“I’m sure the police are doing all that they can,” Shaye said, struggling with the weight of everything that she suspected and that the police didn’t know.

“Damn right they are. And after I meet with the captain tomorrow, they’ll be doing even more.”

Corrine stared at him in dismay. “Dad, please don’t go down there raising hell. The police have been wonderful, and I don’t want special treatment. Other people in New Orleans have had crimes committed against them as well. They’re all important.”

Pierce turned around to look down at Corrine. “Not as important as you are to me.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I promise not to embarrass you, but I’m still paying them a visit. Eleonore, always a pleasure seeing you.” He gave Shaye a hug. “Good luck with that case. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will,” Shaye said. “Thanks.”

Pierce smiled at them and exited the room. As soon as they heard the front door close behind him, Shaye plopped down on the couch next to Corrine and they all relaxed.

“I love him to death,” Corrine said, “but he’s a stubborn and exhausting man.”

“With only one child, who was attacked by a maniac,” Eleonore said, “but I don’t disagree with either sentiment.”

“I take it no one told him I’m not working an insurance case?” Shaye asked.

“Good God, no,” Corrine said. “The three of us would never hear the end of it. And believe me, he’d hold all of us responsible. He’d never believe for a minute that you’re just as stubborn as he is and wouldn’t take good advice from Jesus himself if it was contrary to what you wanted to do.”

“So true,” Eleonore said. “On all counts.”

Shaye snorted. “My grandfather is an amateur nagger compared to the two of you.”

“I take issue with that,” Eleonore said. “Psychiatrists do not nag. We’re licensed to tell you the best way to live your life. You people just refuse to listen.” She rose from the couch. “Since the next shift has arrived, I’m going to take off. I hear a hot bath and leftover lasagna calling my name. Walk me out, Shaye, and we’ll coordinate our schedules for tomorrow.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Corrine griped. “I have a security guard, courtesy of my dad, two policemen in an unmarked car circling the block, and a maid. Besides, this place is wired up better than Fort Knox.”

“Uh-huh,” Eleonore said, and waved Shaye toward the door.

Shaye followed Eleonore downstairs, but instead of heading for the front door, Eleonore walked straight through the entry and headed for the kitchen at the back of the house.

“Is everything all right?” Shaye asked, worried that Corrine wasn’t doing as well as she seemed to be.

Eleonore stopped walking and whipped around to look her straight in the eyes. “You tell me.”

“What…I don’t understand.”

“There’s something you’re not telling us. Your mother may have missed that flash of guilt on your face earlier, but I didn’t.”

Crap. Shaye had tried hard to keep up her pleasant facade, but she should have known Eleonore would catch even the slightest blip. “There is something bothering me, but I’ll only speak about it in a professional capacity.”

Eleonore narrowed her eyes. “Your profession or mine?”

“Yours.”

“Shit.”

“Take it or leave it.”

Eleonore knew exactly what Shaye was up to. If Shaye gave her information patient to psychiatrist, nothing she said could be repeated, not even to Corrine. So the choice was to know what Shaye was hiding but not be able to tell anyone, or not know at all.

“This goes against all my better judgment,” Eleonore said, “but consider us in session. Lay it on me.”

Shaye told Eleonore about the fabric swatch she’d found in Corrine’s purse.

“Damn it!” Eleonore exploded. “You’re telling me the man stalking your client did this to your mother?”

“I think so. But I can’t tell her,” Shaye said. “If she knew, she’d insist I quit the case, and you know I can’t do that. Emma needs my help. When I refused to quit, mother would insist on helping, and that could get us all killed.”

“Like you’re experienced with stalkers? Shaye, this man is terrorizing a woman, and I can only assume his ultimate goal is to kill her. You’re not qualified to deal with that any more than Corrine is.”

“I’m not dealing with it alone. There’s a cop helping me, and besides, I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out who the stalker is. If everything goes right tomorrow, the police will pick him up for questioning. By that time, I think I’ll have enough evidence for them to hold him.”

Shaye deliberately left out the fact that Ron was in the wind and that even if his ex-girlfriend filed a report on him, the police might not be able to find him. Those details would only make Eleonore worry more. If the cops couldn’t find Ron tomorrow, then she’d consider telling Corrine the truth.

“How can you be sure you’ve got the right guy?” Eleonore asked.

Shaye gave Eleonore a rundown of Ron and his military past with David. Eleonore’s expression grew grim.

“You’re talking about sociopaths,” Eleonore said.

“I know. Even if I hadn’t studied them in school, we’ve talked about them enough for me to recognize the signs.”

Eleonore reached out to grab her hand. “Promise me you won’t take any risks. Promise me that you’ll carry that pistol of yours everywhere. And promise me you won’t hesitate to blow that son of a bitch away if there’s even an ice cube’s chance in hell that he can get to you.”

Shaye squeezed her hand. “I promise.”

Chapter Nineteen

Emma clocked out, then filled a cup with water and sank into a chair in the break room. The shift had felt twice as long as normal. She knew it was because of anxiety and exhaustion, but she’d kept putting on a smile, checking blood pressure, making notes, and reminding herself that this was the last time she’d be making rounds for a while. After tonight, she planned on taking some time off to get her head on straight. Her patients deserved the best she was capable of, and even though she had been competent on the job the entire time, she knew her interaction with patients wasn’t up to her personal standards.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the prescription bottle for the sleeping pills she’d been prescribed after David had…gone. She’d taken them two nights in a row and had some of the best sleep ever, but then she’d gotten that being-watched feeling and had become afraid to sleep that soundly. Tonight, though, she was in the safest place possible. The longer she went without sleeping, the weaker her body got. And if things went really wrong, she’d need that body.

She poured one of the pills into her palm and slipped the bottle back into her pocket. Indecision plagued her. Could she risk taking the medication? Could she risk another night of no sleep? Earlier on shift, she’d had to sit down because her vision was starting to blur. If she didn’t rest, would she even be capable of leaving New Orleans tomorrow?

It was that last thought that made her mind up. Before she could change it again, she popped the pill in her mouth and took a swig of water. She was halfway through the rest of the cup when the door opened and Clara came in. She took one glance at Emma and frowned. “Don’t tell me you’re working a double again.”

“No. I just clocked out. I promise.”

“Good.” Clara walked over and gave her a critical look. “Those bags under your eyes are going to have to file for their own zip code if you don’t get some rest.”

“I have a feeling I’ll get some tonight.”

“I talked to Jeremy earlier this evening. He told me about what happened last night. You changed hotels, right? Is the new one better?”

“Not exactly. Actually, I’m going to sleep here tonight. I just…I don’t feel safe anywhere but here.”