Page 19 of Hidden With You

“It’s just ... Well, I mean they’re using my book.”

“Your book?” He glanced sideways as Ryan re-entered the condo.

“What about your book?” Ryan asked. “And which one?”

“Intercontinental. The first Martin King book. The one they’re making into a movie,” she added for Jasper’s benefit. “Hang on.”

A huge bookcase dominated the southernmost wall, and she headed that way, then pulled down a thick hardback book. She flipped through it, marked a place with the dust jacket, then passed it to Ryan, who immediately opened and skimmed the text. “See?”

Jasper watched as Ryan finished reading, then flipped forward before looking up at Zelda. Jasper frowned, then crossed to Ryan and took the book, reading the marked page himself.

It was a threat using the exact language: You. Dead. Soon.

“Check the chapter heading. The graphic, I mean.”

He did. It was a target with the silhouette of a woman dead center.

Jasper and Ryan exchanged glances. “This does make it seem like someone is playing with you,” Jasper said. “Very specifically, too. But you sound almost cavalier about the whole thing.”

She shook her head. “Oh, I’m not. I’m serious about wanting confirmation. I mean I could be wrong and I’m really not keen on dying. But if they really are using the book as a model, then the threat is only meant to scare me.”

“Because that’s what happened in the book,” Jasper said, understanding dawning.

“Exactly. It wasn’t a serious death threat at all. The victim gets the threat, but Martin learns that the guy who left it never intended to kill her.”

She turned her attention from him to Ryan. “Don’t you think that someone who really meant to hurt me would’ve had more balls? I mean, surely they know the plot, right? So, it’s probably just some freak who’s obsessed with me. But I don’t think they actually want to hurt me. I think they just want to get my attention.”

“Get your attention why?” Jasper asked.

Her brow furrowed. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“It’s a good theory,” Ryan said. “But we’re not taking chances.”

“But—”

Ryan shook head. “No. We’re not eliminating the possibility of a threat because of the way you plotted your book. You called because you’re worried. Do you think Jamie would forgive me if I let you dismiss us out of hand?”

She sighed, then went to sit in an overstuffed armchair, her legs curled up underneath her. “I probably should have just let it slide. It’s going to turn out to be nothing, and you’re going to end up wasting time on me, diverting resources from clients with legit issues.”

“No,” Jasper said firmly. “You did the right thing. However this turns out, it’s a legit issue. You’re frustrated and scared. You want to believe this was just a prank, but more than that, you want to know the truth. You want answers even while you want to push it all away.”

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to call them back. He knew too much about what she must be feeling. The need for answers when all you want to do is forget and walk away.

She met his eyes, and he saw understanding there. More than that, he felt that same zing of connection he’d felt last night at the party.

She didn’t look away. And, damn him, neither did he.

After a moment, she licked her lips, then turned with visible effort to face Ryan. “So where does that leave me? Should I wear Kevlar? Hire someone to taste my food for poison? And honestly, if someone shoots me, it’s only going to help the film. Hell of a publicity coup for Jamie and the studio. Hey, maybe she’s our bad guy.”

Ryan nodded slowly. “Actually, that’s a solid thread to tug.”

“Jamie?” Incredulity dripped from her voice.

“No,” Jasper cut in, understanding what Ryan was thinking. “Not his wife. But this might be a publicity stunt cooked up by the producer.”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh, please. You should be the one writing thrillers, not me. Your plotting skills are exceptional. But also way too over the top.”

“Matthew Holt’s company is producing, right?” Ryan asked. “We need to talk to him.”