Harper wasn’t sure what she meant by that statement, but she didn’t get a chance to ask. Lieutenant Mize motioned them back into his office. Judging by the look on his face, Danielle Stevens was being given a reprieve on her dismissal, as Harper had expected. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it, really. She had been so adamantly opposed to this assignment at first, she was shocked that she didn’t jump at the chance to get out of it. But she’d already gone into protection mode. She’d only caught a glimpse of the clown face, but she could still hear the frightened gasp that Dani had uttered, the scream when he’d thrown the red goo at them. She was a cop and Dani was a woman—not a celebrity—who needed her help. It was as simple as that. The assignment to have an actress shadow her as she prepared for a movie had morphed into a protection detail in a matter of minutes.

Chapter Eight

“You sure you don’t mind?” Dani asked. “I know it’s been a long day.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

The thought of going up to her hotel room, alone, was too intimidating to even consider doing. She had already resigned herself to begging if Harper had said no. But she hadn’t. Harper would go up with her, make sure everything was in order, then wait until the door was locked before leaving. Harper would then pick her up in the morning so she wouldn’t have to make the drive herself. They’d left her rental car at the station.

“What about dinner? Will you feel safe ordering room service?”

“I hadn’t even thought about dinner. I suppose room service will be fine.” She stared at her. “Don’t you?”

“I imagine so.”

Her shoulders sagged. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Maybe I should have done what the police suggested—hire a bodyguard and a security detail.”

“Yeah, that might keep him at a safer distance. Might even be enough to make him move on to someone else.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“No. If he’s fixated on you, obsessed with you…then no, I don’t believe he’ll just quit, bodyguard or not.”

“I hate living like this—in fear.”

“How did you manage? I mean, knowing that he could get into your house at will. How did you sleep?”

“I got a gun. I don’t know if that made me feel safer or not. Half the time I was afraid I’d roll over and shoot myself.”

Harper glanced at her as she pulled into the hotel parking lot. “You slept with it?”

“Yes. Although slept is relative. I’m not sure I’ve had a good night’s sleep in months.”