The Rosebud Stalker

By Laura A Hooper

He breaks into her home, holding a single, long stem, red rose. He then cons her into having sex with him.
With each new victim Kate Griffith interviews, the more she discovers this stalker is actually helping these women in some sick, twisted way. They had lost all hope of ever having sex or even loving again. He has given that back to them, or so they think.
Kate’s own sexual tension is about to shift into overload thanks to her best friend Jeff. He wants to be more than just friends. How long can she avoid her sexual desire for him, while having hot, steamy sex with the catch of the town, Alex Montgomery?
As Kate draws closer to discovering the truth behind the stalking’s, she begins receiving letters, letting her know she has a stalker of her own. Can her friend and boss Fran, help her hold it together long enough to solve what sick, twisted game is really being played?
Will Kate discover the true identity of the stalker before he takes it one step too far and someone pays the ultimate price or is she too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laura A Hooper
• Release date: Aug 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9780981778709

Book preview

1

It was after 7 a.m. when I walked through the front door and headed straight for the fridge. All I wanted was a cold beer and a couple hours of sleep.

I could still smell the scent of smoke on my clothes. Covering a fire is not one of the more glamorous aspects of being a reporter for the Herald. Growing up in this part of Western New York, I knew stories that could capture national attention were far and few between, so I took whatever story was thrown my way.

The only good thing about this fire, if there was one, is that it was a barn and not someone’s home. I did have to observe the owner watch as part of his business went up in smoke. He raises cattle and the barn was full of hay, which gave plenty of fuel to the fire.

I opened the beer and noticed the light on the answering machine flashing. Yeah, don’t think so. It can wait.

I went into the bathroom and stripped down to my panties. I stood in front of the mirror, hands on hips, and took a quick survey. You could still turn a few heads if you wanted to Kate. Who was I kidding? Everything was slowly heading south; probably why you haven’t had a date in over two months. Yeah, you’re a real sex magnet, Ms. Griffith.

I finished my beer, climbed into bed, and was just starting to drift off when I heard a noise coming from outside.

It was well after seven thirty now, and most of my neighbors were at work. I rolled over and put it out of my mind, until I heard another noise coming from the kitchen this time.

I opened my eyes to find a man standing over me. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. I tried to sit up, but he pushed me back down on the bed. He reached down and touched my breast. He looked me in the eyes and smiled; Morning, sweet Kate. How I have missed you.

The man on top of me was Matt Sampson. We had gone to high school together and I had always secretly fantasized what it would be like to get all hot and sticky with that man. Now here he was, live and in person.

He bent down and kissed me so hard it almost hurt; almost. My semi droopy boobs were happy for the attention as the rest of my body grew jealous. He slowly made his way to my panties and pulled them off.

I unzipped his jeans, and reached my hand inside. He was definitely happy to see me. I grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it off over his gorgeous blond hair and threw it on the floor. He rolled me back over and took off his jeans. Matt still had a great body. He has the greenest eyes I had ever seen. Using my finger tips, I could feel every muscle from his chest to his stomach.

His lips touched the edge of my mouth. I didn’t know what was moving quicker, the butterflies in my stomach or the ceiling fan overhead. Now I could feel his tongue in my mouth searching out every square inch of it.

My body was on fire as we made love. I arched my back in anticipation of what was still to come. Who said I was tired?

I gently dragged my nails up and down his back and kissed the inside of his left ear. His breathing told me he was hot and heavy for me and I thanked him in ways he would not soon forget. We made love two times that morning. Damn he was that good.

As exhaustion took its toll on both our bodies, Matt moved next to me, revealing that cute, tight ass of his. I never wanted this morning to end. I closed my eyes and instantly fell asleep. Suddenly a noise was entering into my sleep. This had better be good. I forced myself to open my eyes only to discover my alarm was going off. Reality can be so harsh. I had once again dreamt about Matt. I reached my right arm across only to discover that I was in fact alone in my bed. I’m having sex in my dreams. How much more pathetic can one person get?

I rolled my sorry butt out of bed and made my way to the kitchen, where I grabbed a glass and poured myself some juice from the fridge. It was then that I noticed the light still flashing on the answering machine.

