The Christmas Stalking (5 page)

Dumbfounded, Holly stared. “What do you mean? Of course there is. I’m hiding out from him. He broke into my house. He sent me a dead cat and vandalized the cabin last night.”

“I think your manager did all that stuff, and then he probably notified the media of your whereabouts now. Great publicity, don’t you think? You’ve been all over the TV the past few days.”

“You think he created all this mayhem by himself? He would never do that to me. And couldn’t he get in trouble with the authorities? For filing false statements, or something like that.”

“He didn’t. I contacted the Nashville PD. They’re not aware of any stalking case involving you.”

She felt sick to her stomach.

Mark wouldn’t do that to her, would he?

“The whole thing was a publicity stunt.” Robbie said.

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, but he did admit to using the GPS. He refused to say he was the one who notified the media or that the stalking thing was all a hoax. But if I was him, I wouldn’t admit that, either.”

“That’s it. I’m firing him. I’ve been terrified for the past month, and he knew all along it was a hoax.” She stared at Robby. “Friend, or not. You may have to arrest me for murder.”

9

Holly pressed against the worn surface of the table with a scrub brush. The paint disappeared under the cleanser and her determination.

Robby was right. Must have been a water-based paint. If it had been oil, it would have been a mess to clean up. Anyway, the hard work was a good way to rid herself of some of the angry energy.

She’d spent the past few hours cleaning up the cabin. The table was the last thing to take care of. She couldn’t believe Mark was behind this mess. He’d pulled a few publicity stunts over the years, but this was too much.

If Robby was right, she would have to fire him.

The thought of life without Mark hurt. He’d been her manager from the start. He’d believed in her talent when no one else had.

If
Robby was right
.

She still found it hard to believe.

Scenes from the past month flashed in her mind. Mark pretending to be worried, acting as if he’d spoken to the police, perplexed as to why they couldn’t catch the guy. And he sent her a dead cat—killed it in the name of publicity. That was the worst.

That poor cat, sacrificed to put her in the news. But it didn’t sound like the Mark she’d known for almost a decade.

Her hand slowed. Mark hadn’t initially told the media. Unless he’d planned to tell them all about it later.

She sighed. Who knew what Mark was thinking?

A car pulled into her drive.

Probably Robby checking up on her.

He wasn’t happy with her decision to come back to the cabin, but respected her enough not to argue the point.

Since there was no stalker, there was no reason not to go back to the cabin and clean up the mess. And get on with her life.

He had dropped her off with the promise to come back later.

After learning about Mark’s betrayal, she’d forgotten to ask Robby why he’d lied about knowing she was Destiny. But she would find out now. However, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Since he
had
figured out there was no stalker, and she could get back to her life.

Not that she was in a hurry to leave Serenity.

Reuniting with him was good. She had no idea where their relationship would go, but she was definitely looking forward to finding out.

She opened the cabin door to a world of white. The weatherman predicted five to six more inches of snow. The flurries had stopped, but the wind still whistled through the surrounding trees.

A blue SUV was in the drive. Not Robby’s cruiser. Was it a reporter? Robby had assured her the reporters in town didn’t know the location of the cabin. But some reporters could be relentless.

Unless someone had shared that information about her being stalked in Nashville. The media would have been all over the story and her. Why wouldn’t he have taken advantage of the opportunity?

She still couldn’t believe Mark could do that, since he was always protective of her privacy. Doubt surfaced as Holly remembered that fact. How could Mark make up a stalker when he’d always been aware of her need for time alone before? Why would he do it? Were her CDs not selling enough?

The car door opened.

If she’d been sucker-punched, she couldn’t have been more surprised.

Mark stepped out of the car. As he neared the cabin, their gazes met.

“I can’t believe you had the nerve to show your face after you violated my privacy with a GPS tracker.”

“It’s freezing. Let’s go inside and talk.”

She motioned for him to come inside.

Mark had done something stupid as her manager, but he wouldn’t hurt her.

