Page 20 of No Cap

“What’s this?” I asked, catching the paper that’d just printed on the printer next to my brother’s desk.

I tilted my head, my brain playing some weird game of déjà vu with me at the name on the paper. One thing in particular, though, had my eyes fixated on it.

A name.

Hollis.

Hollis.

Hollis.

Hollis.

“That is the comedian’s information. The one who’s coming to town tonight and playing at the Cowboy Stadium,” Quaid grumbled. “We’re working jointly with Ft. Worth Police Department and Irving Police Department, because apparently this comedian dude is a big deal.”

Funny, if he was such a big deal, why had I never heard of him?

I read off the information about him and drew a blank. “Never heard of him.”

Now the name Hollis was definitely ringing a bell.

“Me, neither,” Quaid admitted. “But he’s apparently number one on Spotify right now and thinks he’s hot shit because of that.”

I flipped to the next page and froze.

I hadn’t seen her face in six months, but I’d know it anywhere.

It wasn’t every day that you told someone her best friend had committed suicide, and she lost her goddamn mind.

The name definitely made sense, now.

“And that’s his stalker,” Quaid said, seeing the image I was staring at.

Stalker? What?

“What?” I asked in surprise.

Had I heard him correctly?

“His stalker,” Quaid repeated. “Or, at least, his alleged stalker. I read the judge’s report. Truthfully, I didn’t think he had enough evidence of her being a stalker to warrant a restraining order, but he still has one. Either way, we have to enforce it. If she’s seen anywhere near his vicinity tonight, she gets arrested.”

I shook my head, trying to figure out how the shy, broken woman who was Hollis Aue, could also be Taite DeRosa’s stalker. The two didn’t add up.

“Huh,” I shook my head. “I can’t see it.”

In the photo they had of Hollis, she was dressed in white. She was smiling wide for the camera, and her eyes were sparkling. She had straight white teeth, dark brown hair, and beautiful cognac-colored eyes.

Even the harsh way the printer framed her face didn’t detract from her beauty.

“If she’s a stalker, I’ll eat my shoe.” I shook my head.

But seriously, there was no way this woman was a stalker. She didn’t fit the vibe.

“They are all crazy, Quincy. Don’t you know that by now?” Quaid jeered.

I flipped him off. “Fuck you.”

Apparently, I had a rap sheet of crazy females I tended to date for long periods of time before I figured it out, so sue me.