“Oh right.” Dutch’s voice is light. As if we’re having a tea party or a casual conversation. “You’re the security who was talking to Redhead—” he smoothly corrects himself, “Cadence that night at the park.” “Redhead?” Rick scrunches his nose. Recognition lights in his eyes a moment later. “That night when I saw you dressed up in a wig…” He pauses and says in horror. “You’re the stalker?”
