"This one is Donavan McClane Beecher." Detective Jameson dropped another photograph next to the other.
Joselyn leaned forward and studied the picture intently. It was a snapshot like one would use for a passport or work identification badge. In it, Beecher wore a polo type shirt with the top two buttons undone and the barest hint of a white tee-shirt peeking out. There were a lot of amazing familial similarities between the two. Even if Detective Jameson hadn't told her they were related, it would have been obvious in the photographs. The slope of the forehead was the same as were the too thin lips and pointed chins. McClane's hair was a medium brown and straight. Beecher's dirty blonde sported gentle waves throughout. Beecher's nose was a little wider and his cheekbones a tiny bit lower. The most striking difference were the eyes. McClane's dark hazel looked coldly sinister. Beecher's were a few shades lighter and conveyed a more caring warmth. She sat back in her seat.
Beside her, Maddox picked up both photographs and studied them carefully. "This makes a lot of sense. How sure are you?"
Taking the photographs from Maddox's hands, Jameson placed them back into the folder as he continued. "Almost positive. There are too many coincidences for it to not be a viable possibility. I'm sure you noticed how closely they resembled each other. Their mothers were fraternal twins and when they married, each had only one child. The women named their sons with the middle name of the other's surname. The two boys were extremely close, born three months apart and raised next door to each other almost as brothers. According to neighbors who knew both men as they grew up, one was never seen without the other. They remained close until McClane went off to college and obtained double masters in literature and teaching while Beecher went to trade school to become a journeyman electrician."
River jumped in with the question bouncing around in Joselyn's mind. "Why do you think Beecher is her stalker?"
"The two were close growing up. They even shared a couple of girlfriends in school. Beecher identified his cousin's body. As soon as it was released he had his cousin cremated. He has since vanished. I spoke to his employer. He hasn't been seen in months. His apartment manager said he was never late on rent but after his cousin died, he only came by one time to pick up some personal items. He broke the lease and told the manager to do whatever he wanted with the furnishings. Then there's this." He pulled out another set of six photographs and splayed them out over the table. In them were six identical necklaces consisting of a small round puffed disk with a dove engraved on the front of a delicate silver chain. Hesitating a moment, he pulled out a seventh photo but this one depicted a piece of paper with writing on it. Joselyn read the words and her blood ran cold.
Six Blossoms, six Doves
Six times to fall in love
Gossamer wings learned to fly
Seven's time now draws nigh.
The writing was the same, the exact same. This note was penned by the man who had been stalking her. "Donavan Beecher," she said in a shaky voice.
The detective nodded. "Or, at least we are pretty sure it was him. These are memorial necklaces. Inside each disk are a few grams of ashes. They are human, though who they belong to, we can't say. I have a gut feeling it's Douglas McClane."
River's face took on his hard, Frost Giant persona. "Who received the necklaces?"
"They arrived yesterday, special delivery to the mothers of Douglas McClane's victims." He flinched a moment as if trying to figure out the best way to continue. With a sigh, he spilled the words out in a rush. "These were special order items, hand-made by a silversmith in Nevada and extremely easy to track. We contacted him to get some information. He told us they were ordered three months ago by a man in Florida who identified himself as John Michaels."
"Deidre's love interest in my books." Joselyn felt the room tilt. Steeling her nerves, she swallowed. "Okay, keep going."
"These things are not cheap. We're talking he paid three hundred dollars each for them."
"Eighteen hundred dollars to send a message?" Maddox wrinkled his brow. "It doesn't make sense."
Jameson winced. "No, not eighteen hundred, twenty-one hundred. He ordered seven of them."
The stillness of the room was shattered when Maddox leaped to his feet and swore. He paced back and forth, scrubbing his face with his hand and pushing his fingers through his hair. He continued striding around the room until he finally stopped in front of Joselyn. Dropping to one knee, he took her cold hands in his and squeezed gently.
"You know I'll protect you, don't you? You know no matter what, nothing is ever going to happen to you." He searched her eyes. "Please tell me you know this."
