Stalk Me

“Tell us the whole thing. Walk me through what happened at the club before James got involved.”

I take a deep breath.

“I was standing on the edge of the dance floor talking to Brooklyn when there was a commotion. A guy who was dressed like one of your security guys—dark suit, sunglasses —picked me up off the ground and told me he had to get me somewhere safe. I immediately panicked and assumed that meant it wasn’t safe and that something bad must’ve happened. I was afraid the stalker had got to Mom, so I told him no. That I needed to find her. That’s when he said, The whore is fine, and when I realized he was the stalker and not a security guy. I tried screaming, but the music was too loud and no one could hear me. And everyone was gathering near the commotion. Then I saw part of his tattoo and realized that not only was he the stalker, but that I knew him.”

“Ohmigawd, Keatyn,” Mom says.

I look at her. “I tried to plead with him, but he just laughed. He thought it was fu

I stop and run my hand across my face then back through my hair. “Like, really strong, and I couldn’t get away. I knew I wasn’t going to get away. I knew what he wanted. I knew he was going to kidnap me, and there was nothing I could do about it. The door kept getting closer, and I was freaking out, full-on panicking. Then this voice started talking to me. It calmed me down.”

“A voice?” Mom asks.

My eyes fill with fresh tears. I nod and bite my lip. “A voice that sounded like Daddy. He told me I couldn’t let him get me out the door and reminded me of a stupid self defense move I learned in P.E. So I did it. I smashed my heel into his foot just as he was getting ready to open the door. And it worked. He loosened his grip on me, I broke free, and ran.” I let out at big breath of air. I’m exhausted. “You guys know the rest.”

“What are we going to do?” Tommy says flatly.

Garrett Smith stands up and takes control. He puts his hand out to the detective closest to him and says, “We appreciate everything you’ve done. We’ll take it from here.”

The detectives nod at him, mutter something about if they can do anything else to let them know, and are escorted out the door.

Tommy hands me his glass of scotch.

Garrett comes back and sits in front of me. “Tell me how you know him.”

I cover my face with my hand and shake my head no. “I can’t. You’ll be mad at me. But I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know.”

Tommy rubs my back. “None of us knew, baby. You’ve got to tell us. We aren’t going to be mad. We’re so glad you were smart enough to figure it out when you did.”

“But that’s just it. I’m not smart.” I look at my mom. “Mom, remember the hot older guy I had di

“Yes?”

“It was him.”

“What do you mean?”

“The stalker, Thaddeus whatever. He either goes by Vincent Sharpe or was pretending to be him.”

Mom’s legs buckle. James grabs her elbow. “Oh my God, Keatyn. You had di

Garrett flips back through his notes and mutters, “Sharpe. Where did I see that name?”

I answer. “He said his grandmother was Viviane Sharpe.”

“Yes, that’s it. He wasn’t lying about that. So you know him? Went to di

“Basically, yes.”

Everyone in the room starts to murmur and ask questions.

Garrett stands up and holds up his hands to get everyone to stop. “Look, I know you all have a million questions, but I’m going to ask them. We’ve got to piece this all together and figure out why he went from long-time fan to kidnapper. So, Abby, we know he’s been a fan of yours for years, but it was never a problem. When did things first escalate? Was it when you found the note in the backpack? When I was brought in?”

Mom thinks. “No, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal at the time, but before that, he broke into my trailer on set.”

“And he stole a family photo,” James says. “One of Keatyn and Abby on the beach in Hawaii.”

Garrett surmises, “So he sees a photo and instead of seeing Keatyn, he sees the Abby he first fell in love with in the photo. Young Abby.”

“That was the same day I met him. I remember, because you were in the living room with all those men in suits when I came back from shopping with Sander. It was the day we broke up.”

“Where did you meet him? When you were shopping?”

“No. On our beach.”

Mom audibly gasps. “He came to our house?”

Brooklyn says, “He was on the beach, down more toward my house. He told us he was buying a house up the beach and asked me to teach him to surf. He seemed cool, except for the way he was staring at Keatyn. I didn’t like it, but he quickly apologized for staring. He told us she looked just like Abby in A Day at the Lake, and how he had a big crush on her when he was fourteen. He said Keatyn brought back some memories.”

Garrett says, “Okay, do you remember when you saw him next?”

I nod. “Yeah, it was that same night. He was at Damian’s last gig. He kinda flirted with me. Told me he wanted to make a movie. I laughed and asked him if that line usually worked for him in the bar. I kinda blew him off, but he told me he was doing a remake of A Day at the Lake. I joked that I didn’t want to stand around in a bikini and scream. He told me it wouldn’t be like that. That I’d be a kick ass heroine and it’d be a blockbuster. He gave me his business card. Told me to call him. I didn’t. The script wasn’t even written. I’m not dumb.” I close my eyes tightly. “Well, I thought I wasn’t dumb.”

I take another slow sip of Tommy’s scotch and slowly open my eyes. The burn of the scotch on my throat is a harsh reminder that this isn’t just a bad dream.

Garrett says, “So he fantasized about remaking Abby’s movie. Now he’s found an Abby look-a-like to play the role. Still, there has to be something in his life that happened. Something that made him snap.”

“His grandmother died,” I say. “He idolized her. She was an old film star, and he said she was a lady. He went on and on about how Grandmother—that’s what he called her, never Grandma, always Grandmother—respected Abby because she never took off her clothes in her movies; that hers were clean, like they were in the old days. He had a bad childhood, and it sounds like his mom was pretty slutty. She was married like six times. The last guy she married had money, but didn’t want kids, so she dumped him at his grandmother’s house. It was good for him though. It sounded like he kind of had low self-esteem, like maybe kids used to make fun of him. But his grandmother told him he could fake confidence. He said eventually he didn’t have to fake it anymore.”

“So the woman he idolizes dies. Okay,” Garrett says. “What else?”

“I helped him spread her ashes on our beach. He was very sad. I don’t think he was faking it. He sobbed on my shoulder. I hugged him and cried too. He was buying the beach house for her birthday. Apparently, she met the love of her life on this beach and was happiest there. She wanted Vincent to find true love. He told me she would have loved that he met me on their beach. The next day, he texted me and asked me to di

“That’s the night Barbara called and said you were having di

“Yeah. We drank wine on the patio first.”

Garrett says, “What happened that night?”

I think about it. “We talked all about the movie, but then not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even though we talked about the movie, it was like . . .” I trail off, and finally whisper, “I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”

Garrett touches my arm, and I immediately flinch. “Did something happen?”