Stalking her Dreams (A Coverton Mills Romance Book 1)

by Agnes Alexander

  She checked into a beautifully appointed room. The porcelain tub was so inviting Heather decided to shower and change into one of the sundresses she’d packed. She wanted to feel fresh when she went to the terrace for dinner. Though she knew she’d be eating alone, she remembered the words her late mother often said when they left the house: “Always look your best when you go out in public, dear. You never know who you might run in to.”

  •♥ •

  It was almost dark when Rachelle Albright awoke. Sprawled on the sofa, she still wore the clothes she’d worn the day before.

  “Oh, my head feels like it’s going to fly off.” She grabbed it with both hands and sat up. The room began to spin and she couldn’t focus.

  “I wonder what set me off this time,” She mumbled, then she saw the letter and the returned manuscript on the beat-up coffee table and cursed. “It was that witch, Heather Masterson.” She reached out with her right leg and kicked the table across the room.

  The sudden movement didn’t only make her head spin again, it made it throb harder. She put her hand on her forehead. “I feel like I’m going to die.”

  It was as if a voice spoke to her. “No, Rachelle, you’re not going to die. Heather Masterson is.”

  CHAPTER 3

  At eight-thirty on Friday morning Alex came into the kitchen. “Good morning, Irma.” He dropped to one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

  “Morning, Mr. Alex. I have the makings of an omelet. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds good.”

  She handed him a cup of coffee and followed it with a glass of orange juice. “You’re starting a little later than usual this morning.”

  “Brenda brought a book up here for me to read last night. I got interested in it and read the whole darn thing before I went to bed. Must’ve been at least two o’clock.”

  Irma poured the omelet in the pan as the phone rang.

  “I’ll get it.” Alex picked up the cordless phone on the kitchen wall.

  “Hi, Alex. It’s Kate,” a hesitant voice said.

  “Hello, Kate.”

  “I hope I’m not calling too early, but I thought I’d call and thank you again for dinner on Wednesday.”

  “You’re welcome. I always like to eat at Buck’s.”

  She cleared her throat then said in a rush, “Sissy and Ned are going out tonight, and I thought if you weren’t busy I’d make a pot of chili and we can watch a movie or something.”

  Alex couldn’t help wishing he’d never taken Kate out. He thought this might happen. Every time he was nice to a woman, she ended up trying to set up dates with him. He didn’t like pushy women. His mind raced, trying to figure a way to turn her down.

  Finally, he said, “It sounds good, Kate, but Luke and Brenda asked me to go to dinner with them tonight. I’ve already told them I would.” It was almost the truth. Brenda did tell him to let them know after he read the book. Going to see some writer he’d never see again would certainly be better than getting hooked up with some local woman looking for a man.

  “I see.” She sounded disappointed. When Alex didn’t say anything, she added, “Maybe another time, then?”

  “Maybe so.”

  They said quick good-byes and Alex turned back as Irma put the omelet on his plate. “Looks good,” he mumbled.

  “Thank you.”

  “I guess you heard I’m going to Asheville with the kids tonight.” He looked at her and smiled. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”

  “I would like to go over to Hendersonville and visit my sister.” She poured him more coffee. “I’ll leave right after lunch since you won’t be here for dinner.”

  “Forget about lunch. I’m sure there are plenty of sandwich makings in the refrigerator. If I’m going to have a heavy dinner, a sandwich is enough.”

  “I appreciate that, Mr. Alex. It would be nice to go early.”

  Alex finished his breakfast and headed out the door. He knew the first thing he had to do this morning was let Luke and Brenda know he was going to horn in on their date after all.

  •♥ •

  After she cleaned the kitchen, Irma Tomlin went to her quarters—a spacious one-bedroom apartment with a small kitchen and large living room built over the four-car garage. She pulled a suitcase from under her queen-sized bed and opened it. As she packed, she couldn’t help wondering who this Kate was who called Alex.

  She knew they’d gone out the night he told her not to cook supper. Irma didn’t want to admit she was a bit jealous.

