Elgin’s faced screwed into a defiant pout.

“You’d collect that fat insurance policy you have on me, go to the south of France with some good looking nineteen-year old stud for a month and then come back and re-issue all my books in special limited-edition collectable volumes for which you’d charge twice the price and for which you wouldn’t have to fork out any royalties.”

“Ooooh,” Sheila pretended to agree. “Special limited-edition collectable volumes. I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe even hardback if I could get a good deal on the printing.”

“You would, too,” Elgin commented sourly.

“Damn straight.” She grinned wickedly. “God knows just because you’d be dead doesn’t mean I should suffer too.”

“If I did die, I’d come back and haunt you except you’d probably want me to keep ‘ghost writing’ Gillian Shelby.”

Knowing that the storm had passed, Sheila put her arms around her friend and they hugged.

“It’s only for ten more days. I hired Harm’s Way for two weeks and with the tap on your computer, I’m sure they’ll be able to catch this nut in that time. Probably sooner and then we can all get back normal. Surely you can put up with Campbell Harm that long.”

“I suppose,” Elgin conceded grudgingly. “But I’m serious too. In ten more days, he’s outta here. By then, I should be pretty much finished with the re-writes and then three months in the country. Promise?”

“Pinky swear.”

“You’re sure?”

Billy nodded glumly. “I triple checked.”

Harm exhaled a deep, frustrated sigh and threw the stapled pages on his desk. The young man standing in front of his desk shifted his weight nervously.

“And you’re positive this is our boy?”

“Yes sir,” he replied apologetically. “He’s the only one of Ms. Collier’s computer ‘visitors’ who can’t be accounted for legitimately. He’s tried to log on at various times, mostly between two and five a.m. and has been very persistent in his attempts.”

“You think he knows we’re on to him?”

“Hard to say, sir,” he shrugged slightly, “but I’d guess not, just from the fact that he kept trying. Building a ‘blind’ isn’t all that hard. Wouldn’t take a whole lot of smarts or technology. And if I was stalking someone from cyberspace, I sure as heck’d have someplace to hide, just in case.”

“All right, Billy. Thanks for the report. As always, it’s complete and thorough.”

“I just wish I could have been more help.”

“I know you did everything humanly possibly. Did you give your time sheet for this project to Jessica?”

The young man nodded.

“Okay then. You better get on back to the monitoring station. I know this isn’t your only case.”

Alone again, Harm reread the report carefully, frowning as he did so. At last, he set the papers down again and reached for his phone.

“Jessica, please get me Ms. Forbes at Fantasy Publishing. Tell her it’s important.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harm, I still don’t think I understand.” Elgin looked at him; those huge dark eyes filled with questions and he thought, a tinge of alarm.

“I know it’s a little complicated,” he explained patiently, “but the gist is that everyone who tried to log on to your computer, either by e-mail or alternate method, has been identified and tracked. All of them could be accounted for as friends, fans, business, etc. Except one. We believe he’s the stalker. He tried several methods of entry and his times were always between midnight and five a.m.”

“But if you know all this, why weren’t you able to locate him?”

“Because he has what is known as a ‘blind.’ You know, the little camouflage huts that duck hunters use so the ducks won’t see them. He managed to route through another ISP address.”

“Well,” Elgin pressed nervously, “how do you know it’s a ‘blind?’ Maybe it really is his address. Did you check?”

“Yes, Ms. Collier,” Harm replied, slightly annoyed that she thought him stupid or incompetent, “we checked. The ISP account belongs to a convent of nuns in Belgium. They make pottery and candy and have recently moved to the Internet to increase their sales. Apparently our stalker hacked into their system so that he could hide his own address.”

“But can’t you tap into their computer?”

“He’s gone. More than likely, he’s got several of these ‘blinds’ scattered around and probably knows how to build more.”

“So…so he knows you’re on to him?” The tiniest tremor appeared at the edge of her voice.

“We just don’t know. Building a ‘blind’ or even several isn’t that hard. Ours is the most sophisticated, cutting-edge technology available. It’s designed to track without being tracked. I find it difficult to believe that our stalker has either the technology or the expertise to evade it.”

“But he did evade it.”

“He didn’t evade it, Ms. Collier.” She made him hot under the collar again.

“He just covered his tracks. My personal opinion is that he’s either lost interest in the game or been scared off. At any rate, Harm’s Way will continue to monitor the situation and provide personal security for the rest of the agreed upon period. At the end of that time, I’d say that you can call it a day and consider the problem solved.”

Unexpectedly, he smiled. A warm, genuine, very nice smile. Elgin felt her anxiety disappear like vanilla ice cream under a summer sun.

“I really don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”

Relieved both at the thought that the stalker had gone and that she would soon have her life back, Elgin smiled too. At least, that’s what she told herself, hastily trying to squash the unexpected tingle his smile produced.

“Well that’s good,” she murmured. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“I really think I ought to call Mr. Harm,” he repeated anxiously.

“Good heavens, why?” Elgin badgered. “I’ve rearranged my whole life for this foolishness. This is your last day. Tomorrow I have to go back to living the way I did before I ever knew Harm’s Way existed. What difference does it make if I get started a little early?”

“Ms. Collier, I understand that you’re anxious to get back to normal after all that’s happened. But I’m assigned to protect you until my shift ends. And Mr. Harm gave very specific instructions about you not keeping this beauty appointment. At least not today.”

Elgin glared at him. Pete Fowler had been her day escort for the entire two weeks that she’d been under Harm’s Way’s vigilant eye. Nice enough, medium height, medium build, short brown hair, kind brown eyes. Until they’d been formally introduced, she hadn’t even noticed him trailing her.

“Look Pete,” she declared, “I’m going to keep my hair appointment. I have been going to this woman for longer than I care to admit and long after you are gone and Harm’s Way is mercifully forgotten, I will still be going there. If there’s a stalker lurking out there somewhere, he’ll know where to find me next Wednesday at eleven-thirty a.m. so what’s the difference?”

“The difference is, next Wednesday at eleven-thirty a.m., I won’t be responsible for you.”

“Good bye Pete,” she grumbled and pushed past him and started for the cab waiting at the curb. In two long strides he’d caught up with her.

“All right, Ms. Collier,” he grinned, “have it your way. But I still have to call and let Mr. Harm know.”

“Anything you want, Pete, only let’s get going while I still have a hair appointment to keep.”

The Beauty Spot, a small salon in the less impressive side of town, wedged itself between a neighborhood grocery and a dry cleaning shop. Wanda Jacobs, the shop’s owner and principle employee, was a large, motherly woman with perfectly coifed silver hair and friendly blue eyes that seemed to disappear in the laugh lines around her eyes.