He answered, "Derrick."

Rainey reached out and stuck one of her bondsman cards in his hand, as she said, "Derrick, if you ever need this, don't hesitate to call." Then she drove away, knowing one day soon she would get a call from young Derrick, if he didn't find a new group of friends, or end up dead in some alley. At least she did not think he would be trying to steal another car tonight. She only hoped Derrick had not wet his pants. He would never hear the end of it.

Rainey turned off Old Oxford Road and onto Church Road just before noon. The school was just a little ways down the road on the right. She located Katie Wilson's dark blue luxury sedan using the description and tag number given to her by JW. Next door, she found an apartment complex with a parking lot facing the school. She pulled into a shaded spot where she could clearly see Katie's car. She made a note on the pad to find out where Mrs. Wilson's classroom was located, so she could make sure the guy was not spying on her through the windows. The school was surrounded by trees and shrubs, which provided Rainey great cover to watch from, but also supplied the stalker with the same cover.

Rainey had four hours to kill before Mrs. Wilson would be leaving school. She decided to go by JW's home address. She was soon on her way to the exclusive, Franklin-Rosemary Historic District, where the houses start at eight hundred thousand and were almost all built with old family money. JW Wilson belonged in "The District" with his family's millions from the meat packing business. Rainey did not need help from Onstar. She knew these streets better than a computer, having roamed them for the first eighteen years of her life.

Up until she was ten years old, Rainey happily lived her life as Caroline Marie Herndon, a rich daughter from an affluent family, living in a mansion, in the famous historic district of Chapel Hill, North Carolina. She was surrounded by ancient homes occupied by families who could trace their roots back to before this land became a country. Her father was a prominent heart surgeon, Dr. John Herndon, and her mother, Constance Lee Herndon, was a former debutante and direct descendent of the Virginia Lees, which seemed to be important in the South. Little Caroline went to the best schools and enjoyed the life of the privileged, but just after her tenth birthday she learned the truth about her own roots.

While hunting costumes in the back of her mother's closet, so she and her friends could play dress up, she stumbled on an old box. In it, she found a picture of her mother and a tall young man, at the beach. Her mother looked like a teenager and she was holding a baby. The young man had his arm around her mother, smiling at the camera.

With the picture, she found a birth certificate for a baby girl named Rainey Blue Bell. How odd she had thought that she and the girl named Rainey shared the same birthday. There was also a letter addressed to her mother, but her name was different. The name on the little white envelope with the red and blue trim was Connie Lee Bell. It was in an airmail envelope from Vietnam. Caroline read the letter.

Dear Connie, I don't have much time to write. Things are crazy here. I got the papers from your mother's lawyers asking me to give up any rights to our daughter. I guess I can't fight her from over here and if you won't fight her, I don't have much choice. So I'm signing them and I hope that's what you want. I probably won't make it out of here alive anyway. Please take care of my little girl. I will always love her and you. Say a prayer for me. Goodbye Connie and thanks for the memories.

Love, Billy Caroline read the letter over and over, trying to make sense of it all. She looked at the picture of the man, staring into green eyes that exactly mirrored her own. His wavy hair was the same ruddy chestnut color that thickly covered her head. Both John and Constance Herndon were blondes. She was a smart ten year old and soon she knew what it all meant. She tore down the stairs and accosted her mother and grandmother, evidence in hand.

She screamed, "Why did you make my father give me away?"

What followed was a night of tears and explanations. Her mother ran away at seventeen with William "Billy" Bell, her high school sweetheart. Connie was pregnant and afraid of what her mother would do. Her mother hated Billy. He was not up to her social standards, the son of hard working farmers from the county. Connie hid the pregnancy. She was having a small baby so it was easy at first, but by the end of the school year, she was having trouble hiding the round belly and weight gain. So, the day after graduation they got married and escaped to the Outer Banks. Billy became a fisherman to support his new wife and baby. Rainey was born in late June, just before Connie's mother found them.

Connie's mother, Martha Lee, was a very rich and powerful woman, who got what she wanted, and what she wanted was Billy out of their lives. She kidnapped Connie and the baby. She had rape charges filed against Billy. Her good ol' boy network would hang him out to dry, if he did not disappear. Billy joined the army and shipped out, but that was not enough for Martha.

