Page 35 of A Home for Harmony (Blossoms #16)

BASED ON HIS OPINION

“ I ’m not mad,” he said. “I’m pissed. Livid. Furious.”

“Ouch.”

“Don’t make light of this,” he said. “I’m not your boyfriend right now. And I want you to start at the beginning.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Are you breaking up with me over this?”

“No,” he snapped. “I want you to talk to me like law enforcement. Give me all the facts.”

“Is this a criminal thing now?” A tear slid down her face, soft and silent. He saw her now—not just the woman she’d become with him, but the one who had once been terrified when he walked up to her broken-down car. And it hit him—he’d lost sight of that fear, that vulnerability.

“I’m not sure until I know what is going on. Start talking.”

“I don’t know where to start,” she said.

“When did it start?” He was trying not to lose his patience, but it was damn hard.

He hoped to hell she didn’t tell him before she moved here, but something told him he would not get that wish.

She took a deep breath. “I really don’t know the exact date. It might be about two years. Less.”

He closed his eyes and dropped his head back. “You’re joking, right?” He was glancing at the ceiling and then fixed her with a stare as he lifted his head.

“No,” she said. “I’m probably making more out of it. I don’t know.”

“Which is why you’re going to tell me all about it. Let me be the judge.”

She breathed in and out a few times. “What a shitty way to spend my birthday.”

She never swore and that told him how worked up she was over this.

“Harmony, I’m trying not to lose my shit here.”

“You’re doing an awful job of it,” she said, wiping her nose as another tear fell. “I don’t feel comfortable talking about this here. It’s hard for me to answer anything without my laptop to look things up.”

“We’ll get to that later.” He took a deep breath to compose himself better. “Give me an overview.”

He pulled his phone out and hit record, her eyes growing big. “Why are you doing that?”

“Something to reference back. You might say something now and forget it later. Please,” he said gentler. “Summarize it for me and why you think this is happening.”

She squared her shoulders, grabbed a tissue from a box he had on the shelf behind her, blew her nose, then said, “I get a lot of messages and emails from people daily. I glance at them and reply or react to some. Like or hearts or whatever. It helps to keep people engaged, but I can’t get to everything or I’d get nothing done.

I don’t try to be selective of who I reply to either, spreading my attention around. ”

“I got that,” he said.

“I noticed I was getting messages that seemed too clingy. Or that they were coming from the same username, but it took me a while to piece it together. They were on all my social media accounts. Everything. The same messages as if they wanted me to know and acknowledge them. Or were trying to get my attention to engage.”

“I can see where that might annoy you,” he said. “But it could be someone that wanted attention, as you said. You have a lot of followers and they might have wanted to stand out.”

“That is what I thought,” she said. “But then it was more like how pretty I looked in a certain color. Or maybe my eyes sparkled when I talked about the weather that day.”

“Deeper more personal messages.”

“Yes. I found them creepy and ignored them. The more I ignored them, the more I saw. Or maybe I was looking now. I blocked them so I didn’t have to see them anymore.

I was positive it was the same person on all the platforms even though the usernames didn’t match up.

It was a similar tone and message. Then they all ended with the same three emojis. A smile, a hug and a heart.”

He was trying damn hard not to show any reaction to this.

“You stopped engaging completely?” he asked.

“I did, not that I thought I responded to them in the past, but I might have. Once they were blocked and out of sight, I moved on. I thought it was over with and they got the hint. But months later, I’d get another one with the same signature.

That is what I was calling it. It’s like they weren’t trying to hide the fact of who they were, even though I had no idea who it was. ”

“And you blocked them every time?”

“I did. Erica passed out at work and was having all these tests. We were stressed and when she decided to move here and start her own business, I told her I wanted to do it too. She was worried about leaving me alone.”

“Were you worried about it?”

“I was,” she said, shrugging. “I knew I couldn’t afford the place we had and would have to find another.

I hadn’t lived alone before and might have been a little apprehensive of it.

But more importantly, there were comments in those messages about seeing me places in New York City. I knew it was time to leave.”

“Do you know if this person ever had contact with you in person?” he asked. “Any comments for you to believe that or just tying messages back to pictures?”

She looked to be trying to think back. “I don’t know. I don’t think so and don’t want to think it happened and I was so unaware.”

“Fast forward to your move over a year ago here,” he said. “How frequent has the contact been?”

“Not much. Really,” she said. “I thought for sure they’d gotten the hint.

I want to say about four or five months went by and there was nothing or it could be I hadn’t noticed anything and they were lost with all the other comments.

I was so happy it was over with. But then around the first of November, I got an email from an address I didn’t know.

No name, or its generic names. This time they wanted to know where I’ve been.

They hadn’t seen me around much and wanted to know if I moved.

That they missed me. Something like that.

An email I would pay more attention to than a comment on social media. ”

Getting a little bolder.

“Do you have all these emails and messages?”

“I’m sure I can get them,” she said. “I didn’t delete them, though I wanted to. I just blocked them. There has to be a way to go in and find them, right?”

“There is,” he said. “We can have someone do that here if you want.”

“No. I don’t want anyone to know. I don’t want to worry my family.”

He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Harmony. This isn’t up for debate if I think there is a serious threat.”

He wouldn’t argue with her here, but he was getting his way.

“You’re not sure there is one either, are you?”

“Keep talking. Did anyone threaten you?”

“No,” she said. “They are just creepy. It’s in my mind and my gut. I know it. I know it’s a risk I take being so present online, but the fact this person is relentless and keeps coming back really bothers me.”