  Alex Hargrove was one of the most eligible and desirable men in her age bracket. She wasn’t the only single woman over fifty who thought so, either. Minnie Cox was blatant about the fact she wanted him. She showed up almost weekly with a cake or a casserole. Minnie also invited him to different functions on a regular basis. So far, she was sure he hadn’t accepted any of Minnie’s invitations, and if Irma had anything to do with it, he never would. She sure wasn’t the right woman for him.

  Before Anna Hargrove died, Irma promised her she’d look after Alex and make sure his next wife was suitable. Irma intended to keep her promise.

  Nothing would have pleased Irma more than for Alex to turn to her after his wife’s death, but it hadn’t happened. Oh, he liked her. He respected her and he was good to her, but she was an employee. She’d accepted the fact that was all she’d ever be, but she made up her mind if she couldn’t have him, she’d see to it the woman who did get him was worthy.

  Irma snapped her suitcase shut and went out the door to the steps leading down into the garage. She tossed the bag in the back of her compact car, opened the garage and backed out of the parking space she’d been assigned.

  “Yes, Mr. Alex,” she said aloud as she pushed the button to close the garage. “I’ll have to check this Kate out when I get back.” She then drove out the long winding drive and headed her car toward Hendersonville.

  •♥ •

  Rachelle thought they would fire her when she came to work, but Dr. Tilley was too busy. She went straight to her desk and began cataloguing the items he wanted done. Maybe if she could lay off the booze for a couple of weeks nobody would say anything.

  She was wrong. At lunch, Dr. Tilley called her into the office and told her if she missed another day because she drank herself into a stupor, she need not bother coming back. Rachelle thought he might be serious this time. He didn’t look as if he was kidding—even if they were first cousins.

  “Excuse me doctor.” A nurse popped her head into his office. “Mr. Masterson and his son are here for the tests.”

  “Thanks.” He stood. “Now remember what I said, Rachelle. I don’t care if our mothers were sisters, I can’t put up with this behavior any longer.”

  Rachelle nodded and watched him leave the office, but her mind wasn’t on what he said. She’d heard the name Masterson. Could it be? I know she has a son in the area.

  She couldn’t wait. Somehow, she’d manage to see the file after the Masterson man and his son left. She might even be called to administer some of the tests to see if the little boy had a learning disability or if he was extra smart. If so, this might be the way to get to Heather. None of the mail she’d sent had gotten a response. The woman was too selfish to even acknowledge a letter from a fan. Never mind that the fan only wanted to know her because of Alex Hargrove. Oh, how she wished she had a drink to make her think more clearly.

  CHAPTER 4

  When Heather walked into the meeting room at six-thirty, she was surprised to see the number of chairs set up for her talk.

  “Ms. Masterson.” A middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair held out her hand. “I hope you brought lots of books. We’re expecting a big crowd and I know we’ll sell a lot.”

  Heather took her hand. “I have another case in the car,” she mumbled, doubtful they would be needed.

  “Good. I’m Polly Gardner. We’ve been looking forward to this event.”

  “So have I.” Heather noticed Polly was
wearing a cocktail dress, and was glad she’d put on the black slacks and the silk turquoise blouse with a v-neck line and three-quarter length sleeves. Black high heel sandals and crystal jewelry completed her outfit.

  “We have some snacks set up in the waiting area for you to relax before the guests arrive. I’ll have someone get the extra books from your car. I’m sure we’ll need them.”

  Heather didn’t think so, but who was she to argue with the event organizer? She fished out her keys and gave them to Polly.

  “Thanks, I’ll get them back to you. The doors will open at seven and you’ll come out at seven-thirty.”

  The wait turned out to be fun as different members of Polly’s committee came by to introduce themselves and chat.

  •♥ •

  “Dad, I’m glad you came,” Luke said as they walked out of Providence 620.

  “Your mother and I enjoyed eating here when we were in Asheville.” Alex climbed into the back seat of Luke’s SUV.

  “I want you to be happy and enjoy going out with someone again, Dad.”

