Just Past Midnight. Amanda Stevens
and what he’d done. And why he’d come back into her life.
In her dream, Michael was still holding on to her. “I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“You were willing to give your brother a second chance, so I’ve decided to do the same. I’m going home this weekend. I don’t expect anything to come of it, but who knows?” His expression turned bleak. “R.J. can be a real bastard when he wants to be. The only thing he cares about is making money, and he doesn’t understand why I don’t feel the same way. But…he’s the only family I’ve got. For now,” he added cryptically.
Dani put a hand to his cheek. “Michael, that’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”
He gave a short laugh. “Let’s not celebrate yet, okay? I’m not expecting miracles.”
“But at least you’re making the effort.”
“Right. I’m making the effort.” He drew a breath. “I hate leaving you, though. I want you to come with me, but I’m not sure that would be such a good idea—”
She pressed a fingertip to his lips. “Don’t worry about me. You should do this alone. You need time to work out things with your brother, and besides, I plan to spend the whole weekend studying. Midterms are coming up in a couple of weeks.”
“And you’ve got an A in every class. Why do you do this? Why do you put such pressure on yourself?”
His criticism rankled. “Because I’m not rich like you. I don’t have a trust fund to fall back on. If I don’t keep up my grades, I’ll lose my scholarship.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, you don’t have to worry about money? I’ll take care of you.”
She drew away from him. “I’d never ask you for money.”
“You wouldn’t have to ask. I want to take care of you.” He pulled her back into his arms. “Don’t you understand?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m in love with you. I want to marry you.”
“Please don’t say that,” she begged.
“I have to. I want you to know how I feel.” His gaze deepened. “I know you don’t feel the same about me. Not yet. But you feel something. I can see it in your eyes. And I think you could love me, too, if you’d let yourself.”
“I’m not ready for anything serious,” Dani said almost desperately. “I have to concentrate on my grades, finish school—”
“I know, I know. The last thing I want to do is put more pressure on you. But, Dani, do you have any idea how much I want you?” His arms tightened around her. “Sometimes I think I’m going to die if we don’t—” He kissed her then, not roughly or hungrily, but gently. Persuasively.
And it would have been so easy to let herself be persuaded. She loved Michael, too. She did. But something held her back. Something made her pull away even as she wanted to cling to him.
He rested his forehead against hers. “It’s okay. I won’t rush you. We’ll talk when I get back on Sunday.”
He walked away from her then, his shoulders hunched against the cold, a solitary figure trudging through the snow. And as Dani stood watching him, that dark premonition slithered back into her soul.
Someone was watching her.
The dream shifted then, and she was huddled with her roommate in the icy cold dawn, watching in horror as firemen pulled students from the smoldering dorm.
Her secret admirer was there, too. She could feel his cold breath on her neck as he whispered in her ear, “I did it for you, Dani.”
DARIAN AWAKENED from the dream as she always did, frightened, trembling, her heart pounding so hard against her chest that she grew dizzy. The images were so vivid in her mind that she could almost believe she was back on that snowy campus instead of safe and sound inside her Houston town house.
She lay staring at the ceiling, weak and exhausted, as the memories came rushing back. She put a hand across her eyes, but that never stopped them. Might as well let them come.
Rolling over, she glanced at the bedside clock. Just after midnight. Hours still until she had to get up.
Sighing, she let her mind drift back to the aftermath of the fire. It hadn’t been until much later the following morning that she’d learned Michael hadn’t gone away after all, and that the fire might even have started in his room.
The implication had almost shattered her, but the final, devastating blow had come later, when she’d received word of her inheritance. That same day, she’d gotten another letter, written in what looked to be her own handwriting: I did it for you, Dani.
The precise script matched hers exactly—just as it had in the letter she’d received after Paul Ryann’s death—that Dani had even toyed with the terrifying notion she might be suffering from a split personality. Was it possible she’d sent herself those notes? Was it possible she’d set those fires, hurt her own father…and couldn’t remember?
“YOUR DOUBTS ARE NATURAL, Dani. You feel guilty for the deaths of your friends, and you’re looking for answers. But you’re not responsible for what happened,” Dr. Gaines had said when she’d returned to Allentown after Michael’s death.
Dani stared across the desk at him. “If I’m not responsible, then who is? Why is this happening? Why did Michael and Paul have to die just because…they loved me?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” he said softly.
Because some psycho, someone that Dani might not even know, wanted her. Wanted to have her under his complete control. The notion was more than terrifying. It was monstrous.
“I’m more convinced than ever that what we’re dealing with here is a form of erotomania,” Dr. Gaines said grimly. “Your secret admirer is laboring under a false belief that you and he are in love, that the two of you belong together. That conviction keeps him tied to you, Dani. So tied, in fact, that he followed you all the way to Connecticut. I suspect he would be willing to follow you anywhere.”
Dani shuddered at the implication.
“You see, without the object of his obsession, an erotomanic feels as if a part of himself is missing. That’s why his delusions are so tenacious. Without his object—without you—he’s nothing.”
Dani wanted to put her hands over her ears and block the whole bizarre conversation, but she couldn’t do that. She had to face the reality of what was happening to her. Her family’s safety depended on it. “Why me? What did I do?”
Dr. Gaines made a helpless gesture with his hand. “It could have been something as simple as a smile or a kind word that captured his fascination. In all likelihood, he’s someone who has had little or no real contact with you, but he’s so deluded that he actually believes he’s having a relationship with you.”
“So he had to kill Paul and Michael?” Dani cried in horror. “He had to hurt my father?”
“He felt threatened by them. Erotomanic stalkers can be very vindictive. They believe their victims love them, and they can become violent when they perceive obstacles that are keeping them from that love.”
Dani closed her eyes. “Then why aren’t the police looking for him? Why do they think I’m the one who did something wrong?”
“Because most police departments, particularly those in small towns, still don’t know how to deal with stalkers. Until recently, stalking wasn’t even a crime in most states. Your case is particularly complex because your secret admirer isn’t just delusional and violent, he’s also extremely cunning. He planned those murders very carefully. He even taught himself to mimic your handwriting so precisely that if you took those letters to the police, they could only conclude that you’d written them yourself.