Stalking Her Sweetly - MINK Page 0,34

Jamie, but she’s a good enough counterfeit to fool some.

I was hoping she was still in the planning stages. A sigh pulls from me, and I shake my head. She’s too far gone. Whenever I go to work, I plan for months, meticulously cataloging a person’s life, habits, sins--everything. And when that’s done, I make my move. From the looks of things, Lindsay’s well past planning and firmly in the action category. She’s primed to strike.

“Fuck.” We’re out of time. I have to stay with Jamie, possibly get her out of here and stash her somewhere safe until I can take care of her Lindsay problem.

I shut down my monitors and stride out of the dining room. As I enter the hall, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Something’s wrong.

My walk turns into a sprint as I dash out onto my front porch.

Jamie’s living room light is off, her car gone.

“No, no, no!” I reach for my phone, fumble it, manage to catch it before it hits the deck, then call her.

It rings.

And rings.

Keeps ringing.

She picks up.

“Thank God, Jamie. Where are you? We need to--”

“Oh, is it recording right now?” Her voice message clicks on. “I thought it said it would beep, but I didn’t hear a beep so--”

The message cuts off.

“Fuck!” I yell into the night.

I dial her again as I run back to the dining room and wake my computer. With a few clicks, I’m into her phone monitoring app.

“Jamie 2.0. Who the fuck are you?” I glean from the messages that this is the new coworker Jamie mentioned. But she has the same name. And Jamie has never seen her face. It’s Lindsay. Has to be.

I catch an address where they’re meeting. But that text was sent half an hour ago. Jamie’s long gone.

Forcing myself to stay calm, I open the cabinets along the side of the room and pull out my tools. I need weapons and a cleanup kit, and I need to hurry. Once I’ve got what I need, I’m out the door and racing to Jamie, to the place where Lindsay lured her.

If that woman has harmed a single hair on my girl’s head, I’ll have no mercy. No one hurts my dreamgirl and lives. Lindsay thinks she’s a stalker, a killer? I’ll show her how a real fucking psycho goes to work.

22

Jamie

I check the address to make sure I’m at the right place. The coffee shop doesn't look open. I put my car in park so I can get out and look around. Maybe they’re open, but just not lit up? I grab my things and step out of my car, then check up and down the street before I fire off another text. Honestly, the whole street looks dead. This is turning into a lot more effort than I anticipated. The longer it takes me to do this, the longer it will take me to get back to Silas.

Me: Are you sure you gave me the right address?

Jamie 2.0: Yep! My partners own the coffee shop. It’s closed right now. Come around to the back, and I’ll let you in. We’ll have the place all to ourselves.

I step to the side of the building, and glance down to the side of the building into the alley. The area looks safe enough. Something about this seems a little unsettling, but I know I’m being paranoid. It’s a coffee shop, Jamie. Nothing is going to happen to you here. No one even knows that you're here to begin with.

I hold my purse tight as I make my way down the long alley. “Oh.” I trip over one of the cobblestones and barely manage to catch myself, but not before my phone falls out of my hand and hits the ground. I know before I even see it that it’s going to be ruined. That cracking sound was very specific.

“No.” I groan. I bend down and pick it up to see the screen is busted. Bad. I try to get it to light up, and it does, but that’s it. Just a little light showing through a lot of cracks. Great. I stuff it back into my purse.

I should have stayed home. I should have bit the bullet and went over to Silas’s house instead of trying to waste time. I take a deep breath and continue walking. Why do I have to be such a klutz all the time? How many phones have I destroyed? They even made them