by Kathy Krevat
Clayton’s line I have a feeling he’s the kind who finds you was beginning to creep me out, especially when I went into the almost empty Horton Plaza Garage. I came out on the wrong floor and had to walk up a ramp to find my car.
Beside it was a black BMW.
I stopped still, a strange warning prickle making the hair on my arms stand up. I instinctively backed up and hid behind a pillar halfway down the ramp, hoping the driver hadn’t seen me.
Pulling out my phone, I bent over and awkwardly dashed back through the glass door, my lungs feeling so tight that I could only breathe in tiny gasps. I plastered myself against the wall and dialed Norma while peeking out.
Then the BMW drove by me, heading to the exit, and I pulled back so the driver couldn’t see me. I hung up, thinking for a moment that I was worrying for no reason. The car windows were too dark to see inside, even when it passed under a fluorescent light.
Something about it was familiar. The glass was darkened well past the legal limit.
Then I remembered where I’d seen it. Outside Benson’s house the morning I’d yelled at him.
I ran out and took a photo of the retreating car, hoping I caught the license plate. Then I redialed Norma’s number.
“This is going to sound crazy,” I said. “But I think someone did something to my car.”
“Where are you?” she asked, and I could tell she was getting up from whatever she was doing to take action.
I told her where I was and about the BMW. A group of teens walked by, their chatting about a movie making me feel like I was probably overreacting.
“Stay on the line,” she said. “I’m going to put you on hold for a minute.”
I did as I was told, my fear giving way to embarrassment that I was worried about nothing.
Norma came back on. “I asked a patrol car to take a look, and I’m on my way.”
Oh man. What if I imagined the whole thing? I walked back up the ramp and looked at my car. I felt the frisson of fear again. Maybe it was an overactive imagination.
“Did you see him do anything?” Norma asked.
I felt even more foolish, especially when I heard Norma starting her car. “No,” I said. “Maybe I should go closer and look at it or something.”
“No!” Norma said. “Trust your instincts. Stay away from the car.”
Five minutes later, a patrol car pulled up and I waved the officers down.
They looked like they were still in their twenties, but were completely professional, both checking out the car from a distance and then moving closer. The shorter one dropped onto the ground to inspect underneath, and shook his head at the other that he didn’t see anything. The other looked into the back seat and then stared at me. He called his partner over and pulled out his cell phone to take a photo of whatever was there.
My heart raced. “What is it?”
They both backed away from the car and then walked toward me. The shorter one called in an order, with numbers I didn’t understand, but with an urgency that was clear.
The taller one held out his phone. “Do you recognize these people?”
I had to grab his phone and enlarge the photo, not really understanding what I was seeing. “What is that?”
“You have a bunch of photos in your back seat,” he explained.
Suddenly, I could make sense of what I was seeing. Pictures. Of me, Elliott, my dad, Annie, Lani, Joss, and Kai.
I opened my mouth but all the air had left my lungs. My legs gave out and I would’ve fallen to the ground if the officer hadn’t caught me.
“It’s a threat,” I said, when I could breathe again. “Against everyone I love.”
Chapter 20
I was sitting inside the patrol car when Norma arrived, right after the bomb squad. She spoke to them briefly and came over to talk to me. One of the officers had found another GPS tracker on my car, hidden better this time. But at least they hadn’t found a bomb.
She sat in the back with me but didn’t say anything.
“Did you see the photo I sent you?” I asked.
She nodded. “We researched the license plate. Unfortunately, it’s a counterfeit plate. The driver has probably switched it out by now.”
The news didn’t even faze me. Someone had tracked me to the meeting and decided that it was time to leave me an explicit warning.
Maybe they didn’t like the kind of questions I was asking.
I’d been warned away from investigations before, and it was always when I was getting close to finding the murderer. But this time the murderer might as well be a ghost. It was most likely whoever was tracking and bugging me with military grade equipment. We had no way of knowing and no way to prove anything.
And even though I’d been warned before, nothing like this had ever happened. The photos shook me up. Someone had been following me and taking photos to use them for just this purpose.
Even though I was scared down to my bones, I couldn’t help wondering how I could figure out who this sadistic jerk was. But I had an idea.
* * * *
The employees of A&D College Consulting did not get to work early. I figured that out when I arrived outside their offices before seven in the morning and sat looking at the green glass-enclosed small building for three hours in the parking lot. I’d borrowed my dad’s car since mine was evidence once again.
Just as I was about to give up and go find a bathroom, a white Porsche drove up and out stepped Ian Luther. He looked just like the photo on the company website, down to the highlighted hair and tweed jacket with leather elbow patches.
“Mr. Luther?” I called out.
He turned and I was just about to congratulate myself on my stalking skills, when he took one look at my face and bolted for the front door.
What the heck?
I dashed after him, repeating his name. Luckily, the key gave him a little trouble and I was able to catch up. “What’s wrong with you?” I demanded, and slid into the building with him before he could pull the door closed. I backed up against the door.
“I don’t have time this morning,” he said trying to sound haughty but coming across more frightened.
I pulled out copies of the photos that Norma had given me. “Too bad,” I said. “I need to show you these. Someone left them in the back seat of my locked car.”
His eyes closed briefly.
“You don’t seem surprised by that,” I said. “Do you know who these people are? That’s my twelve year old son.” I pointed to each person. “That’s my boyfriend’s ten year old daughter. That’s my dad’s seventy-five year old friend.”
“Hold on.” He walked over to turn off the security system that had started making warning beeps.
“Who is threatening me?” I asked. “You must know something.”
“I can’t tell you anything.” He sounded distraught about it rather than mad.
“Is he some kind of college fixer?” I asked.
