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sunglasses. She looked so vulnerable and absolutely stunning as she lay there, not suspecting that evil was so nearby.
    Then Rainey read the last note. “Is it now the time when destiny is ours to hold?” A cold shiver crept up her spine. It was a primitive warning sign Rainey had grown to trust. This guy was probably going to make his move soon. JW had a right to be concerned. The stalker might only be getting his nerve up to bring Katie flowers, or innocently introduce himself as an admirer, and simply disappear back into the woodwork. All this talk about fate and destiny indicated he felt he had been given a quest. Rainey knew he could not stop himself; he had to complete the task. His psychosis would prevent him from veering off course; it was driving him toward his goal, pushing him like a steam engine and soon it would blow.
    Movement in the parking lot, in front of the school, broke her attention away from the computer screen. A woman opened the rear of her van, loading a heavy milk crate full of what looked like papers the poor woman would probably have to grade tonight. As she shut the van’s rear door, she turned to wave at someone coming out of the school. It was Katie, with a large purse hanging from her right shoulder and a canvas bag dangling from the other hand, also stuffed with papers. Mrs. Wilson appeared to have a long night ahead of her as well. Rainey cranked her car and prepared to trail Katie, moving slowly out of her observation spot toward the main road. Katie climbed into her car and was on the move in seconds. Rainey pulled out two cars behind her and the stalking of the stalker began.
     

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    Rainey made mental notes of the vehicles around her as she followed the blue sedan through the late afternoon traffic. From the route Katie was taking, Rainey assumed that she was going home. Katie wound her way toward Franklin Street, through the throngs of students going to and from the University campus, which was located practically in her backyard. There was always the possibility that one of those crazed students had seen Katie around her house and taken a liking to her. Rainey would need to check the taller buildings, on this side of campus, to see if Katie’s house was viewable with a telephoto lens. The canopy of old growth trees made that unlikely, but the utility companies cut back growth at certain times of the year, opening holes where none had been before.
    She was glancing up at the trees when her personal cell phone rang. She touched the hands free button on the rearview mirror and answered, “Rainey Bell.”
    “Rainey?” It was Ernie. She always asked, as if it might not really be Rainey on the other end.
    “Yes, Ernie, what’s up?”
    “How’s it going?”
    “Fine. I’m following Mrs. Wilson home right now,” Rainey said, while stopping to allow a car to back out of a driveway in front of her. Since she knew where Katie was going, she decided to blend back into the traffic, to avoid being noticed. There were plenty of black Chargers on the road, but if one followed Katie everywhere, she would probably notice.
    “That’s why I called you. Mr. Wilson would like your private cell phone number. I told him I could patch him through, but he wanted to call direct,” Ernie said, adding, “He’s a little paranoid, don’t you think?”
    “Ernie, he’s a politician. They’re all paranoid,” Rainey said, laughing into the phone.
    “Well, can he have your number?” Ernie asked.
    Rainey kept her personal cell phone number a secret from all but her most trusted associates. Her business card listed the office number and no address. She did not have a landline in the cottage. Ernie set the business line to ring through to Rainey’s second cell, a business phone, when she left in the evenings. The business line had a permanent trap and trace put in place by the FBI, just in case the man who tried to kill her decided to call. Rainey wanted to be able to answer her