“What about Cody? You don’t want to tell him or the others?” The boat captain was a friend, but she didn’t trust him or the others to keep her secret. They might likely reveal it accidentally, not intentionally.

She shook her head. “Not yet. Not right now. The fewer people that know, the better.”

* * *

The next email arrived one Wednesday afternoon after Bill had returned to Montana and while she was home alone. Rob was at work, just starting two days on duty.


A little stork told me you and your man have been busy. The more, the merrier.


Laura ran for the bathroom. She collapsed in front of the toilet, sick, sobbing. Twenty minutes later, she finally pulled herself together and called Det. Thomas. He wasn’t in, but she left a voice mail and he called her back a few minutes later.

“He knows I’m pregnant. How can he know that?”

Thomas was quiet for a long moment. “Maybe he’s someone close to you. We need to reinvestigate—”

“No. You ruled out everyone around me the first time. We know it wasn’t Rob or Steve or Cody. It wasn’t any of my friends. It damn sure wasn’t my brother. This guy has got to be local.”

Thomas went quiet again. “Laura, maybe it would be best if you left town for a while.”

Rage washed through her. “No! I am not putting my life on hold again for this son of a bitch. He ran me off once, he’s not doing it again. I want him to come after me once and for all so I can put a fucking bullet in his head!”

“You need to calm do—”

“Calm down? How dare you! You’re not the one being stalked. You have no idea what I’m going through.”

“No, you’re absolutely right, I don’t, but getting this upset isn’t good for you or the baby.”

She fell silent. He was right, of course, but she didn’t want to admit it.

“Did you tell Rob yet?”

“He’s at work. I don’t want to worry him.”

“You need to call him.”

“No. There’s nothing he can do.”

“I’ll get Hutchinson working on the latest email. Call Rob.” He hung up.

She stared at the phone, trembling. She wanted this over with, wanted the bastard out of their life.

I can’t even enjoy my pregnancy in peace.

Finally, she called him. She almost hoped it’d go to his voice mail, but he answered.

“What’s up, baby girl?”

She broke down crying and it took her several tries to get the story out. “Calm down,” he said. “I want you to pack. I’m going to call Sully.”

When she tried to argue with him, he overruled her. “Stop,” he said, taking Dom tone with her. “Are you listening to me?”

He didn’t raise his voice. In fact, he lowered it, forcing her to listen. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Go pack. I’ll call Sully. Then call Seth and have him come get you and drive you up to Sully’s. You be ready to go when he gets there.”

She didn’t respond.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Are you going to obey me?”

“Yes, Sir. But what about Doogie?” He weighed nearly a hundred pounds and still acted like a puppy.

“Let me worry about Doogie. I will call you back in five minutes, and you’d better be getting packed.”

She wanted to break down crying again and knew she wouldn’t—couldn’t—disappoint him. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Sir.”

When he called her back five minutes later, she was already halfway packed and Sully had okayed her bringing Doogie with her to their house.

Two hours later, Seth was pulling his truck into Sully, Mac, and Clarisse’s Tarpon Springs driveway.

Clarisse hurried down the steps first and engulfed Laura in a tearful hug as soon as she stepped from the truck.

“Hey, momma,” Clarisse said as she laid her hand on Laura’s tummy. “How you doing?”

“I’ve had better days.”

Mac had made his way downstairs, with Sully behind him.

“Go on,” Seth said. “We’ve got your bags.” He grabbed Doogie’s leash as the dog tried to lunge out of the cab and head for the bushes. “And I’ll walk the moose.”

“Thanks, Seth.”

Clarisse hooked her arm through Laura’s as Mac and Sully walked over to her.

“Hey, sweetie,” Sully said.

“Hey.” She burst into tears as the three of them gathered around her in a hug.

“It’s okay,” Clarisse softly said. A hard edge crept into her friend’s voice. “You have your gun, right?”

Laura gave a tearful laugh. “Yeah. I’m afraid Sully and Sir would both spank me if I didn’t.”

