Stalker in the Shadows. Camy Tang

director helping me write the business proposal. I’ve hired an accountant to help with the financials.” She unlocked the front door and disabled the house alarm.

       As she wheeled her father inside, he argued, “But no one has actually given money to the project yet except what you’ve put in yourself. There won’t be any harm in dropping the project for now and picking it up again when the police catch this stalker.”

       “There’s no guarantee the police will catch this man,” Monica said. She wheeled him into the library. “When I do start up the project again, I’d have to start all over from the ground up, including drumming up investors. It’s taken me three years to get to this point.”

       “Monica.” Her father gripped her arm, and she stopped to look at him. His faded green eyes were earnest and calm, rather than sparking with temper like they usually were when they argued. “I know this sounds like I’m trying again to get you to drop this project and work as resident nurse at the spa instead. This isn’t about that. You’re in danger, and I don’t want you hurt.”

       It was strange to see him like this, concerned and calm rather than fiery and argumentative. The two of them were too much alike, which was why they’d been arguing about this for the past year.

       And the truth was, she was angry. She had always gotten along well with people, and men in particular, but she never let them control her. She thought back to the bickering with Shaun at the restaurant and how her independent spirit seemed to always clash with his stalwart opinions.

       But this stalker was trying to control her in a darker way than Shaun’s forcefulness or her father’s arguments. In general, she didn’t like anyone telling her what to do, but this wasn’t a situation where she could go her own way and thumb her nose at whoever was trying to dominate her.

       “I know, Dad,” she said. “I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet.”

       The sound of a car in the front driveway sent her to the window, and she saw her sister Rachel and her boyfriend, Edward, climb out of his truck. Last week, Edward, who owned a greenhouse business and often hired day laborers, had brought to Monica an injured boy whose parents hadn’t been able to afford to send him to the Emergency Room. Taking care of him had reminded her of how much this area needed affordable care for children.

       “What are you two doing here?” Monica asked as Edward and Rachel entered the house. Rachel held a beat-up metal pot, and from it came the smell of something scrumptious that filled the house.

       Rachel held the pot out to Monica. “This is from Julio’s mother, as a thanks for patching her boy up last week. Tamales.”

       “I love tamales.” Just the smell was making her mouth water. “Did you want some?”

       Before they could answer, the sound of another car in the driveway made her remember that Mr. O’Neill was supposed to arrive to talk to Dad about his hotel plans. Before they even rang the doorbell, she opened the door with a welcoming smile to Shaun and his father. “Come on in. Dad’s in the library, but I’m going to wheel him into the kitchen so we can enjoy some of these.” She held out the pot of tamales. “Won’t you join us?”

       “I never turn down homemade tamales,” Patrick O’Neill said.

       “I’m afraid we just came to drop them by,” Edward said. “Rachel and I need to get to the greenhouses to check up on the plants for her scar-reduction cream.”

       “Is yours the truck?” Shaun asked. “Our car is behind you on the circular driveway.”

       “I’ll move my car,” Monica said. It was easier for her to move forward on the circular driveway and clear the path for Edward’s truck than force Shaun to maneuver backward around the curve of the driveway. She handed the tamales to Rachel. “Can you put these on the kitchen table and get Dad? He’s in the library.”

       Monica headed out the front door. She nearly tripped over the wooden ramp, which she’d left over the front steps. She nudged it to the side with her foot.

       She slowed as she dug in her jeans pocket for her car keys. She had a hard time grabbing them, and when she did, she was already at the car. She reached for the door handle.

       There was another dead snake dangling down over the driver’s side window.

       Shaun had been about to join his father and Augustus Grant in the kitchen when Monica’s strangled shriek startled him. He raced out the front door.

       She had dropped her car keys as she recoiled backward from her car, her face white. He followed her gaze and saw the snake, seemingly tossed carelessly onto the roof of her car, with the head arranged to rest against the closed driver’s side window.

       He reacted swiftly, racing to her and grabbing her none too gently by the shoulders. He propelled her toward the front door, his arm around her as he hustled her inside. She stumbled over the threshold, but he tightened his hold on her so she wouldn’t fall.

       He shoved her to one side of the door and slammed it shut. He peered out through the long, narrow diamond pane windows on either side of the front door, but couldn’t see anything through the fuzzy glass. “I can’t see anything,” he muttered. “Do you have any other windows with a clear view of your car?”

       Edward and Rachel, both standing at the foot of the stairs, turned toward them with shocked expressions. “What’s going on?”

       Monica sagged against the wall, her breath coming in gasps. She pointed to her right through the open doorway. “Dining room windows. You think he’s out there now?”

       Shaun hurried into the dining room and moved aside the drapes. The large window gave a clear view of the entire front lawn of the house, including the orange tree grove on the other side of the neatly trimmed grass. No movement.

       “Your stalker is outside?” Rachel asked. She and Monica had moved warily into the dining room also, while Edward moved to the other side of the window and peered outside.

       “Creeps like stalkers enjoy watching. He wouldn’t have put that there and not stuck around to see your reaction.” Shaun turned from the window and his eyes caught hers. “Monica, that snake wasn’t there when we arrived a few minutes ago.”

       A violent shiver passed over her entire body. She swallowed, trying to get hold of herself.

       “What’s going on?” Augustus Grant’s voice called from the kitchen. There was another open doorway into the kitchen from the dining room, and Augustus had a clear view of where they stood on either side of the window.

       “Rachel.” Monica motioned to their father, and Rachel hurried to Augustus and Patrick, speaking in a low voice.

       Shaun looked outside again. Her stalker had been only a few feet away. He’d been close enough to be able to place the snake on the car in the short minutes between the time Shaun had entered the house and when she went outside to move the car.

       Shaun scanned the front lawn. There weren’t many places the stalker could hide. There was a small group of trees to one side of the property, but the rest of the front lawn had open, serene landscaping with artfully placed black rocks and a few low shrubs that wouldn’t hide more than a rabbit. On the far end of the lawn was a grove of orange trees. Had he been able to run from the orange grove to the driveway and back in only a few minutes, with no one seeing him from the house?

       Then it occurred to Shaun that maybe the stalker had been crouched behind Monica’s or Edward’s car when Shaun drove up with his father. The man might have been only a few feet away. Shaun might have even heard him breathing if he’d been paying attention.

       If he’d been that close when Shaun drove up, the man would have had time to plant the snake and then get to the orange grove in the few minutes before Monica exited the house to move the car.

       “Do you have binoculars?” he asked.

       Rachel ran to her father’s library and returned with a pair.