She swallowed and looked at their clasped hands. Here in her house was the only place she felt safe and a big part of it was because of this man kneeling in front of her. Slowly she raised her head and nodded. "I know," she whispered. "I know you will do everything in your power to keep me safe. I know nothing will touch me or hurt me as long as you are here. It doesn't mean the thought of Donavan Beecher already purchasing a necklace with his psychopath cousin's ashes for my mother doesn't scare the living daylights out of me though."
He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them. Letting one go, he grasped the other and turned toward his friend and former team member. "Now what?"
"Considering everything we've learned, I felt it prudent to get everyone up to speed. I've contacted her former handler with WitSec, Jonathan Hanger. After briefing him on what we know and suspect he wasn't too happy. He said given the nature of the threat, he can easily get her back into the program until Beecher is caught."
Joselyn shook her head. "No."
"Joselyn," Maddox said softly. "Maybe it's a good idea."
"No!" She pulled her hand out of his and stood. Pacing back and forth, she chewed on her thumb. "I'm not going back into witness protection. I'm not! Douglas McClane stole three years of my life. Three I will never get back. Now I'm finally starting to find my place again and his cousin wants to send me back under a rock? Not happening. Like I said, I trust Maddox completely. He has made this place into a fortress nobody can breach. I'll take extra precautions to not allow myself to be put into a position where he can get to me. I have to go to the convention in Atlanta this weekend but I'll cancel the one next month as well as the three upcoming public appearances. I think I have two podcast interviews in the coming week but they can be done remotely from here." She nodded and continued to pace. "Yeah, that will work. I'll go crazy from cabin fever but it's better than the alternative."
Maddox stopped her and pulled her into his arms. She melted against him and laid her head against his shoulder. "I'm so proud of you, honey. So damn proud! I know this isn't easy for you but I promise I'm not going to leave your side. Look at this situation like a golden opportunity for you to get in some serious writing. And, when the cabin fever gets to be too much, I'll figure out a way to safely get you the space you need. In the meantime, I'll ply you with hot chocolate and green apple candy to your heart's content."
His comment did what he intended and she relaxed marginally. Chuckling softly, she stepped out of his arms. "Just not at the same time because that would be kind of gross."
He laughed, the deep rumble which always made her toes curl and her heart skip. Maddox didn't laugh nearly enough but she had hopes once Donavan Beecher was caught, she would see what she could do to put a few more laughs into his life. He deserved it and so did she.
A cough drew their attention and she started. For a moment, she had forgotten Detective Jameson was still there.
"Well, if you do leave the house, let me know and I'll get a couple of beat cops to help keep an eye on things. As it is, we've scheduled more drive-bys with marked cars in your neighborhood. I talked to your HOA and they are going to increase security measures for the time being by hiring an extra guard for the gates. I've given them a picture of Beecher so they can be on the lookout for him."
"Great, my dues are going to double," she quipped.
"Do
uble or not, it's better to be safe than sorry. You're in a good community here with a lot of safety measures already built in. A few more won't hurt and it will keep your neighbors vigilant." Detective Jameson stood and gathered his file together. They followed him to the door and stopped when he did. "When I asked River to come help out here, I seriously thought it would be just a few days of him making a presence around you until this yokel got tired and moved on. Now I know it isn't some random guy, I'm happier he's here. Joselyn, you couldn't have anyone better watching your six than Maddox Benson."
They said their goodbyes as Detective Jameson opened the door and exited. She punched in her code to rearm the system and turned to Maddox. "Alright, we have a name. Now what?"
"Now, we hunker down, stay vigilant and wait."
Chapter 12
Watching Joselyn work was quickly becoming one of River's favorite things to do. She was well organized, calm and knew exactly what she was doing, even in the frantic bustle of forty authors setting up booths for the Atlanta Fangasm. Placing the last box of books on the floor under the table, he stepped back and took in the tangible excitement of a successful author's world.