“Might make me go a little switchy myself,” Clarisse admitted. “You keep that on you, even here. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Seth rejoined them, a more subdued Doogie now walking on a slack lead. “Who gets this guy?”

Mac smiled and reached for the leash. “I think Bart’s going to have his paws full trying to dominate this guy.”

“Oh, my god,” Laura said. “Please don’t let Doogie chew any butt plugs!”

* * *

Laura stayed with her friends for a week, spending time at the local gun range with Sully and improving both her aim and her confidence with her gun. When no more emails from the stalker arrived, she begged Rob to let her come home.

He finally relented and came to get her. He had three days off on rotation, and they spent it locked in the house, making love, curled in bed together, and watching TV.

Rob didn’t want her to return to work, but finally gave in on that point, too. Laura tried to hide the worst of her morning sickness from everyone. It wasn’t easy. She had to stay home until well past noon every day, usually when her stomach decided to behave.

As the weeks passed with no new emails from MedicineMan, there was still no sign of her missing journals. She’d scoured the laptop, Rob’s computer, her desktop, and even Rob’s personal laptop to no avail. They weren’t on the shop computer, they weren’t in Dropbox. Wherever she put them, they were well hid. Either she kept the file in some place she had yet to discover, or she’d deleted it by mistake.

It didn’t seem plausible she’d stop journaling, but she finally had to let go of her need to find them. If she found them, she found them. It was consuming far too much of her energy.

Her pregnancy was four months along now, and while still on edge, MedicineMan’s absence allowed her to resume some semblance of a normal routine. She was in the dive shop one Saturday afternoon when the boat returned from a dive.

Don Kern was listed as one of the passengers.

Shit. She hadn’t checked the manifest.

When he spotted her he acted friendly but not creepy. Even better, he was holding a woman’s hand. “Laura, this is my girlfriend, Tammy.”

Whew. Apparently he’d found a happier hunting ground than the staff at Lemon Bay Dive. “Nice to meet you,” Laura said with a genuine smile as she shook hands with the woman. “I hope we see a lot of you around here.”

The woman beamed a radiant smile at Kern. “I hope so, too. This has been so much fun!”

Laura wasn’t allowed to lift tanks. She couldn’t dive. She couldn’t work on regulators because of the risk of exposure to cleaning chemicals.

She couldn’t do much, it felt like. In the office, she pulled her iPad from her purse. Rob and Steve both said she’d used it a lot…before. But she hadn’t found much use for it other than reading the older journal files Bill had loaded on it for her. She didn’t like browsing the Internet on it, no matter what Rob and Steve told her she’d done, because her laptop had a larger screen.

Sarah was in the middle of doing a replenishment order on the office computer and Laura didn’t want to make her move. She sat at the other desk and, with the iPad and its little portable Bluetooth keyboard, she started working on her novel after using Dropbox to download the latest backup copy.

Sarah stepped out of the office to check inventory levels on a couple of things for the order.

Laura needed to look something up on the Internet, but still didn’t want to disturb Sarah’s order. She clicked on the pull-down of sites to find a quick link for Google and saw a list of other frequently visited websites.

She froze as she studied it. One of the listed links was a site called www.classfriends.link.

Why does that sound familiar?

She closed her eyes, feeling dizzy, and grabbed at the edge of the desk to steady her. This was maybe the second time she used the Internet on the iPad since the attack.

Since before.

She figured out how to access the browser history. Sure enough, the last time she’d accessed that site was the day before the attack.

Then she accidentally hit the Home button and the main screen appeared. One of those hunches hit her, the kind that recent experience told her was maybe more of a memory than a hunch. She swiped through the menu screens until she found what she was looking for.

An icon for the Evernote app.

With trembling fingers, she tapped it.

No wonder she’d never found the journals. She didn’t find her journals on the computers because they weren’t on the computers—they were stored here, on her iPad, via Evernote. She could have accessed them from anywhere if she’d had it installed on the other computers.

She closed her eyes and swore. The Evernote app had been on her phone, and early on she’d had Bill delete it and anything else she wasn’t sure how to use.

Fuck. All this time there they were, waiting for her to find them.