I hit the play button as I drank my juice. The next voice I heard was that of my boss and closest friend Francis O’Donnell. After my divorce five years ago, Fran and I made a pact that we were done with men. They were nothing but trouble and heartache. That’s probably why sex seems to be so good in my dreams. I haven’t had it for so long, I’ll take it where I can get it.

She was yelling into the phone. I could picture that short blond hair of hers bobbing up and down with the motion of her head. She can be quite dramatic.

Kate, where in the hell are you? I have one of the strangest and potentially biggest stories here and you are MIA! I know you were out covering that fire most of the night, but you could at least have your damn cell phone on. When you get this message, get your ass in here!

I reached into my purse and found my cell phone. The battery was dead. It was actually a blessing or that thing could have gone off in the middle of my love making to Matt. Yeah, I know it was just a dream, but it was a pretty damn good one.

I jumped in the shower and decided I had better not take time to shave my legs. I got out, dried my hair and threw it back in a clip. I reached into my closet for a pair of brown khaki capris and my favorite tight green blouse. It fit just right over my new black lacey bra. I needed something on this body to look perky.

I slipped into my sandals and went back to the kitchen. I threw my cell phone into my purse, grabbed my keys, and headed for the door. Stopping in my tracks, I turned around snatching up the bag with the laptop in it. It's important for a reporter to have. When I jumped into the truck, I plugged my phone in and backed out of the driveway.

As I walked through the front door of the Herald, I could already hear Fran having a not so quiet conversation on the phone. I stopped by the receptionist’s desk to pick up my mail and headed into Fran’s office. There on her desk was a box of chocolate donuts and a Diet Coke. I’m sure in Fran’s mind, one outweighs the other.

She looked up at me over her glasses and scowled. You can get wrinkles doing that you know. I joked. Her sense of humor had left the building. Sit down and shut up. Having a good morning, Kate? All rested and ready for the day? You forgot to charge that damn cell phone again, didn’t you?

As Fran went on babbling, I sat there thinking about the dream. God, it was a terrific nonexistent orgasm that I had had. I wonder…

Kate, where in the hell are you? Are you trying to piss off the boss? Today is not the day to piss off the boss!

Sorry. I raised my eye brow and smiled. "I had the dream again last night. I would have to say that sex was even better this time around."

"Kate, it was a dream! And you tell me I need a date. Can we focus on work now please?"

Fine, I said, as I rolled my eyes.

Fran began filling me in on a potential story she had received from her ‘source’. He promised that it would be well worth our time. I thought at first she was joking, but considering how Fran’s morning was going so far, I guess not. I stood to go and asked Fran if we were still on for pizza and beer later at Angee’s, one of our favorite small spots to go.

Of course we are. I live for that, as pathetic as it may sound. You, of course Kate, have nothing smart ass to say about that since I believe, oh yes, you are the one that keeps having sex in her dreams!

I picked up what was left of the box of donuts on Fran’s desk and chucked them into the trash can. There, and yes, you’re welcome for saving you from all those unwanted calories. You can keep the Diet Coke. Fran tried not to laugh as she pointed toward the door, which meant to get the hell out.

2

Thirty minutes later I was crossing the state line from New York into Pennsylvania, heading for the small town of Eldred. I was to meet Fran’s ‘source’ at the local diner in town. Harry Johnson was a sheriff’s deputy for McKean County. He always liked to give information to Fran whenever he could, as long as his name made the paper and he came off sounding like a hero.

I pulled up and parked in front of the 50’s style diner. Harry was waiting there to greet me. How ya doin’; you must be Kate Griffith and I must be Harry Johnson. His laugh already told me a little something about Harry. He is single guy and a little annoying, never been married, tries way too hard to impress the ladies, and thinks he looks good in a uniform. When he shook my hand, it was almost a massage. His, by the way, needed some lotion badly. Those he’s a creep chills moved through me. I needed a shower after that hand shake.

Inside the diner, we grabbed a booth by the front window and both ordered coffee while Harry ordered himself a large glazed donut. The waitress came back a minute later with our coffee and told Harry she had saved the last glazed donut just for him. By the look the two gave each other, I would say some of Harry’s moves, tacky as they might be, must have been paying off.

As I drank my coffee, Harry began to fill me in on why I was there. It seems that earlier in the week, on Elm Street, not far from the diner, a man had broken in through the back door of 66-year old Alice Baxter’s home. Alice has never felt the need to lock her doors because it has always been a very safe area. Hell, most people don’t even have locks on their doors to begin with. I sat there scratching my head, wondering if this story was going anywhere when Harry said in an almost whisper, this is where the story gets weird.