Martha had the marriage annulled, through some miracle, and had her lawyers demand Billy give up his rights as a father. She insisted on changing the baby's name, because civilized people have Christian names. Rainey Blue Bell became Caroline Marie, and her grandmother swore to excommunicate anyone who ever spoke her original name again. Shortly after receiving the letter from Billy, Connie gave in to her mother's wishes. She stopped being Connie and became Constance, a carbon copy of her mother. She married well, to Dr. John Herndon, who immediately adopted Caroline. Billy Bell was erased from their lives forever, or so they thought.

Little Caroline promptly demanded that she be called Rainey Blue Bell from that moment on. Despite threats of disownment from her grandmother, the new Rainey insisted on finding her father, which she did. When she found him living twenty minutes from her home, Billy told her how he had watched her grow up, from a distance, since coming home from the war. He was fearful, if he told her who he was she would not want him to be her father, but she loved him fiercely from the first moment she saw him. Rainey immediately started spending time with Billy, finally coming to live with him at age fourteen, when her mother could no longer handle her. She still attended high school with her rich friends back in the city, but she never permanently lived at the big historic house, in the District, ever again.

Her grandmother did not completely disown her, only because she was the lone surviving female heir, but the bulk of her estate was divided between Constance and her brother, with the remainder going to Rainey's two male cousins. The inheritance paid for Rainey's education at the University of Virginia, where she earned degrees in both Behavioral Science and Computer Forensics, which led to her recruitment by the FBI, and eventually to her dream job with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. She was a Special Agent in the unit for nine years when the bottom dropped out of her perfect world. She was technically still in the FBI, but officially, Rainey was on medical leave, of an indeterminate duration. Now, coming full circle, she was back, prowling the old neighborhood, an intruder on her old turf.

She spotted the Wilson house set back from the street, guarded by a low rock and iron fence on the perimeter. A wrought iron gate opened onto a red brick walkway that curved up to the large white Gothic Revival home. The yard was abloom with bright red Crepe Myrtles and Pink Azaleas. Wild flowers, in multitudes of colors, were carefully groomed along the fence and in the small garden by the front door. The driveway cut into the lawn on the left side of the lot and disappeared around the corner of the house. Tall shrubs prevented viewing the back yard. They were also a perfect place to watch someone and not be seen. Rainey was sure at least one of the pictures she had received from JW, the one of Katie getting out of her car, had been taken from these very shrubs.

She pulled into the driveway, but did not follow it around the house. She made another note on the pad to ask if the Wilson's had an outdoor dog. If they did not, she would recommend they get a big one, with a loud, intimidating bark. That was usually enough to scare off all but the most serious kinds of criminals. The serious criminals knew how to get around the dog, the alarm and most any other deterrents, because they were patient. Patient and cunning criminals were the most dangerous. They waited, planned, and struck at the optimum time of their choosing. She hoped the guy tracking JW's wife was not one of them, as she backed out of the driveway.

The next address was a Literacy Center in downtown Durham. JW noted that Katie spent most of her evenings at the Center, teaching reading. Rainey could not believe JW let his wife go alone to the run down area of Durham, where the Center was located. It took her about twenty minutes to get there from JW's house. When she pulled into the parking lot of the strip mall, she found the Center occupying an old furniture store on the end.

Trash flew around the parking lot. The street lamps all appeared to have been shot out. Teenagers and old men hung out in front of the few open stores. The liquor store on the other end of the strip seemed to have the most loiterers. The place gave Rainey the creeps, and she was armed. She had a newfound respect for any woman who would venture down here at night, alone. Katie Wilson must be a saint to risk her life, in a place like this, to help other people learn to read. Rainey made another note; this one to ask JW to make sure Katie carried mace with her all the time, especially when she came to the Literacy Center.

There were a few more addresses on her list. Mostly where Katie shopped for groceries, the doctors' offices they went to, the malls and stores she liked to visit, and JW's office in Raleigh. She checked the time on the car dashboard and decided she would visit some of them tomorrow while Mrs. Wilson led her minions in their pursuit of knowledge. Right now, she thought she should head back to the school and get a parking place before the parents descended on the area, blocking every outlet.

She arrived at the school just before the onslaught of over protective, frenzied, yuppie moms' arrival. Rainey watched as children poured out of every exit in her view. They were all dressed in the school uniform of white polo or short-sleeved shirts and blue shorts or skirts. She watched them scamper across the grass until a blonde teacher caught her eye. It was Mrs. Wilson waving goodbye and granting last minute hugs to students. Rainey was not sure what grade she taught, but judging by the variety of the student's ages, Mrs. Wilson was beloved by all.

