"I'll be just fine." Mia withdrew her keys from her purse. "Cameron said I could stay in his guest bedroom."
Gina burst out laughing, and Mia was glad to see glimpses of the old friend she knew and loved. "I'm betting you don't even set foot in that guest bedroom."
"I'll never tell," Mia teased, though she was certain Gina was right. "Hold on. I want to check our mailbox before we leave."
Mia quickly unlocked their box and took out the mail. She handed Gina her bills and correspondences and felt her own stomach drop when she found a larger, padded envelope addressed to her-in the same vein as the two other envelopes she'd received from an anonymous sender.
It appeared her own troubles weren't over yet.
Chapter Fifteen
"THIS came in today's mail," Mia said to Cameron once she'd arrived at his place half an hour later. She paced anxiously near the kitchen table, her stomach already in knots over what they'd find inside. "I thought I'd wait and give you the honor of opening the envelope this time."
Cameron picked up the envelope and checked it out, front and back. "No return address, of course," he said calmly. "And it's bigger and bulkier than the others you've been sent with the pictures inside."
And that's what worried her the most, because she was fairly certain her stalker had a different kind of surprise in store for her. "I don't think I want to know what's inside." Dread tightened her chest.
"We don't have a choice." He glanced back at her, his gaze filled with understanding. "I know this is difficult for you, but maybe there's something in here that will help us figure out who is sending you this stuff."
Just like the untraceable pictures she'd received, Mia had her doubts. Still, there was no avoiding the inevitable, and she wrapped her arms around her middle as if she could protect herself from what was about to come. "Go ahead and open the envelope so we can get this over with."
Cameron hesitated a few seconds, then tore open the seal and pulled out something bright red and silky. He immediately frowned. "What the hell…"
For a moment, as Mia stared at the provocative pair of panties, she wondered if she'd recently ordered any lingerie from a catalog, which would explain the risque underwear dangling from Cameron's fingers. But then she noticed the slashes in the crimson fabric, and worse, the black pen markings on the crotch area where someone had written the word tramp.
Oh God. Shock swept through Mia, weakening her knees and making her stomach pitch with apprehension. She didn't want to believe the conclusion she'd just come to, but there was no denying the connection to those panties.
"Goddammit!" Cameron bit out furiously and tossed the underwear back onto the envelope on the table. He was so caught up in his own anger over this latest attack that he wasn't aware of the change in Mia. "Who in the hell would do something deranged like this?"
Mia was certain Cameron still believed Ray was the culprit, but Mia had her own strong suspicions. "Carrie," she said, still stunned by the realization. Didn't Carrie think she'd figure it out? Or maybe she just didn't care any longer.
Cameron's startled gaze jerked to her, and his brows creased in confusion. "What?"
"It's Carrie," she said again and sat down on the nearby barstool before her shaking legs gave out on her. "I'm certain she sent this package, and maybe even the pictures, too."
"Okay." Cameron's tone was cautious, even a little skeptical. But he didn't discount her claim. "Why would you think that?"
She'd never told him about her odd and somewhat strained lunch with Carrie last week, but she brought it up now. "When I met with Carrie last week, at lunch she made the comment that she hated going places with me, because she felt as though she blended into the woodwork when I was around. And when the waiter paid more attention to me than he did to her, Carrie also made a remark that my breasts were enough to encourage any man to flirt with me."
Cameron leaned against the counter behind him, his expression intent. "It definitely sounds like Carrie is jealous, and even I saw glimpses of that the first night at The Electric Blue, but do you really think she's capable of doing something like this to you? The pictures, your car, and now this?" She waved a hand toward her latest delivery.
"I hate to think she'd be so cruel, but there's more I need to tell you about that day." She gathered her thoughts, remembering, and relayed the events to Cameron. "After lunch we went shopping, and I found a provocative lingerie set I liked and I showed it to Carrie. She wasn't impressed and made the comment that it reminded her of the kind of stuff her mom wore and it made her look like a tramp. Carrie seemed to be having a bad day, so I just wrote off her remark as something that had stemmed directly from the issues she was currently having with her mother and her most recent live-in boyfriend."
"That certainly makes sense," Cameron said.
"But what doesn't make sense is, why me?" Mia couldn't ever remember doing anything to provoke Carrie into turning on her this way.
"Well, just going on what you told me, I'm thinking that because Carrie can't control her mother's behavior with men and the way her mother acts and dresses, maybe she's trying to control yours." As he spoke, he rubbed his thumb absently along his jaw line. "She sees you getting all the attention with men, and it must remind Carrie of her mother in some way. She definitely has emotional issues, and you were an easy target for her."
It amazed Mia how well Cameron could peg people's personalities and motivations. And not for the first time she didn't like what she was hearing about herself within the text of his explanation. It was yet another reminder of how other people perceived her own behavior and actions.
She combed her fingers through her hair and sighed, looking to Cameron for answers. "So what do we do now? Confront her?"
"If we confront her, she's going to deny she did anything. Her involvement is all speculation on our part, and we don't have any solid, irrefutable proof she sent the pictures or this latest package." He sat down on the barstool next to her. "The best thing to do is try and catch her in the act."
"And how do you propose we do that?" Mia asked.
"We start by going back to The Electric Blue. Let her know you'll be there this weekend, like this Saturday. And then we wait and see if she shows up to take more pictures." He placed his large, warm hands on her legs and gave them an encouraging squeeze. "Now that we're certain it's her, I'll keep my eye on her at all times until I see her do something and we can nail her for it."
Spending another evening at The Electric Blue didn't appeal to Mia as it once would have. She'd rather stay at home and work on a few new stained-glass designs, but to end the insanity that Carrie was putting he:: through, she knew it was necessary. Maybe, then, her life would get back to normal. If she even knew what that was anymore.
"Okay," she said in resignation. "We'll do it."
THE following afternoon, on Friday, Cameron was heading home after work when his cell phone rang. He didn't recognize the number on the display, but he answered the call anyway just in case it was a client. "Hello, Sinclair here."
"Hi, Cameron," a familiar female voice replied. "It's Ashley."
It took him an extra moment to realize it was Ashley Wilde-on the line. "Hey, how's it going?" he asked, surprised to hear from her.
"Everything's good," she said, though there was an energized lift to her voice. "You'll never believe what happened today while I was working at the boutique. You know that woman you pointed out ta me last week at the hotel?"
"You mean Trish Shelton?" he asked, his interest piqued.
"That's the one. She was here again today in the early afternoon. I just happened to glance out in the lobby as she was walking in and I recognized her. And this time, I followed her into the elevator to find out where she was heading. You'll never guess what she was at the St. Claire Hotel for."