“I don’t think I’ve noticed any of these people,” I say, flipping through the printouts that Riley handed me as soon as we got into his rented BMW. He’d insisted we take my car in to have the hood repainted. And, frankly, I was fine with erasing that particular memory. “You really think one of these men is my stalker?”

“I think the odds are good, but honestly the position of the security camera makes it hard to compare guests across the course of days. Zac agrees that the setup is lame—he didn’t install the system and only started working there a few months ago.”

“So now that he knows, he’ll fix it.” I lift a shoulder. “Too late for me, but that should help someone else.”

“Not necessarily too late for you,” Riley says. “Zac’s going to try to get me names, and we’ll see what we see. Oh, I do know that we can rule our gray-haired suspect out. The one with the younger woman on his arm.”

“Yeah? How do you know that?”

“Zac texted as I was setting up the house earlier. He visits the club at least four times each week, often brings a guest, and left yesterday about an hour after he arrived because he got a call that his daughter was in labor. The girl who works the door said he was positively beaming when he left, and I checked with the hospital. He went straight to Cedars and was there through the night until his grandson was born this morning.”

“A happy ending, at least,” I say, my mind shifting to Aly as I make a mental note to call and update her. After all, a lot’s happened in a short time.

I lean back in the leather seat, then frown as I recall our conversation. “What do you mean by setting up the house? My house?” I turn to face him. “What did you do?”

“Hopefully something you’ll like. Don’t worry. Nothing too invasive. Just one trip to Home Depot and I was good to go.”

I narrow my eyes. He’s teasing me, of course. I’m guessing he either installed an alarm system or he bought me flowers. Either way, I’m good.

As it turns out, though, I’m not good enough. Because when we get home, I realize I’m completely off the mark. There is no alarm system—although he tells me that he did talk to Ryan Hunter about finding someone to install one at cost—and my living and dining areas are entirely lacking in flowers.

“You were just pulling my chain,” I say. “You haven’t done a thing to my house. Unless…” I trail off, looking toward the kitchen. “Are you cooking me dinner?”

“Not exactly,” he says.