Katie Wilson looked as fresh as she would have when the morning bell rang. She was much more striking in person than the photographs Rainey had seen. Katie's light ash-blonde hair glistened with sun bleached highlights of almost white. She was tanned, but not unnaturally so. She wore a simple cotton dress that was patterned after the bib overalls train engineers used to wear, gathered at the waist, with a white tank top underneath. Rainey was sure the designer had Katie in mind when it was created. It hung on her body in just the right way, accenting her long, thinly muscular, arms and legs. It was a conservative dress, but on Katie, the simple seemed to match her natural beauty, making conservative sexy, in a way Rainey had never thought of.

Rainey watched as Katie reentered the school and then called Ernie back at the office. A package containing the original notes and pictures had been delivered from JW's office. Rainey asked Ernie to scan the contents and email it to her, and then asked her to lock the package in the office safe. After hanging up with Ernie, she gave her time to scan the documents, using the time to scan the horizon for anything unusual. After a few minutes, Rainey checked her email and read the notes from the stalker.

The notes appeared to have all been typed on regular computer paper, just a single line across the middle of the page. Someone had hand-written dates, in the top right corner of each note. The notes had begun in late January, arriving once a month after that. The language was not outwardly threatening, just creepy, at first glance. The January note simply said, "Do you realize how lucky you are?" A note like this would have probably been dismissed and thrown away had it not accompanied a picture of Katie lying in a hospital bed. JW had mentioned an accident and losing a child. The picture had obviously been taken by someone in the room with her. If it was not JW behind the camera, Rainey could see why this correspondence had gotten his attention.

The note dated February twenty-second asked, "Do you believe in fate?" The picture with this one was of Katie inside the Literacy Center, leaning over a young Hispanic boy, pointing at something on the page of the book in front of him. This time Rainey could tell the picture had been taken through the front window of the Center, because the dust on the storefront glass distorted the image slightly. It had been taken at night. The picture in March showed Katie in what Rainey surmised must be the backyard of her home, judging by the familiar shrubs in the background. The attending note asked another question, "Should one laugh in the face of providence?" This guy was warming up to something, but Rainey was not sure where he was going with the questioning.

The note from April was more alarming, due to it indicating possible thoughts of action. The single line read, "Is a second chance worth taking?" This time, in the picture, Katie was standing outside of her car with two bags of groceries perched precariously, in one arm, while she fumbled with her keyless remote. The expression on Katie's face made Rainey laugh. She quickly looked at the next month's picture, which captured Katie alone on an isolated beach, her pants rolled up, carrying her tennis shoes in one hand and a bucket in the other. She appeared to be looking for shells, as the ocean wind whipped her light blue jacket out like a cape behind her. The note with this picture wanted to know, "Is it not a matter of fate rather than choice?"

Rainey was beginning to see a pattern in the wording of the notes. All of the questions contained words like luck, chance, destiny or fate. The stalker believed something must be done; it was out of his control. He was bound by fate, but to do what? The latest note was dated just two weeks ago, June twenty-fifth, which happened to be Rainey's birthday. The picture was unsettling in itself. Rainey must have overlooked it when she had gone through the envelope earlier. The angle of view suggested the person holding the camera had gotten very close to a sleeping Katie, lying on a lounge chair, wearing a black one piece bathing suit. An open book lay across her chest, her eyes covered by large dark 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 private cell knowing it would not be him on the end of the line.

Rainey took other precautionary measures against that freak ever getting to her again. Besides the alarm systems, and the fact that she was always armed, Rainey had installed GPS locaters in her cell phones that Ernie could track on the office computer. Her car was Lojacked. Someone always knew her location. If Rainey could help it, she would never again feel the absolute aloneness of knowing that no one knew where she was. Rainey really wanted an implantable GPS for humans and would be the first to buy one, if the technology reached the consumer outside of the military. Of course, the technology existed; it was just too expensive for the average person.

All the property she owned, including her car, was in the business name, William Bell Enterprises. All her credit cards and bank accounts ran through the business. Her Social Security number was listed under Caroline Marie Herndon, and only a handful of people knew her by that name, since she had not used it in thirty years. She moved to Charlottesville, Virginia when she was eighteen and had not lived in the Chapel Hill area, until moving back last July. She gave Quantico as a forwarding address when she left Virginia. Rainey rarely saw anyone she knew, since she mostly chased criminals, and did not travel in the golf club circuit anymore.

