her arm. “This is a bad idea, by the way. Leaving yourself out in the open like this. Shouting it from the treetops exactly where you are and how long you’ll be here. It makes you an easy target.”
“How is it any different than being at the studio? He knows where I am every day I work.”
“Yeah, but can he walk right into your studio? Can he sit a few feet away from you during your entire show? Whoever your little stalker is, he can get his hands on you here if he wants that.”
Kelly wrapped her arms around herself. She sure hoped he didn’t want that. There wasn’t a chance this guy would really show his face. Was there?
“Well, you’re here now. If he was spying on me and saw what you did to Lyle, I should be fine.”
Detective Walsh tipped his chin. “For today. Until you call your uncle. In the future, you need to think about this kind of stuff.”
She had been so gung ho about getting rid of her bodyguard a few seconds ago, but now, it seemed like one of Uncle Hal’s better ideas. Her uncle would catch this stalker, obsessed fan, whatever he was. She wouldn’t need someone to protect her forever.
* * *
DONOVAN HAD BEEN on a few stakeouts in his day. This wasn’t exactly like those but close. Instead of sitting in a car all day, he got to hang out at one of his favorite barbecue places and eat the free food the manager kept bringing him. Standing behind the table where the radio station crew sat to do their show, he slathered the pulled pork in some of the tangy and sweet Kansas City–style sauce.
“How’s it taste?” the manager asked, checking in for the third time. Donovan wasn’t sure if he was simply being generous or was afraid of getting slammed to the floor like that Lyle guy.
“It’s delicious, sir. This might be even better than the brisket, and that was heaven.”
The man’s whole face lit up. He took pride in what he did and it showed. “Glad you like it. Can I get you anything else? Did you get some cornbread?”
“I’m good, thank you. I’ve had two pieces of cornbread. You guys make the best.”
“Appreciate that. Let me know if there’s anything else we can do for you while you’re here.”
Donovan gave him a will-do nod before the manager did a quick check on Kelly and her crew. She was off-air at the moment and chatting it up with a couple of female customers. Kelly laughed at something they said and thanked them for stopping by. She had a way with people. There was something very down-to-earth about her that people seemed to be attracted to.
“Kelly Bonner, I am your biggest fan.” A man the size and height of a professional basketball player appeared at the table. Donovan could see Kelly’s back straighten and her shoulders tense. He set his sandwich down on the counter behind him and quickly wiped his hands. He had let the food distract him from watching the room.
“Glad to hear it. Would you like to spin our wheel and win yourself a prize?” she offered. Kelly’s producer had set up a prize wheel that listeners could spin for radio station paraphernalia or free food from the restaurant.
“Can I win a dinner date with you if I spin?” he asked, causing Donovan to inch closer.
“You can definitely win dinner,” she replied, ignoring the come-on.
“This place is fine for lunch, but I want to take you somewhere real nice. I know this great Italian place on the north side of town.” He placed his hands on the table and smiled down at her like a fox in the henhouse.
Donovan stepped in. “Sir, I’m going to need you to back away from Miss Bonner, please. Either spin the wheel for your chance to get your hands on a free can cozy or get in line for lunch.”
The man stood up and reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat, pulling out a business card. “I don’t need any can cozies, but if you want to have some of the best lasagna you’ve ever tasted, give me a call.” He slid the card across the table.
Kelly’s producer picked up the card. “I love lasagna. I’ll drop your card in our drawing for tickets to the Grace Note concert.”
The guy looked like he was about to say something when Kelly said, “Good luck and thanks for listening to K104.”
Taking the hint, he made his way to the register to buy himself some lunch. Donovan hoped he himself had never made a woman feel that uncomfortable before and been so clueless about it. He prided himself in being able to read people better than that.
“Sorry we had to interrupt your lunch back there,” Kelly said, cracking a smile. “I think this is the first time since we’ve been on the air that I’ve seen you empty-handed.”
Donovan tried not to roll his eyes.
“Do you think that was the guy?” her producer asked. “I listened to him talk, hoping I would recognize his voice.”
“That wasn’t him,” Donovan said.
“How do you know? You didn’t hear the guy when he called yesterday,” Kelly challenged.
“I know because you told me your stalker is angry at you for saying you had a boyfriend. That guy strode up to you like there wasn’t a chance you’d reject him. I’m less concerned about the men who approach you than the guys who hang back and watch you without saying a word.”
Kelly scanned the room with wary eyes. She bit down on her bottom lip.
Her producer put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Kel. Between me and Detective Walsh, no creep is going to touch you.”
“You’re sweet, Lyle, but I’d like to be able to take care of myself.”
Donovan admired the way she thought, and given the ease with which he took Lyle down earlier, her friend wasn’t going to be much help if things got physical. It was best she learned to defend herself.
“Maybe you could get some pepper spray,” Lyle suggested.
Kelly glanced back at Donovan and fought a smile. “I hear that’s not the best idea, actually.”
Maybe she wasn’t as stubborn as he’d assumed.
Lyle’s computer chimed. “Shoot, you’re on in thirty seconds.”
Kelly put on her headphones and Donovan slipped back behind her. It was his turn to scan the room for anyone out of the ordinary.
There was a group of women gathered around one of the tables. Their laughter came in bursts in between their raucous conversation. There was a dad and his two kids at another table. Both kids had to be under the age of five. The older child knocked over his cup and spilled red punch. His dad jumped up and grabbed the roll of paper towels off the holder at the other end of the table to wipe it up. The man’s patience was admirable. He didn’t yell or make the little boy feel bad for spilling; he simply had his son help clean it up.
Donovan wished he had that kind of patience with Graham and Avery. He was a military man who was used to always having things in order. Clutter wasn’t something that existed on a military base. Kids created clutter without even trying. His niece and nephew were like two tiny tornadoes who could mess up a room in the blink of an eye.
A group of thirtysomething professionals walked in together. Behind them was someone wearing a dark blue hooded sweatshirt. He wasn’t with them but stayed close enough to them that Donovan couldn’t get a good look at him.
“We’re going to be hanging out for another hour, so I hope you’ll come on in and spin our wheel of prizes and enter for your chance to win two tickets to the Grace Note Records Concert for the Kids,” Kelly said into her microphone. “Speaking of Grace Note, let’s play the new song from Boone Williams. This is ‘One Mountain at a Time.’” She clicked a button on her laptop and took off her headphones. “I cannot wait until the real promo for this show starts. You think I’ll get an in-studio interview with