It seems that when Mrs. Baxter returned home from the grocery store that morning, she entered through the same back door she always did and found rose petals scattered across the floor. Now Mrs. Baxter knew they weren’t from her husband, Ted, because he had passed away three years ago following complications from heart surgery.

She set her bag of groceries down on the floor at the back door and began to follow the petals. They led to her bedroom where standing with a single, long stem, red rose was the intruder! He immediately began to convince her that he wasn’t there to harm her and even fell to his knees crying!

At this point in the story, I found myself sharing Harry’s donut, waiting to hear what happened next. I was to say the least, intrigued. Alice felt so bad for this man; she took him into her kitchen and made him some tea! Harry said.

Wait a minute, I said to Harry, the woman made the man tea? You have got to be kidding, right? Harry shook his head no and continued.

The man began his story by telling Alice that he had seen her around town from time to time and always noticed she was alone. He had inquired at the local market where Alice shops if she was married and was told she was a widow. He told Alice he was also a widower of five years since he lost his precious wife to cancer.

He and Alice talked for over two hours, when the man told Alice that he was now dying and just wanted to be held and loved one more time before he left God’s beautiful earth. He didn’t want to pressure Alice, but knew she was also alone. The next part of the story almost made me lose the partial donut I had just eaten and maybe even dinner from the night before.

Alice and this man made love on her quilted blanket that she placed on the floor next to her bed. They laid there together for over an hour. When he was about to leave, he whispered to Alice, You are my Rose Bud. and was gone.

Alice’s daughter had been trying to reach her on the phone this entire time and had become worried. She raced over to her mother’s house only to find the bag of groceries still on the floor by the back door and the rose petals leading to the bedroom. When she peaked around the corner of the bedroom, she let out a gasp--there on the blanket was her mother half asleep and naked!

After Alice’s daughter had finally gotten the story out of her mother, she called the police. When the police came and questioned Alice, she refused to file a report and would not even give the officers a description of the man.

All she kept saying was that it was some of the best sex she had ever had! Her daughter kept yelling at her to quit saying that, but Alice just smiled. The police had no other choice but to leave.

When Harry was finished, I just sat there rubbing my temples. Was I really hearing this right? Alice was about the same age as my mother and I didn’t ever want to think about her having sex with my father let alone a stranger. Harry looked at me and said, Weird, huh? That was the understatement of the day.

After I thanked Harry and promised that his name would appear in the article, I decided to pay a visit to Mrs. Alice Baxter on Elm Street.

3

As soon as I walked through the front door of Angee’s, I could already smell the sweet aroma of pasta and pizza. I could see I had beaten Fran there, but the third member of our illustrious group was already seated and enjoying a cold one. Jeff Marcus looked up as I walked over. He stood and gave me that cozy, safe hug he was so known for.

Jeff owns his own accounting firm. He’s done very well for himself financially, but just like Fran and me, Jeff has little to no social life, which means Jeff isn’t getting any either. Sex isn’t the only thing I think of, really.

I’ve never understood why he hasn’t found someone by now. From his curly blond hair, which I am completely jealous of, to those biceps and very cute butt, he is such a catch.

I ordered a beer and kicked my shoes off under the table. If I could have removed my bra, it would have been a goner.

Jeff began telling me about the large deal he had sealed earlier in the day while golfing at the local country club with a couple of clients. Now if you know Jeff at all, you know that he hates to golf, which I don’t get because he’s pretty damn good.

Every now and then on a Saturday, I’ll drag him to the nine hole course on Birch Run road in the nearby town of Allegany. I’m really in it for the beers that I make Jeff buy after we have finished.

I asked Jeff if he knew what was coming up in a couple of weeks and his smile disappeared. He knew that I was talking about the alumni festivities in Hinsdale, which is a big deal in a small town. He despised the thought of it. He never went and didn’t plan to this year either.

You see, Jeff and I graduated together, so I knew he wasn’t the most popular guy in school. He was shy and quiet, but very adorable. Some of the guys in our class would accuse Jeff of being gay. Those same guys are now married to large, slightly unattractive women and extremely miserable. Life