If this guy wanted to find her, he would. She was not naive enough to think he was finished. Rainey only hoped he had gotten caught doing something else, and was locked up or, better yet, dead. After the attack, he had simply stopped killing or moved far away. The Bureau kept a watch out for crimes matching his particular proclivities, but so far, the man who almost took her life had gone to ground.

"Yes, go ahead and give him the number," Rainey said, although she felt uncomfortable doing it. "Make sure he understands he isn't to give that number to anyone else."

"Oh, I think he understands how private it is. I argued with him for fifteen minutes before I called you, but I'll explain it again, in plain language even a politician could understand," Ernie said sternly, gearing up for her next round with JW.

"Well, go easy on him. Don't use big words," Rainey said, teasing the older woman.

"Do you think he'll understand if I tell him Mackie will hunt him down, if that number gets out?"

Rainey appreciated Ernie's mother bear protectiveness. She smiled as she said, "Yeah, I think he'll get that. Thanks. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, bye," Ernie said, just before the phone clicked off.

Rainey touched the hands free button, terminating the call and watched as Katie's car turned into her driveway and disappeared around the house. At this time of day, there was a lot of foot traffic in the area. Frat houses, sorority houses, and rental properties were interspersed amongst the residences, making for a steady flow of people in and out of the neighborhood, until well into the evening. Rainey parked the car on the next street, deciding this would be a good time to explore on foot. No one would notice a woman with a camera taking pictures of the houses. It was a common occurrence on these picturesque streets.

The July heat had not released its grasp on the day. Even at five o'clock, it was eighty-eight degrees, but the weather on her laptop said it felt like ninety-four. The sweltering air hit her in the face, as if she had opened a broiler, instead of the car door. Deciding the jacket was just too hot; Rainey took it off and removed the shoulder holster. She took the Glock out of its holster and placed it in the side pocket of her camera bag. Her camera bag looked like a backpack, which would also allow her to blend in with the college crowd. The pad full of notes and a water bottle from the cooler went into the big zippered pocket. She put her personal cell phone back on her hip and dropped the business cell into the front of the bag. Finally ready, she stepped out on the brick walkway, and began her canvas of the block where JW and Katie Wilson lived, just as her phone rang.

"Rainey Bell," she answered.

"Did you get the package?" JW sounded breathless.

"Yes, and I have looked at the notes. I don't see anything really threatening in them, but I do believe he is ramping up to something," Rainey said, into the cell, as she continued up the street.

"Yeah, that's kind of what I thought, too," JW said, breathing heavily through his words.

"Are you running a marathon?" Rainey asked, as the heavy breathing continued in her ear.

"No, I'm on the treadmill in my office. I have to exercise when I can," he gulped. "I'm on the last uphill section. Sorry about the heavy breathing, but I can't put you on speaker phone."

"I understand," Rainey replied. "I'm walking around your block. Katie just got home a few minutes ago."

JW stopped breathing so hard in her ear. He must be off the treadmill, she thought. She stopped and sat on the low rock wall that ran through the neighborhood. She put the backpack down beside her, getting the water bottle out and taking a drink.

"Did you see anything today that worried you?" JW wanted to know.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. I do have a few questions," Rainey said, reaching for the pad in the backpack, where she had scribbled some notes earlier. "Do you have time to talk?"

"Sure. What do you need to know?" JW answered, letting out a final burst of air accompanied by the sound of him plopping into a chair.

"I noticed your backyard is surrounded by those tall boxwoods. It's a great place for a perp to hide and take pictures. I was wondering... do you have an outside dog?" Rainey asked, and then crossed the question off the page.

"No, we don't. We're both so busy, we opted for fish. They don't really mind our being gone from home," JW said.

"Well, if you're going to leave the boxwoods, and I'm sure the historical district organization would frown on their removal, you might consider getting a big dog, one with a loud bark," she said. Then she giggled a little adding, "A black Lab makes a great family pet and looks good on a political advertisement."

JW laughed, too. He said, "I'll take that into consideration."

"Okay, next," Rainey said, looking down the page. "Where is Katie's classroom located in the school?"

