“I don’t think you should move in with me,” I told Super Agent on the drive back to Scottsdale.

I had a plan. Well, not so much a plan as a hair-brained scheme that just might work. If I could talk Super Agent into going along with it. Big if there.

“I thought we settled last night.”

“We did.” Mostly. “My secret admirer won’t make a move with you there.”

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard my idea.”

“If it involves leaving you alone without protection to possibly get hurt or killed—no.”

“Not alone alone. Just hear me out and then you can decide that you really like my idea and go along with it and then this whole thing will be over.”

“No.”

“Quit being so stubborn.”

His gaze tracked to our joined hands and the marks on my wrist. “Haven’t you been through enough already?”

Oohhh. The quiet torment in his voice was a punch to the gut. Blinking stinging eyes, I gave his hand a squeeze. “Just listen. If you decide that it’s a no-go, then it’s a no-go. And I’ll do it whatever way you want. Okay?”

He stared out over the dash for a moment then slowly nodded his head. This was big doings for Super Agent. In a rush I filled him in on my plan for drawing out my stalker. When I finished, Super Agent gave me a quick appraising glance. Heh. I’d surprised him with my cleverness. Maybe not so much cleverness as my ability to be conniving. His second, worried look confirmed the latter.

“I’ll call and put things in the works when we get to your place.”

Huzzah! He’d gone for it. Although I didn’t know why I was so excited. I was the one who was going to have to do all the work.

~*~

It was all set up just the way I’d laid it out for Super Agent. Although if I’d known what a control freak he’d be about it all, I would’ve tried to come up with an entirely different plan. That man would make some child a very good mother one day. We barely had time as it was to get everything together, let alone check, recheck, double and triple recheck, and check yet again.

Stratford’s Department Store was open and I was at the Estelle Landers counter as scheduled. Everything had begun here. This was where I’d started to miss things and where Shasta had been killed. It only seemed logical that this would be where things would escalate.

Or I could be totally wrong, as it was looking more and more likely the closer it came to when I’d get off work and nothing had happened. If I didn’t count the reporters who pressed their noses to the windows at the front of the store near the counter, trying to get my attention. They’d thinned considerably since the store had reopened, but there were still a few diehards hanging about like vultures picking at the last scraps.

“Sorry,” I told Super Agent through the microphone he’d wired me with. “I clock out in five minutes. I was really hoping the Creepy Creeper would’ve revealed himself by now and we all could’ve gone home and gotten a beer.”

He didn’t respond. Communication had only been hooked up one way, which had been fun for about five minutes and then talking dirty to the thin air had gotten kinda boring. Plus Xavier had overheard me at one point and had thought I’d been talking to him. He wished.

Daryl edged around the counter toward me. He always approached me like I was a caged wild tiger and he was doused in eau de meat.

“I thought I’d let you know that I have an interview set tonight for a possible replacement for Shasta,” he told me, wearing black because it was Friday. “Thought you might want to sit in on it.”

“You’re not going to waste my time again and then hire the worst possible person for the job, are you?”

He shook his head.

“What time is the interview?”

“Six o’clock.” He pointed up. “In the boardroom.”

“I’ll be there.”

Daryl backed away, keeping his eye on me until he bumped into the Shy Kitty counter and had to break eye contact. He scuttled back to his office without a backwards glance.

Lance slid into my line of sight. “Hi there.”

“Hey.”

He leaned against the counter, posing like the guy in the ad for Gent cologne. “So I was thinking. Me. You. A bottle of Chianti, some takeout, and a DVD at my place.”

“That’s first your mistake—thinking. Your second was voicing those thoughts.”

“Come on.” He shifted a little closer and a cloud of Gent cologne crawled up my nose. “It could be fun. Relieve a little stress.” He waggled his eyebrows. “If you know what I mean.”

I didn’t need to hear Super Agent to know that his back teeth were grinding.

“Yeah. No,” I answered. “I’m pretty sure I already have plans to jab my eye out with a hot poker.”

He chuckled. “That’s what I always liked about you—your sense of humor.” His gaze drifted south and his tone turned oily. “But not the only thing. There’s a whole lot about you to like.”

I scrunched up my nose, trying to prevent a sneeze, and pointed to the other side of the cosmetics department. “You can like it from over there with all of your teeth intact.”

“Your mouth says one thing, but your body tells me another.” He moved even closer, crowding my personal space and pissing me off. “So which should I believe?”

“My fist.”

I popped him one. He went down like the stiff, life-sized cardboard cutout of the Gent spokesmodel.

Uh-oh. This wasn’t going to go over well with my probation officer.