  “I’m happy enough. I wish you kids would stop trying to find a woman for me.”

  “I’m only protecting myself. I don’t want Minnie Cox for a stepmom.”

  “No danger of that.”

  They all laughed because they knew how she’d set her heart on winning Alex’s hand.

  It was a short ride to the hall, and when they got inside there were several people already seated. They found three spots together in the sixth row back.

  As they settled themselves, Brenda asked, “Did you read any of the book I brought you?”

  Alex nodded. “I read it all.”

  “What did you think?”

  “I’m not much of a fiction reader, but she did a good job portraying Alex Hargrove. I’m glad to know I’m handsome and virile and in my thirties once again.”

  “Don’t worry, father-in-law, you’ve still got it.” She patted his hand. “You have as many women chasing you as the fictional Alex does.”

  “Yeah, Dad.” Luke looked around his wife who was sitting between them. “I read one of the books, too. I think the writer was actually describing me, but got confused and used the name Alex instead of Luke.”

  Brenda playfully bopped his arm.

  The room filled quickly and Alex glanced at his watch. It was seven-thirty-five, but before he could say it was time to get started the lights began to dim and four women walked out on the stage. Alex hoped the one in the black pants was the writer. She was by far the prettiest of the bunch.

  •♥ •

  When Polly Gardner and two other women from the committee came to get her, Heather stood and picked up the tote which held her notes.

  Polly said, “I’m sorry we’re running a few minutes late, but we had to shuffle some chairs.”

  “Not a problem.” Probably had to ask everyone to move forward so the few here wouldn’t reveal how thin the crowd was.

  They stepped onto the stage and Heather couldn’t believe her eyes. The room was full. She was pleased, but, as always, couldn’t help feeling a little nervous.

  Polly moved to the podium and introduced her two assistants then launched into a lengthy introduction of the guest of honor. Heather didn’t like long introductions, but there was nothing she could do except sit there and listen until Polly finally said, “And here she is, our guest of honor, Heather Masterson.”

  Heather came forward and said the usual things. She was delighted to be here and to see such a wonderful turn out. “In fact,” she added. “When I arrived, the place was empty. I thought I’d be talking to Polly and her committee, and almost suggested we have the meeting in the waiting area. Now, I’m glad I didn’t.”

  There was applause.

  “I like to get to know the people who write the books I read, so let me tell you a little about myself.” She smiled at the audience. “Though I think the young lady is very talented, as you can guess by looking at me, I’m probably not in the Hannah Montana fan club.” Laughter. “And if we have to stick with states as names, put down Alabama as one of my favorite singing groups. I remember hearing those guys sing when they were starting out at the Bowery in Myrtle Beach. Of course, as most of you know, they retired a few years ago.” Heather smiled again. “Now that’s as close as you’re going to get to finding out my age.”

  After the audience became quiet, Heather went on. “I live in Wynburg, a nice little town not far from Winston-Salem. I have a son, Tim, and a wonderful daughter-in-law, Juanita, and they’ve given me a precious little grandson.” She paused. “I know every grandparent says their grandchildren are wonderful, but let me assure you, my Ben really is the best. He calls me Grammy and the little girl they’re expecting in a couple of months will probably call me Grammy, too. Though I’ve asked, they haven’t told me what they’re going to name her.” A smattering of laughter again filled the room.

  Heather knew she had a good audience and she launched into her books and how she’d sat on the porch of one of the local hotels when the first Alex Hargrove book fell into her mind, almost in its entirety. She talked for about twenty minutes and ended with, “I think I’ll stop here and let you ask questions. Don’t be shy. I’m willing for you to ask anything. I’m a fiction writer and if I don’t want to tell you the truth, I’ll make something up.”

  After only a short pause a woman near the front asked, “Ms. Masterson, do you base your characters on real people?”

  “I base some of them on real people. Some are a combination of people I know or have met and there are a few in my books who come completely from my imagination. They seem to drop into my mind with all their characteristics in place.” Heather smiled at the woman and pointed to an older woman with her hand up.

