Just Past Midnight

Dani shuddered at the implication.

“You see, without the object of his obsession, an erotomanic feels as if a part of himself is missing. That’s why his delusions are so tenacious. Without his object—without you—he’s nothing.”

Dani wanted to put her hands over her ears and block the whole bizarre conversation, but she couldn’t do that. She had to face the reality of what was happening to her. Her family’s safety depended on it. “Why me? What did I do?”

Dr. Gaines made a helpless gesture with his hand. “It could have been something as simple as a smile or a kind word that captured his fascination. In all likelihood, he’s someone who has had little or no real contact with you, but he’s so deluded that he actually believes he’s having a relationship with you.”

“So he had to kill Paul and Michael?” Dani cried in horror. “He had to hurt my father?”

“He felt threatened by them. Erotomanic stalkers can be very vindictive. They believe their victims love them, and they can become violent when they perceive obstacles that are keeping them from that love.”

Dani closed her eyes. “Then why aren’t the police looking for him? Why do they think I’m the one who did something wrong?”

“Because most police departments, particularly those in small towns, still don’t know how to deal with stalkers. Until recently, stalking wasn’t even a crime in most states. Your case is particularly complex because your secret admirer isn’t just delusional and violent, he’s also extremely cunning. He planned those murders very carefully. He even taught himself to mimic your handwriting so precisely that if you took those letters to the police, they could only conclude that you’d written them yourself. And in each case, he made sure that you were the one who had the most to gain from the victim’s death. He made sure that you had both motive and opportunity. There wasn’t enough evidence to arrest or convict you, but certainly enough to cast doubt upon your character, and therefore, your credibility. It’s another way he has of gaining power over you. Not only has he isolated you from your family and your community and even from future relationships, but by planting your necklace near that fuel tank, he’s also proven how easy it would be to frame you. In essence, he now has total control over your life.”

“What can I do to stop him?” Dani asked desperately.

“The truth?” Dr. Gaines glanced away. “Nothing. There’s nothing you can do to stop him.”

LYING IN HER DARKENED BEDROOM, Darian felt the old panic well inside her again, but she shoved it away, reminding herself she was safe here. She’d regained control of her life. She had a new name, a carefully chosen identity. Only one person in the whole world knew how to find her, and he would never tell. He would never betray her because he was the one who had saved her. Yes, she was finally safe. Her family was safe. She didn’t just have a new name, she had a new career, a whole new life. The inheritance from Michael had allowed her to start over, and she’d used it to buy herself security.

When she’d first moved to Houston, she’d selected her town house because the complex was ensconced behind eight-foot walls, and both cameras and guards monitored the electronic security gate around the clock. No one could get in without proper authorization.

Darian had chosen her particular home because it was wedged between two other units, and she liked knowing who was on either side of her. And for the past five years, she’d had the same neighbors—to the right, the Lindermanns, a young, professional couple, and to her left, Mr. Delgado, a retired oil executive.

Darian hadn’t gotten to know the Lindermanns or Mr. Delgado well, but she’d been comforted by their presence. Then, a few weeks ago, Mr. Delgado had decided to move to Phoenix to be near his daughter. He’d left abruptly, and now his empty town house made Darian uneasy.

Slipping out of bed, she stole across the room and eased into the hallway to check the upstairs control panel on her security system—just as she had countless times on countless sleepless nights.

Reassured that it was set and working, she returned to the bedroom and walked over to the window to glance out, reminding herself that this was one of the safest areas of the city.

But as Darian drew back the curtain, she gasped. A man stood across the street, smoking underneath a streetlight.

What was he doing out there? she wondered in panic. It was a little late for someone to be out for a stroll or even to be walking a dog.

As Darian watched, the man lifted his cigarette, took a long drag, then threw the butt to the pavement and ground it beneath his foot. There was something familiar about that action. Something…symbolic…

She put a hand to her mouth. Did she know him? Had she seen him do that before?

He tilted his head slightly, as if staring up at her window, and Darian jerked away, letting the curtain fall back into place.

Thoroughly unnerved now, she wondered if she should call the front gate and alert the guard of the man’s presence. But…he wasn’t doing anything illegal, and besides, he had to be a resident of the community or he would never have been allowed inside the gate.

She had nothing to worry about. Nothing to be afraid of. Not even her own family knew where she was. She was perfectly safe here.

Still, Darian had an almost overwhelming need to connect with someone who could reassure her. Someone who wouldn’t ask a lot of questions.

Opening her nightstand drawer, she removed the disposable phone she’d purchased several days ago. The throw-away wasn’t as anonymous as using a calling card at a pay phone, but it was a lot more difficult to trace than a landline or a regular cell phone.

Punching in her brother’s phone number, she waited through several rings before he finally picked up. It was the dead of night, but he sounded wide awake when he answered.

“It’s me,” Darian said softly.

“Dani?”

“Don’t call me that.”

She heard a muffled voice, then a second later, a door closed in the background. Evidently her brother wasn’t alone.

As if to confirm her poor timing, Nathan said impatiently, “What the hell am I supposed to call you? You won’t tell me your new name or where you live. I can’t even get in touch with you if there’s an emergency. I’m at the mercy of your calls, which are damn few.”

Darian sighed. “We’ve been through this, Nathan. You know why I can’t tell you where I am.”

“Because you think my phone could be bugged or the call could somehow be traced. That’s why I gave you my cell phone number.”

“Cell phones can be monitored.”

“Do you know how paranoid that sounds?”

“Of course I do. And do you have any idea how nightmarish it is to know that two people died because they loved me? Because—”

“Someone else wants you,” Nathan finished. “So badly he’ll kill to make sure no one else has you.”

Darian was still trembling from the dream. She slid out of bed and walked back over to the window. Parting the curtain, she peered out. The man was gone.

“Are you still there?” Her brother’s voice sounded so strong he might have been in the next room.

“Yes, I’m here.”

“So why did you call, Dani?” He said her name almost defiantly.

She closed her eyes. Her brother’s lingering resentment was still something she didn’t understand. “I’m…lonely, I guess.”

“Then come home.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can. Come home and we’ll go to the police together. We’ll make them listen.”

“It wouldn’t do any good,” Darian said. “I tried that before, remember? They didn’t believe me when Paul died, and they won’t believe me now. He’s seen to that.”

Nathan’s voice hardened. “Has it ever occurred to you that your little disappearing act only makes you look guiltier? Maybe that was part of his plan, too.”

Darian closed her eyes briefly. “It doesn’t matter. He can’t find me here. And as long as I’m out of the picture, Mother and Dad are safe. And so are you.”

Nathan said nothing for a moment, and in the ensuing silence, Darian heard another door open and close somewhere in his house. Then a whisper. Someone had come back into the room with him. Someone who was trying very hard not to make her presence known.

“I’ve interrupted something,” she murmured. “I should let you go.”