Unable to quell my curiosity, I clicked her mailbox to see who’d written to her. Three profiles came up. A guy carrying a “few extra pounds” in Omaha who loved dogs and rodeos. A guy who listed himself as five feet tall, but promised that “good things came in small packages.” And a seventy-five-year-old who listed himself as “very young at heart.”

Wow. Talk about depressing. If this was the response someone like Katie was getting, what kind of chance did the rest of us have?

“What does this have to do with your stalker?” Cal asked, glancing at his watch. Clearly he was feeling less “good” the more time we spent in Katie’s house.

“Nothing. But, it’s the best gossip I’ve hit on all year. LONELY HEART MOVIE STAR SEEKS CYBER ROMANCE.”

“I thought you said there was no shame in looking for love online.”

“There isn’t. But it makes for awesome headlines.”

Cal opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by my cell ringing from my pocket. I slipped it out and saw Cam’s number light up the screen.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“You’ve got company.”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

“I mean someone is coming up the walkway.”

I ran to the window, hiding behind Katie’s heavy curtains as I peeked out the front.

Sure enough, I could see the back of someone’s head as he stood at the front door.

“Who is he?” I asked, praying she said the UPS guy.

“The tree’s in the way. I can’t see his face,” Cam protested.

Which, I realized as the front door creaked open, didn’t much matter. Because whoever he was, he’d just entered the house.

Chapter Fourteen

I froze, adrenaline coursing through my body as I heard the sound of the front door shutting behind our mystery man. Then footsteps coming up the stairs.

Shit.

We had to hide. Now!

I grabbed Cal by the arm, making for the large, walk-in closet. I shoved aside a rack of designer gowns (OMG—I think that was Katie’s 2009 Oscar dress!) and wedged myself behind them. Cal opted to stand behind the door, his hand on the butt of his gun.

Two beats later the footsteps made their way into the bedroom. I closed my eyes, praying to the saint of breaking and entering that whoever it was saw Katie wasn’t home and left quickly.

But, by this point, we all know how great my luck is.

I heard the man walk around Katie’s canopied bed, to the window, and back again. What was he doing, pacing?

And then my luck got worse. Footsteps heading straight toward the closet.

I crossed my fingers, bit my lip, and mentally chanted “please go away, please go away, please go away.”

The door flew open, narrowly missing Cal, and I was face to face with mystery man.

“Bender, what the hell are you doing?”