“As it should,” he said. “So now they think you’ve moved. Anything else?”

“Nothing really other than the same messages popping up now and again. On Valentine’s Day I got another message and the first thing that came to my mind was that it was some teen crush or something.”

“What did it say?” he asked. “Can you find it since it’s not that long ago?”

“It was something about wishing me Happy Valentine’s Day. The night and day of love. They were thinking of me and how sweet and honest I am and they can’t wait to see more of me.”

“See you in person or online?” he asked.

“I assumed online. But I’m not on as much,” she said. “I’ve been slowly stepping back and focusing on my other business. I’m still posting videos, but they are words of wisdom or inspiration. I don’t post a lot of pictures of myself.”

“You did when you were baking cookies,” he said.

Her shoulders dropped. “Scarlet told you that?”

“Yes,” he said. “My daughter talks to me. She said she saw the video of you making them and sent you a text.”

“I’ve asked her not to post on my account and she honored that. She does like or heart things now and again, but she texted me personally to ask if some of those cookies were for her. I found it sweet.”

“I know,” he said. “She told me they were for me.”

“I really love your daughter,” she said. “I wouldn’t do anything to put her in harm’s way and I don’t want people to find out your last name and then search for you or her or anything like that.”

“I appreciate it,” he said. “But I’m not sure how much you can control those things right now.”

“My point is, I’m not putting a lot of personal things out there about me now. I’m focusing on my instructional videos and more that I can do for that.”

Micah nodded. “Scarlet has mentioned you’re not as active. She was annoyed, thinking it was my fault and I was telling you what to do.”

He hoped that wasn’t the case. That Harmony knew he didn’t think highly of this part of her career and she was trying to make him happy.

She shook her head. “No. It’s not that. I was cutting back before you for a lot of reasons.”

“This person, for one?” he asked.

He didn’t want her to be so afraid that she had to stop what she loved to do.

He didn’t want her to give up a passion because he didn’t understand it.

At least she said she started it before he came into her life because he wasn’t sure he could carry the burden on his shoulders that she was making those changes based on his opinion.

He’d had this happen once in his life already and didn’t want to lose another relationship over it.

“Yes,” she said. “But not completely. I’ve said before I never planned on my career being an influencer. I make good money and put a lot of it away. I want to focus on a sustainable business. Maybe I want my mother off my back and to be proud of the choices I make.”

Shit. Didn’t it always come back to their parents?

“Do what makes you happy, Harmony,” he said.

“I know. I’m sorry. We are getting off track.”

They were and he remembered he was still recording this. It was for his purposes now, but he might need to let other people hear it at some point. “Go on. Since Valentine’s Day have you had any other messages?”

“Not that I saw,” she said. “But then the flowers came today and there is no name or signature on them. The email address doesn’t seem close to the others. I think they just make them up to set up a new account all the time.”

“The flowers didn’t have a threatening message to them,” he said. “You’re right, there isn’t anything illegal going on. Not even from the messages you are saying you’re getting. It’s an annoyance or a ploy for attention, but no threat.”

But it was scaring her and he hated that. There was nothing unlawful going on other than someone being a pest.

“I know,” she said. “I’m trying not to be a baby and that is why I haven’t said anything to anyone.”

“No one knows?” he asked.

“My friend Lizzie. The one who I spent New Year’s Eve with. She knew I was getting them at Media Creator. I asked if she had any issues like that. If it was something with other employees or just me.”

“What did she say?”

“That she’d gotten messages like that in the past and they normally moved on to someone else. She’d actually told me to post pictures of me with people I went on dates with, thinking that might discourage the person.”

“Did you?” he asked. He wouldn’t have recommended that. It could set someone off easier.

“No,” she said. “I told you I went on a date months ago with a guy and he was posting pictures of us and tagging me.”

“What’s his name?” he asked. “I’m going to look into him.”

“Skyler Sheffield,” she said. She pulled her phone out. “I can show you pictures of him.”

“Do you think this could be him?” He was typing the name into his computer to see if he could find any record. He turned his laptop around. “Is this him?”

“Yes,” she said. “And no, I don’t think it’s him sending these messages.”

He scanned what came up. Nothing. Not even a driving violation.

“There isn’t anything on him. Does he reach out directly anymore?”

“Once in a while,” she said. “I don’t think it’s him. I didn’t know him before this all started. And once we went on that date, he would have stopped. He’s not the type to leave silly emojis like that.”

“I don’t think that men do,” he said. “Unless they aren’t that mature or they are trying to be someone they aren’t.”

“Do you think this is a teenager?” she asked, frowning.

“I don’t think or know anything until I can see all the messages,” he said.

He wasn’t convinced that she wasn’t in danger, but when looking at it with an open mind as law enforcement and not her boyfriend, there was no threat.

There was nothing he could do in his job without more evidence.

Sometimes he hated the rules and the laws, but they were there for a reason.

“I can bring my laptop over tonight and show you,” she said. “If you want me to come over still. Maybe you don’t want me around Scarlet and I understand.”

She sniffled. He stood up. “Come here. I think we can’t change your pattern and I’m not walking away from you. I’m insulted you’d think I would.”

Harmony went into his arms for a hug. “I’m sorry. I know I’m making more out of this.”

“No,” he said. “You’re not. I tell my daughter and every other person, man or woman, to go with their gut. That is what you’re doing and have been doing. Something is telling you this isn’t right or normal. We’ll figure it out and we’ll take more precautions.”

“I’m not sure what more I can do,” she said.

Neither was he.