  “Ms. Masterson, you write about such wonderful men. Are they real?”

  Heather laughed. “Since there are some men in the audience, how can I put this nicely?” She pursed her lips. “Let’s say, I doubt there are many perfect men out there. But why not dream? It’s easy to create a perfect guy on paper. You can make him do and say what you wish a real man would do or say, and there’s no way he can argue with you from the printed page.” She smiled. “It’s too bad we can’t do that with them in real life, isn’t it girls?”

  The audience laughed and she heard several women agree audibly.

  Another woman asked, “Heather, are any of the men in your books based on your husband?”

  “Oh, me.” Heather held up her hand and began counting on her fingers. “There’s the bank robber, the murderer, the grouchy old lawyer…shall I go on?”

  Through the laughter someone shouted, “Seriously, Ms. Masterson, what does your husband think of your writing?”

  “Well, since I’ve only had one husband and he’s been married to another woman for almost twelve years, I doubt he thinks about my writing at all.”

  Someone shouted, “You’re lucky.”

  Heather didn’t reply. She turned to a woman who asked, “What advice would you give a writer starting out?”

  After that, the remarks fell into the more routine writing questions and lasted for another twenty minutes before Polly intervened and said, “Folks, Heather will be signing books in the lobby. I’m sure she’ll be glad to have a short chat with you as you come by her table. Let’s thank her for coming.” She began to applaud.

  Heather leaned toward the microphone. “Thank you so much for having me. It’s been a great time because you’ve been a wonderful audience.” She waved at the people and followed Polly down the steps.

  •♥ •

  Rachelle could hardly believe her good fortune. She celebrated with a second glass of whisky as she looked at the piece of paper in her hand. “This worked like a charm.”

  It started when Tim Masterson and his son left the office earlier. The other woman in the computer section was swamped and Rachelle offered to input some of the chart information and her coworker handed Rachelle a stack of files without noticing
one was marked confidential. Everyone knew the files marked this way were to be input by the office manager.

  Normally Rachelle would’ve passed the file to her, but this time she couldn’t make herself do it. The name on the top was Benjamin Masterson.

  She glanced around to see if anyone was watching, then opened the file. On the first page, she saw his father was a school principal, his mother a homemaker, but that wasn’t important.

  Then she came to the emergency contact information and she almost shouted. Grabbing a pencil, she wrote quickly, closed the file and said to the office manager, “I don’t think I should have this.”

  “Oh, Rachelle. Thank you. I could’ve gotten in trouble if I’d let that one be seen.”

  “Don’t worry. Dr. Tilley will never know you gave it to me.” Now at home she looked at the information she’d copied. Emergency contact: Heather Masterson, grandmother, address, home phone and e-mail address.

  How lucky could a girl get!

  CHAPTER 5

  “What did you guys think of her?” Brenda asked as the three of them stood.

  “Interesting lady,” Luke said.

  Alex didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to admit that he’d seen the first woman he found appealing since Anna’s death.

  Brenda wasn’t going to let him remain quiet. “What about you, Alex?”

  “I agree with Luke.”

  “You want one of her books, honey?” Luke asked.

  “Yes. It’d be nice to have an autographed copy.”

  “What about you, Dad?”

  “Sure, I’ll buy one. How many other books have my name in them?”

  When they got to the lobby they found themselves near the back of the line of people getting books signed. “Brenda, why don’t you go sit over there and Dad and I will stand in line to get the books?” Luke pointed to some chairs in the lobby.

  “Thanks, honey. I’m not sure I could hold out as long as it looks like it’s going to take.” She headed to one of the vacant chairs. It took twenty minutes to reach the desk where Heather sat. Alex and Luke didn’t talk much as they moved forward. Alex didn’t want his son to guess he was enjoying looking at the woman behind the desk. He liked the way the low neckline of the turquoise blouse showed a hint of cleavage. There was a twinkle in her indigo blue eyes and she seemed to concentrate only on the person before her.