and headed toward Sunset Boulevard, a man huddled behind the wheel of his five-year-old Ford down the block and watched. Hidden beneath thick bougainvillea and oleander in the driveway of a neighbor who was out of town, the man took no notice of the morning’s sapphire-blue sky or the sweet, romantic scent of orange blossoms perfuming the Southern California air.
He’d seen enough to give him several new directions to follow. He had slowly worked at setting this plan in motion over the last month or so, and every detail needed to be perfect for him to get what he wanted.
Last night’s “stalker” note and the commotion that had followed had actually seemed to be accomplishing just what he’d hoped. Then a few hours ago he had been disappointed when the police left after only a cursory search. That kind of reaction wasn’t nearly good enough. They’d given up too soon. He would need to ramp up the tension.
But his plans were taking shape. The goal was in sight.
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