He stamped the snow off his feet. As his gaze moved around the now cozy and clean room, so did hers.

“Nice place, but not exactly your style. A little too rustic.”

She said nothing.

He reached up as if to unbutton his coat then stopped. “May I?”

She nodded.

“Stop looking at me like that, Destiny. In spite of what your buddy the policeman thinks, I am not the enemy. “

“So you say.”

“I always have your best interests at heart. You know that.”

“I know nothing of the kind. I can’t believe you did this to me. You, of all people.” She bit her lip and her eyes filled with unexpected tears. Firing him would be harder than she thought. “I trusted you. How could you do this?”

He threw up his hands. “All I did was follow you here to make sure you were safe. What do you think I’ve done?”

“Making me think I had a stalker. And all for publicity. Are my sales so low you needed to do something that awful?” She walked away, but then turned back to him. “And you killed a cat.” Her gaze rested on the flames flicking in the fireplace. He’d betrayed her.

“I didn’t pretend you had a stalker. You do have a stalker. I didn’t kill a cat and…” He looked around the room as if he thought there might be a camera around and he was being punked. “Why would you think I would pretend such a thing?”

“You planted a GPS on my car and followed me here. And you didn’t contact the police like you said you did. Robby checked.” She took a breath, trying to stop the trembling. “Then you broke in here and vandalized the cabin last night.”

“I did no such thing.” His confusion was overtaken by outrage. “I only got here today.”

“Then how did you find me?”

“OK, yes, I planted the GPS on your car, but I’m not the one stalking you. And I didn’t make up that you had a stalker. How could you even think that?”

“I understand you’re not stalking me. You just wanted me to think someone was stalking me. It makes for great publicity.”

“Destin—”

“My name is Holly. Call me Holly.”

He stared at her as if he’d never heard the name before. “Holly, I didn’t arrange anything. The stalking is real. I wish it wasn’t. And I didn’t tell the media you were here. All I did was follow you. To make sure you were safe.”

“Oh, right. Safe from the nonexistent stalker. Why? So you could ride in on a white horse and save me?”

He started to speak, but then stopped and simply stared at her.

The look on his face made her regret her words.

“I did it because I love you.” His voice was soft, and his hands moved down her shoulders in a caress. “I wanted to make sure you were safe, so I put the GPS on your rental. But that’s the only thing I did.”

Something in his voice was different. This wasn’t Mark, her manager, speaking. This was someone she didn’t know. Her stomach plummeted. Maybe the stalking hadn’t been about publicity.

Not wanting him to see her fear, she smiled and patted his cheek. “If you think that will stop me from firing you, you’re wrong.”

“I don’t care if you fire me.” His hand still rested on her arm. “It’s time you know the truth. I’ve hidden it from you long enough.”

“So you admit it?”

“I admit that I love you. But I certainly didn’t pretend you have a stalker.”

“And you didn’t call the police. Robby checked—there’s no case file on me.”

“I was afraid calling them in would cause more problems. I didn’t want the media to find out. I thought your security team could handle it. Did you hear what I said? I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetikins. Now, you confess all, and then we’ll forget all about it, and life can move forward.”

Hurt shone in Mark’s eyes.

He really did care deeply for her.
Oh, dear.

“Mark, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t tell you the truth? I’m tired of playing games. Tired of pretending. I don’t want to be your friend anymore. I want to be your—”

“I want some hot chocolate.” She had to put a stop to this. “How about you? I’ll make it while you get some more wood off the wood pile behind the cabin. Then, we’ll have a long talk.”

If he crossed that line, he couldn’t go back.

And she didn’t want him stepping over the boundaries.

He relented with a smile. “Fine, sweetikins. Make sure mine has lots of marshmallows. I’m going to need some extra calories for the manual labor.”

“Great.”

He slipped on his jacket. “Isn’t there a back door to this cabin? It would make it a lot easier to get the wood in.”

She shook her head, but then remembered.