She stacked the books carefully on the table, removed several mugs, pens, bookmarks and assorted other swag from their boxes and placed them to the side. Arranging them carefully, she looked over her table, stepped in and arranged them again. After the fourth time, she muttered something under her breath which sounded like, "off balance" before starting again.
River was hyper aware of every person who took a step toward their little area in the corner. When they had first arrived, he took one look at her booth location and had balked. It was bad enough she insisted on coming after everything she had been through but the original booth locale was not going to cut muster. She had been placed front and center of the massive room with access on all sides. What followed had been extremely stressful. She stomped her foot and glared at him as he insisted on loading her back into his truck and turning right around for New Orleans if she couldn't see reason. The heated discussion drew several looks until they moved into a back hallway out of view. He explained to her there was absolutely no way he would ever be able to relax with the present setup. Finally understanding his position, she relented and called the event organizers. Once she explained the situation to them, they were happy to exchange her location with another author - one who was overjoyed to be placed in the more desirous location. Joselyn wasn't as happy in the back corner since she had specifically requested the more visible location at registration. "If it keeps that glowering look off your face, it's worth it," she had told him. "Women want their hunky models to be sexy, not snarling. Well, unless he's a shifter but I don't write in that genre."
Her attempt at humor had fallen flat. He simply was not happy and wished he could take her back home where he could control the situation better. He knew there would be precious little sleep for him over the next few days.
A cold bottle of water was thrust in his hand. "Relax. I think you are more uptight about this thing than I am. You just have to stand there and look all smoldering hot. I have to talk to these people and play nice."
"Alright. I'll try to behave," he agreed. "Is it okay if I only growl at the men?"
She tapped her lip with one finger. "Only if they get fresh. Otherwise, they will think I'm taken."
He arched an eyebrow at her as if to say, "Aren't you?"
She swallowed at the heated stare and fiddled with the array of permanent pens on the table. Glancing at her watch she took a deep breath. "Almost time," she muttered as she sat.
Kneeling beside her, he opened a small box and pulled out a little crystal bowl. He placed it beside her hand. "There, now it's perfect."
She opened the top and the smile she flashed him could rival the sun. "Oh, Maddox, how thoughtful!" Inside were her favorite green apple candies in their little individual wrappers.
"There's a whole bag under here. I thought it would be a nice way to share a little bit of yourself with your readers." He placed a kiss on her cheek. Plucking one out he unwrapped it. "And it has nothing at all to do with my own addiction." He popped it into his mouth with a wink. "Good luck," he told her as he stood again, taking a step back against the wall beside her banner. Crossing his arms over his chest, he adopted the persona Joselyn had nicknamed, "Frost Giant". She could call it whatever she liked, as long as nobody got too close.
Over the course of the next four hours, Joselyn signed autographs, distributed books, took photos and spent time with her fans. It was nerve-wracking for him and he tensed every time a man moved toward her but he knew he couldn't suffocate her. So he manned up, kept a close vigilance and remained silent.
"Jos, Jos, Jos!"
A vivacious woman of approximately five-foot-three with bright red curls piled on top of her head and sparkling green eyes behind a pair of black horn-rimmed glasses jogged over and dropped her bag beside the table. As Joselyn stood, the new woman threw her arms around her and hugged hard. Plopping into the empty chair she let out a huff and fanned herself with a paperback copy of Mayhem and Mixed Nuts, Deidre Files Book Two from the table.
"What are you doing shoved back in this corner? I know you had booth nine reserved yet here you are clear down in the nether regions of the thirties. What gives?"
Joselyn rolled her eyes and nodded toward River. "Security."
The woman's jaw dropped. "Oh my stars, is this the infamous River I've heard so much about? Well of course it is." She stood and shoved her hand at him. "Annabeth Switcher. I'm Jos's agent."
River took her hand and shook it. "Nice to meet you Annabeth. I have heard quite a bit about you as well."
