In the past four weeks, Kimberly Blake had known someone was following her. She could sense it so clearly, that prickly sensation down the center of her spine, hair standing up at the back of her neck, goose bumps marching an eager path down her arms. Someone was there. When she went shopping for groceries, when she got the mail, when she dressed for bed at night. Someone was watching.

She hadn't communicated her fears to anyone, because she feared they wouldn't believe her and think that she was crazy. Hell, she was actually beginning to think that she was a little bit crazy. Because no matter how weird she...