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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Nightmares assaulted Olivia all night.

Nightmares about being back in that root cellar. Of seeing the man in the Casanova mask. Of being certain she would die in that underground prison.

Even the scent had been strong in her dream—earth, sweat, and roses.

When she awoke, bags hung beneath her eyes. Anyone who saw her would know she’d had trouble sleeping.

She repressed a sigh.

Keeping up appearances was exhausting.

But so was being vulnerable.

Before beginning her morning routine, she reached for her cell phone and called Lyle. She needed to talk to him now more than ever, and he’d told Olivia she could call whenever she needed.

Lyle picked up on the second ring, his voice hoarse as if he’d been sleeping. “Olivia? I wasn’t expecting to hear from you this morning.”

“I know. I’m sorry if I woke you.” Olivia’s voice came out thin, reedy. “But it’s happening again.”

A brief silence. “What’s happening again, exactly?”

“The feeling of being watched. And I’ve received three sets of roses—twelve at first, then ten, then eight. And I got a phone call.” Olivia swallowed hard. “The roses are his signature, Lyle. You know that.”

“Take a deep breath for me.” Lyle’s voice shifted into the calm, measured tone Olivia recognized from their worst sessions. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Olivia obeyed, feeling the oxygen hit her bloodstream.

“Good. Now, let’s think this through logically. Brian Elliot is dead.”

“What if the police were wrong?” Olivia whispered. “Or what if he had a partner?”

“The investigation was thorough,” Lyle reminded her. “But I understand why you’re frightened. Our bodies remember trauma even when we try to forget.”

“So you think I’m imagining things?”

“No,” Lyle said firmly. “I’m saying that someone could be taking advantage of your history. The Admirer case made national news. The details were public. The rose signature was mentioned in every article.”

A chill crawled up Olivia’s spine. “You think someone’s deliberately triggering me.”

“It’s a possibility we need to consider. Have you contacted Special Agent Harris?”

“No. I was afraid he’d think I was being hysterical.”

“Call him after we finish talking. I also want you to document everything. Take photos. Keep a log of unusual occurrences with times and dates.” Lyle paused. “And Olivia? Don’t isolate yourself. That’s exactly what predators want.”

“But what if?—”

“You survived once by keeping your wits about you,” Lyle interrupted gently. “You can do it again. But this time, you’re not alone. You have support. You have tools.”

Yet Olivia knew nothing could prepare her for the horror she might be facing if this was the same guy as before.

“I want you to activate your safety plan,” Lyle continued. “Use your grounding techniques when the anxiety spikes. Pray. Meditate.”

“And if it really is happening again? If someone really is after me?”

“Then we face it head-on.” Lyle’s voice hardened with resolve. “But remember what we’ve talked about. Fear makes the danger feel closer, bigger. Right now, distinguish between what you know and what you fear.”

Olivia closed her eyes. “I know someone called me about the roses. I know there were roses in my room. I fear it’s connected to The Admirer.”

“Good. Keep separating those things. And Olivia?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not the same person you were a year ago. You’re stronger now. Whatever this is, we’ll handle it. Together.”

Olivia stared at her reflection in the mirror across from her bed.

Lyle was right about one thing: She wasn’t the same frightened woman from a year ago. She was damaged—but she was stronger.

Now, she had to keep moving forward.

An occasional setback was to be expected. However, Olivia never would have guessed her next setback would include a repeat of the terror she’d been trying so hard to overcome.

* * *

When Olivia finished her call with Lyle, she left a message for Special Agent Harris to call her back. Then she checked in with Deb. She mostly kept the conversation professional. There was no need to stir up unnecessary drama.

Before they got off the phone Deb’s voice morphed from serious to playful.

“Not to change the subject or be insensitive, but on a lighter note, you and Tyson Stone have some great chemistry together.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Everyone at the office has watched the raw video footage. We have our own little soap opera playing out before our eyes. You guys would be great together. We’re rooting for you.”

Olivia rolled her eyes as she pictured the scene. “Which parts are you talking about anyway?”

“The one where he throws you into the pool, for starters.”

“Chandler and Wes sent that to you?” Olivia would have to talk to them about that later. “I’ll admit Tyson has surprised me. He’s actually really impressive. But there’s nothing going on between us. Tyson has his life, and I have mine.”

“Okay, sure. If you say so . . . I also saw that article that came out about you two. That’s great publicity for your series. The public loves possible romances between celebrities.”

“Well, I’m afraid our ‘possible romance’ will disappoint them.” Tyson was entirely too focused on his career to date, and Olivia had no interest either. She had too much baggage.

Not to mention a possible serial killer coming back to haunt her.

She ended the call, still shaking her head at the strange clash of emotions going on inside her.

Fear of what was happening. Intrigue over Tyson.

Both things left her feeling off-balance.

She had to get a grip and keep her guard up. Leaving herself vulnerable right now would be the worst thing she could do.