Chapter 35

RILEY

Kathleen folded her clothes and placed them in her suitcase. "I don't understand why someone would be stalking Eric."

"Neither do I," I told Mom. "But Eric and Alex think it's best if we leave the cottage." I hadn't told her the whole truth about why we were leaving. She didn't need to know about the warehouse or that the chance of something else happening was extremely high.

"After I go home, how long will you stay with Alex?"

"No more than a few days."

Mom stopped packing and looked at me. "How will you know when it's safe to return to the cottage?"

I'd been wondering the same thing. "When the police arrest the stalker or at least identify him."

Mom pursed her lips, her worry deepening. "That doesn't give me much comfort. Come home with me to Indianapolis. We have to pack your paintings and art supplies, anyway. We could leave them in their boxes and ship them to my house."

"I want to stay in Sunrise Bay," I said firmly.

"Why?"

"I belong here. I love everything about living in a small town."

"Including the person who posted the article on social media?"

I handed her a jacket. "It was Jenny. She didn't know that I wanted to stay out of the spotlight."

Mom frowned. "I've known her for years. She should have asked if it was all right. And what about Eric? He sounds as though he's just as focused on writing his next book as you are on your paintings."

"Have you read his stories?"

Mom picked up a book from beside the bed. "I'm reading the first one now. I can hardly put it down." She added it to her suitcase, then looked around the room. "I think that's everything. Do you need a hand with your art supplies?"

"Alex and I have packed most of what I need. I just need to take my photographs with me."

"Let's do that now." She closed her suitcase and extended the handle.

We left the bag by the door and walked into my studio. Without the canvas on the easel or the paints spread across my worktable, the room looked bare.

"How's Eric?" Mom asked.

I took the pins out of the photos on the board. "He's good at hiding how he's feeling, but he's worried."

"I don't blame him. You hear horror stories about what some stalkers do to their victims."

I bit my bottom lip, hoping what we'd both heard wasn't true. But it scared me, too. "The police know what they're doing."

Mom placed the photos in an envelope. "I hope so."

I picked up a bag of old fabric I used as rags. If staying with Alex didn't work, I had no idea what we'd do next.