Page 40 of Beckett (Warrior Security #2)

“This is incredible,” Audra said after her first bite.

Travis almost smiled. “Recipe took six attempts to perfect. The butter-to-flour ratio in the crust was particularly challenging.”

We ate while Travis talked, explaining what he’d found over the past days of digging into Audra’s situation. He’d already told me some of it, but hearing it again, watching Audra’s face as she learned how thoroughly she’d been hunted—it made my jaw clench.

“Your instincts were right about how the stalker was finding you. Credit card usage first,” Travis said, pulling up data on a tablet.

“Every time you used one, he could track it. When you switched to cash, he adapted. Electronic payments from employers, motel registrations requiring ID—all breadcrumbs.”

“I tried to be careful,” Audra said.

“You were. When those dried up, it looks like he switched to image searches.” Travis showed her something on the screen that made her pale. “Any photo of you anywhere online, even in the background of someone else’s picture. The technology exists to find those matches in seconds.”

“So he could search for my face and find me anywhere someone posted a photo?”

“If you were visible in it, yes. A tourist’s Instagram from a coffee shop, a business’s social media post, security footage that gets uploaded to community watch sites.” Travis set the tablet down. “The dedication required is significant. This isn’t casual stalking.”

Audra pushed her empty plate away, her hand trembling slightly. “So anywhere I went, if someone took a picture…”

“He could find you within hours.” Travis stood, gathering our plates with precise movements, setting them in the sink at exact right angles. “Come on. There’s something else you need to see.”

Back in the control room, Travis pulled up files, his fingers flying across keyboards. Multiple windows opened across the main monitor. “This is the garage footage from your first attack,” he said. “What the police saw versus what actually happened.”

The first video showed Audra walking through a parking garage, getting in her car, driving away. Nothing unusual. The second made my blood pressure spike.

Even without sound, the violence was clear. Audra walking, checking behind her, speeding up. The figure in the black hoodie coming from nowhere, slamming her to the ground. Her cheek bleeding as he hauled her up by her hair, mouth moving with words we couldn’t hear.

“Eye for an eye,” Audra filled in, voice flat. “That’s what he said.”

“The editing was sophisticated,” Travis said. “Professional level. I’m not surprised the police missed it. Without knowing to look for artifacts in the encoding, I’d have missed it too.”

“The guy at the grocery store wore a black hoodie too,” I said, remembering the security footage Lachlan had shown us.

Travis nodded. “Standard stalker behavior. Nondescript clothing, face obscured. He knows what he’s doing.”

“At least there’s proof now,” Audra said quietly. Her voice caught, and she had to stop, pressing her fingers against her mouth. When she spoke again, the words came out broken. “I know you all believed me, but having actual evidence that I’m not…”

She trailed off, wrapping her arms around herself like she was trying to hold something in. Or maybe hold herself together.

“That you’re not what?” I asked gently, though I already knew.

“Crazy.” The word came out as barely a whisper.

“Paranoid. Making it all up for attention, like the Seattle police thought. Like everyone eventually thinks when you tell them someone’s following you, but there’s never any proof.

” Her laugh was bitter, sharp enough to draw blood.

“Do you know how many times I’ve questioned my own sanity?

Wondered if maybe they were all right, maybe I was having some kind of breakdown after Todd died? ”

“Audra—”

“No, I need to say this.” She turned to face the monitor again, staring at the frozen image of herself being attacked.

“Seeing this… It’s horrible, but it’s also…

” She searched for words. “It’s validation.

Proof that I haven’t lost my mind. That all those nights lying awake, terrified of shadows, jumping at every sound—it was real. He was real.”

“You were never making it up,” I said firmly. “Not for a second. Anyone who thought that was wrong.”

She touched the back of her neck. “The burn helped, in a weird way. When I’d start to doubt myself, wonder if maybe I was paranoid, going crazy—the scar was proof. He did that. Maybe I could be making some stuff up in my mind, but I knew this was real.”

“And definitely personal,” Travis said, returning to his data.

“I’ve gone through everything—your social media, deleted posts, your public relations business work before this started.

You’re remarkably non-offensive online. Professional, friendly, nothing that should trigger this level of obsession. ”

“So I did something without knowing it?”

“Or you did nothing and he’s simply fixated.” Travis’s expression was matter-of-fact. “Mental illness doesn’t always follow logic. You could have cut him off in traffic. Looked like someone who hurt him. Smiled at him wrong. Or smiled at him right. The trigger could be anything or nothing.”

The dryer buzzed from down the hall, sharp and sudden. We all jumped.

“Your clothes,” Travis said unnecessarily.

I retrieved them, still warm and slightly damp at the seams but wearable.

“Just keep what you have on. I’ll never wear them. And you can take one of my cars.” He opened a drawer, pulled out a key fob from a collection of at least a dozen. “It’s in the garage.”

“You have cars?” Audra asked.

“Vehicles are necessary for theoretical emergency evacuation.” Travis handed me the keys. “I keep them around just in case.”

Travis collected escape routes he’d never use, backup plans for catastrophes that existed mainly in his mind. Though, after tonight, his paranoia felt a lot more like reasonable caution.

“I’ll keep digging,” he said, already focusing back on all the data compiling. “The pattern analysis is running. If he’s made any digital footprint in the last seventy-two hours, I’ll find it.”

“Thanks, Travis.” I meant it. “For everything. The shower, the food?—”

“Stop.” He cut me off, but his voice held warmth beneath the discomfort.

“You know I don’t do well with…this.” He gestured vaguely at the space between us.

“Just—I’m glad you’re both okay. When I saw you on the perimeter cameras looking like that…

” He shook his head, glancing in the direction of his monitors.

“Next time, try not to almost die getting here.”

“We’ll do our best,” I said dryly.

Audra stepped forward, and for a moment, I thought she might hug him. Travis must have thought the same because he took a quick step back.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

Travis nodded once. “Get out of here. I have work to do.”

We left him there, surrounded by his screens and data streams, hunting a ghost through digital shadows. The garage held six vehicles, each spotless. I clicked the key fob, and a Subaru SUV lit up. We got inside, and it started immediately, purring like it had just rolled off the lot.

As we pulled away from Travis’s house, I caught a glimpse of it in the rearview mirror—weathered siding and peeling paint, deliberately unremarkable.

But now I’d seen Audra’s face on those monitors, seen the proof of her nightmare in pixels and code.

Travis was back there, hunting through digital shadows with the same intensity he brought to protecting his own walls.

The Subaru’s headlights cut through the darkness ahead. Beside me, Audra sat wrapped in Travis’s too-large clothes, alive and warm and real. We’d survived the river. We’d survived the attempt on our lives.

But whoever had tried to kill us tonight was still out there.