"She teaches first grade. Her room is on the front of the school. It's the first one on your left when you go in."

Rainey made notes before asking, "So, her classroom windows face the parking lot, by the road, right?"

"Yes, that's correct," he answered.

"Okay. Does Katie carry mace or some kind of pepper spray?"

Rainey looked up, watching the cars and people, even as she was talking on the phone. It was her training. Be observant. Notice every detail. Remain in a state of constant vigilance. These things had been pounded into her at Quantico.

"No, she's afraid one of the kids at school might get into it," JW answered.

"Well, I went to the Literacy Center and I'm recommending that she put some on her key chain and know how to use it. It's worth the risk, I think," Rainey said, trying not to scare him, but make the point anyway. "I can tell you what to buy, if you like."

"No, that's not necessary. I'll buy it and put it on her key chain myself," JW said, sounding forceful. "She'll just have to listen to me."

Rainey liked the image of big old JW being protective of his wife. He should be. Katie Wilson was stunning and charming. Rainey could tell that even from a distance. She guessed there was more than one man with his eye on Mrs. Wilson.

"Well, that's it, so far," Rainey sighed. "I'll be around the house all night and follow her to work in the morning. I think she's safe there at the school, so I'll pick her up again when she leaves work tomorrow afternoon."

"That sounds like a plan." He sounded relieved.

Rainey continued, "You have my private number. I don't usually give it out." She hesitated, and then blurted out, "You can give this number to Katie, in case she needs me in a hurry."

JW took a deep breath before saying, "I don't know Rainey. I thought we decided she shouldn't know about you."

"Just tell her I'm a friend she can call in an emergency. I can be there before the police. She doesn't have to know the particulars," Rainey assured him.

"So, she should call you instead of 911?" He sounded confused.

"No, she should put 911 on speed dial, if she hasn't already. I'm the backup, just in case," Rainey said. Although she was thinking, "If she has a chance to call." She kept the thought to herself. Then she had another idea. "I'd like to give you a GPS chip to slip in her phone. I'll have her location at all times. If she gets in trouble, at least we'll know exactly where she is."

"That sounds like a good idea. I've always wanted to do that, just to be able to keep up with her." JW seemed a little too eager to track his wife.

Rainey quickly added, "The chip comes out when this is over."

"Yeah, I guess that would make me a stalker too, huh," he said, sheepishly.

Rainey was ready to move on with her surveillance, so she ended the call, "I guess that's it for now. Email me if you think of anything else. I'm online in the car."

"Okay, let me know if you find anything." He paused, then added, "Be safe out there," before hanging up.

Rainey spent the next hour taking pictures of the vehicles parked in the area, careful to get tag numbers. She appeared to be snapping shots of the flowers blooming in the manicured lawns. With the powerful zoom lens on the digital camera, she was able to capture details from a great distance and then review them on the larger screen on her laptop. She always marveled at the things she had missed, at first glance, even though she took the picture.

Around six o'clock she headed back toward the car. Her stomach growled, as the smells of supper cooking, in the South, wafted through the trees. She stopped in front of JW's house and took a picture of the front lawn. She then took pictures going three hundred and sixty degrees from that vantage point. Rainey had just dropped the camera from her eye when she heard a voice behind her.

"May I ask what you are taking pictures of?"

It was not a demand, but a gentle inquiry, complete with Southern lilt. Rainey was shocked that she had been unaware of the woman, who had somehow appeared on the other side of the wrought iron gate. It was Katie and she was glowing in the evening sun. Not only was Rainey surprised by her presence, she was taken aback by the sheer attractiveness of this woman. Katie had changed her clothes and was now wearing old gray shorts, rolled up at the waist and a Tar Heel tank top. She must have been pulling weeds, because she was wearing gardening gloves and carrying a small spade. She had a little dirt on one cheek, which only made her more beautiful.

Rainey smiled and put the camera away, before she answered, "It's such a wonderful street and I love your wild flowers."

"Why, thank you," Katie said, extending her hand in greeting. "My name is Katie Wilson."

"I'm Caroline," Rainey replied, shaking her hand. "Caroline Lee."

Rainey lied, because she could not say her real name. It was too unusual, too easy to remember. Katie was not supposed to know Rainey was there. She removed her sunglasses from the top of her head, where she had put them while she took pictures, and placed them over her eyes. She had to get out of there fast.