saw the picture.”
Rossi pulled out a small notepad and pen. “Tell me more about this engagement. You said the guy’s name is Preston Hunter, right?”
She nodded, and he jotted it down.
“I honestly don’t think he did this,” she continued. “He’s moved on and is already engaged.” Plus he’s a white rose kind of person, she thought but didn’t add.
“You’d be surprised what guys might do,” Rossi said. “I’ve seen it all. Tell me more about Preston.”
Rossi was barking up the wrong tree, but she’d answer his questions so they could get to how he was going to find this stalker. “He comes from a well-respected family. They own Orion Transport. Our family businesses work hand in hand so we go way back. In fact, I’ve known him since we were children. It was natural for us to start dating and get engaged.”
“Why’d you break up?” Brady asked, surprising her for a moment. She hadn’t realized that he was still standing there.
“We weren’t compatible.” She crossed her arms and hoped he’d leave it at that.
“How so?” His gaze remained fixed on her, direct and searching.
So much for hoping he’d let it go. “I’m more laid-back. He’s controlling.” The desire to explain her actions had her opening her mouth to continue, but then she clamped it closed. Neither Brady nor Rossi had a reason to know about Preston’s incessant need to plan her life and activities.
Both Rossi and Brady’s eyebrows rose.
“No, wait,” she said. “If you’re thinking there’s something sinister there, you’re wasting your time. I still see Preston on occasion when I visit my parents, and we are completely cordial. And, like I said, he has a new fiancée. Someone far more suited to him than I was.”
“And her name is?”
“Natasha something. Sorry, I don’t remember her last name.”
Rossi scribbled something in his notepad then shifted on his feet. “And you really haven’t dated anyone else since then?”
“No.”
Rossi tapped his pen against the paper. “No one. Not a single guy. Really?”
“Really.” She tightened her arms and tried to hold on to her temper.
“You’re an attractive woman, Morgan, so that’s hard to believe.” Rossi turned to Brady. “Isn’t that hard to believe, Owens?”
“Yes,”