"Lies, every bit of it," Annabeth joked as she retrieved the book to fan herself again. "Gracious, it's hotter than a turkey's butt in November. Doesn't the air work in here?" She eyed River and pursed her lips. "You are one seriously good looking man. I don't normally handle models but I would make an exception for you. I bet we could have you on the cover of a dozen books by Christmas." She dug into her bag and pulled out a card. "Here, you call me and I'll get it set up."
River looked at the card she had thrust into his hand. "I don't think..."
"It's okay honey, you don't have to think. Just flex those muscles and look smoldering. The photographers will do the rest." She poked at River's bicep and squealed. "Delicious." She hesitated for a moment as a frown creased her brow. "Where was I? Oh yes, Jos, are you planning on going to the party tonight?"
River chuckled to himself. Joselyn's agent was a handful, no doubt. However, she had a certain enduring quality as well. He studied her as she sat talking to Joselyn between fan visits. Shorter than Joselyn but a few more curves, she reminded him of his sister, Marla, and shook his head. Watching the two together, he could see them hitting it off as well.
"Oh, you have to come to the party. It's only going to be an hour. Margaret, Bethany, and Delilah are all going to be there. I know you don't want to miss it. Remember St. Louis last fall?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Joselyn looked at him. "I don't know. Maddox wants to keep my outings as few as possible."
Annabeth winked at him. "You'll bring her and I'm sure she'll be safe with all those muscles at her side. Knowing the women who will be there tonight, you will be in more danger then she will. It's mostly romance writers. Their minds stay in the gutter, bless their little hearts."
Maybe it was the grin on Annabeth's face reminding him of Marla or maybe it was the hopeful plea on Joselyn's but he nodded. "Okay. We can go for a little bit. I'd hate to disrupt your fun. You have to listen to whatever I say, though."
Annabeth stood and pushed against his arm. "Nothing is going to happen. It's a private party with the authors and other literary professionals. Oh which reminds me, I saw Tia in the lobby. She was rushing off for something or another but I knew you two haven't met yet. She's going to be there, too. Seeing as you two drive each other up a wall, it's high time you met, don
't you think?"
"Tia? That's wonderful. I'd love to finally meet the woman who reigns in my words."
"Good, good." She glanced down at her cell. "I need to take care of a few things before the party. See you at six in ballroom two."
She started to walk off, stopped and returned. With a sheepish grin, she dropped the book she had been using as a fan on the table. "I'd forget my head if it weren't glued on tight. See you tonight," she called out and disappeared into the crowd.
"So, that was Annabeth?" River asked with a chuckle.
"Yep, that was Annabeth."
"She's what my father calls, 'tiny but mighty'. Reminds me a bit of my aunt and my sister." He lifted his chin toward the table. "Alright, Ms. Author, you have a line forming. It's only forty-five minutes left, so get busy."
She smiled at him one of those breathtaking smiles of hers. "Aye, aye Sir," she said as she snapped a salute.
He shook his head and resumed scanning the room. Less than an hour to go and he could finally relax in their suite for a bit before the party. As much as he wished he could shield her, he knew he couldn't deny letting her go when she spent so much time alone. The outing would do her good. However, he would feel a lot better when he could hide her away in her house where nobody could get to her except him.
The thought of touching her made his breath catch. Since the night she rebuked him, he had been careful to avoid a similar circumstance again. It was hard, no pun intended, to keep his hands to himself. Even now, he wanted to reach out and stroke her hair, to nuzzle her neck and hear her make those little sighs of happiness whenever they spent time alone. Forcing his mind back to the crowded room before him, he pushed those thoughts away. Joselyn's safety demanded his attention just as his heart was fast becoming as demanding for the woman herself. He would be glad when this was all over because he was going to do whatever he could to bind her to him. Earlier today, when she commented about being taken, he wanted to tell her she most definitely was taken but it wasn't the time nor the place to have that discussion. They would soon because he had made up his mind. She will be his, no doubts about it.
Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Protecting Joselyn (Kindle Worlds) Page 9