The first time she’d ever stayed overnight with her grandparents, Grandpa had shown her the trap door fire escape he’d built into the bedroom wall. On the outside, he’d matched the fascia of the cut logs so it wasn’t visible and didn’t detract from the looks of the rustic cabin.

He’d worried about campfires and the surrounding woods during the summers with vacationers everywhere, so he’d built in an emergency exit, then had mock fire drills to teach her how to get out of the cabin. “Well, there’s the trap door in the bedroom, but you’d have to crawl through it. Not very convenient, I’m afraid.”

He arched his brows. “I’ll pass. The long way around it is.”

He walked out the front door.

Her hand shook as she took the milk from the refrigerator. Mark, in love with her. Not possible. She poured milk into a small saucepan, placed it on the stove, and then pulled out two cups along with the hot chocolate mix and the marshmallows.

She stood at the stove, stirring the milk to keep it from burning

Mark kicked on the door. “Destiny, can you open the door?”

Holly put down the spoon and shut off the burner.

“I can use some help here,” Mark called, laughter in his voice.

“Yeah. Yeah. I hear you. I’m coming.” She skirted the big wood table and hurried towards the door.

Bang!
A gunshot rang out.

11

Adrenaline pumped through Holly as another shot rang out.

“Mark, are you all right?” Holly yelled through the door, afraid to open it.

No answer.

This couldn’t be happening.

Someone was shooting at him.

Another gunshot. She couldn’t leave Mark out there—in harm’s way.

“God, help me…” Summoning strength, she opened the door.

Mark slumped at her feet, his body draped over the pile of wood.

She leaned down, not sure what to do.

Another gunshot blasted the air, and something crashed inside the cabin.

She looked behind her. Shards of glass from a picture frame littered the floor. If she hadn’t leaned down, the bullet would have hit her. Her mind went blank for a few seconds, but then rational thought kicked in.

Someone was shooting at them.

Grabbing Mark’s arms, she strained muscles as she pulled him into the cabin. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she choked back sobs.

Another bullet smashed into the outside wall of the cabin.

A few more inches, and Mark was inside.

She slammed the door, and then locked it.

“Mark.” She knelt down. “Mark.”

A red spot spread on his jacket.

She ran to the kitchen and grabbed a dishcloth. She fell to her knees beside him and pressed the cloth against the growing red spot. She touched his neck. He was alive. She crawled to the sofa to grab her purse, attempting to keep herself from becoming a target.

She leaned against the sofa. Her breath was coming in short little gasps. After forcing herself to slow down, she found the cell phone in her purse and flipped it open. Nothing happened.

No welcome screen. She bit her lip in frustration. In all the chaos of the night before, she hadn’t charged it.

The cabin had a landline. In the kitchen, on the wall by the refrigerator. But that meant standing up.

Her gaze landed on the table where the stalker had left the message that she would die soon. He’d obviously meant it.

Mark moaned.

She crawled to the kitchen, jumped up to grab the phone, and then slid down the wall.

Thank God.

She put the phone to her ear. No dial tone. Tears flooded as she groped for a solution. They were trapped. No way to call the police.

She crawled to Mark. His eyes fluttered open.

“It’s OK.”

“Wasn’t me.” His voice was weak. “Not the stalker. Just wanted to keep you safe.”

“I know. I’m sorry I accused you. I know you would never hurt me like that.”

“Love...you.” His eyelids fluttered, and then closed.

She put her hands on each side of his face. “I love you, too. Mark. Do you hear me? We’ll get through this together.”

No response.

She closed her eyes.

I can’t fall apart. I have to help him.
This can’t be happening.

Wait. Mark never went anywhere without his cell phone. Frantically, she searched his coat and pants pockets. Not there. It must be in his shirt pocket.

She reached out with trembling fear, past the growing spot of red, pulled his jacket aside, and then slipped her hand inside, feeling for the pocket. She looked away, ignoring the blood. Bile rose, but she choked it back down.

Her fingers grasped the familiar shape of the phone, and she pulled it out in triumph. She looked down at the blood covered numbers and shuddered.