His face turned ashen and he sat down in a lobby chair with a low moan, his hands covering his face. “I’m not going to say another word. Except to tell you to go home and forget everything you know about him. I’m stuck with the devil, but you don’t have to be. Save yourself.”
* * * *
By the time I got home, Norma was probably already at A&D College Consulting. Ian might be able to stand up to me, but now that Norma knew this fixer was out there, she’d be ruthless. A few threats about warrants, and he’d be spilling everything he knew.
I hoped.
She’d also given me a photo from the security camera of a downtown Staples. A man with long hair wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap had printed out the photos using a machine in the corner. He’d kept his face angled away from the cameras but the photo she sent me was pretty good. I just had never seen him before.
The cashier had
gotten a weird vibe from him, and thought the hair was a wig.
The fact that he used a store like that meant he hadn’t been planning to ambush me with the photos. He saw me, or heard me, at the meeting and decided he needed to scare me off. For some reason, that made me feel a little better. Then I realized he may have been at the networking meeting and had simply slipped out early. The chill came back.
I checked in with Zoey and she said production was on schedule and I didn’t need to come in. She hadn’t heard anything from Red. In fact, her friend had gone to the same bar to get a read on him, and he’d never shown up.
I spent the afternoon catching up on accounting and making sure all of our ingredients were in stock.
I got ready early for my standing date night with Joss, deciding to wear a dress and heels. If Joss was going to say what I thought he was going to say, I wanted to treat it as a special occasion.
He came to my door wearing a nice blue button-down shirt, which matched his eyes, and black dress pants.
“You look beautiful,” he said. He’d brought his car and we went to a wonderful Italian restaurant in La Mesa. He ordered Chianti and we shared the fried calamari appetizer.
“I heard the eggplant parmesan here is awesome,” I said. “But did you see the size of those raviolis that went by?”
“Let’s get both and split them,” he suggested.
He grabbed my hand, brushing his thumb across it. “Have you heard anything about your proposal for those LA stores?”
By unspoken mutual agreement, we stayed away from any discussion on murder or exes. I had such a good time that I forgot he might be thinking of saying something important, until the drive home.
He cleared his throat. “Um, my house or home?”
“Well, I haven’t seen the goats in days,” I said.
He gave me a nervous smile, and I got concerned. Maybe he was ready to tell me something bad, not good. I pretended to be staring out at the scenery, which made no sense because it was dark. Finally, we got to his house and walked over to see the sleeping goats, who were still totally adorable, and then went inside.
He led the way into the living room, which he’d filled with candles. They were the fake kind, so he didn’t risk burning the house down. The whole room glowed with warm flickering lights. A bottle of champagne was set in an ice holder on the coffee table, beside a large vase of red roses.
“Wow. This is amazing,” I said. “Did I forget our anniversary or something?”
He paused as if doing math in his head. “It might be, but that’s not what this is about.”
He pulled me close and leaned his forehead against mine. “I want you to know something I’ve been feeling for a while, but haven’t had the courage to tell you.”
I stayed silent, my heart in my throat, and looked into his eyes.
“I love you,” he said.
Even though I’d hoped for it, I was still stunned. I’m pretty sure my face got all melty just like a cartoon character’s does, and that little hearts started floating around my head. “I love you too.”
I kissed him and my phone rang. This time I ignored it.
“Hold on,” he said. He grabbed both of our phones and put them on the porch.
Then he came back in and kissed me until I was breathless.
* * * *
I snuck into my house after midnight, and even though I was exhausted, I couldn’t stop smiling.
Then Zoey called and I knew something was terribly wrong. “Colbie,” she whispered. “He’s here.”
A chill ran down my spine. “Call the police,” I said. “And tell me where you are.” I dug for my dad’s keys.
“I called them,” she said. “I don’t know why I called you.”
“Tell me the address,” I insisted. “I’ll be right there.”
“4545 Cabot Street,” she said. “He’s singing at the top of his lungs outside. You can’t miss him.”
I ran outside, not stopping to lock the door. “I’m on my way. Stay on the phone with me.”
“Shit,” she said, sounding panicked. “I think he saw me.”
“Stay away from the windows,” I said, but it was too late.
“What the—” Whatever she was about to say was drowned out by the sound of breaking glass.
“Oh my God.” Her voice was a frightened sob. “He’s coming in!”
“Run!” I yelled. “Get out of there!” I started the car and peeled out without putting my seat belt on.
I could hear Red clearly in the background. “You cheating bitch! You always thought you were the good one, but now we know the truth, don’t we.” His words were slurred.
Then I heard a slap followed by a scream and a thump that made me go cold. The phone went dead and I drove faster, screeching around the corners, my heart pounding as I chanted “too slow, too slow,” over and over. Then I saw the Cabot Street sign and with one last turn, I slammed to a stop. Six police cars had their headlights pointed at the house.
Red was holding Zoey in front of him, his arm around her neck. She was on her tip-toes, struggling to find purchase on the ground so she could breathe. Blood ran from her mouth.
They were surrounded, a dozen guns pointed at them, but Red wasn’t giving up.
Then Zoey sagged down and her body went limp.
“No!” I yelled.
He nearly dropped her, her dead weight too much for him, but at least his grip loosened.
I yelled, “Shoot him!” but then Zoey came alive. She bit his arm, hard, and he screamed, then she slipped away from him, and took an attack stance I’d only seen in movies. She bounced on her feet twice, and went into a flying round house kick that connected with his face.
His head jerked back, taking his body with him to the ground. She completed her circle in the air and landed on both feet, keeping her eyes focused on him.
A couple of the police started to move in, but someone in charge yelled, “Stay back!”
Red struggled to get to his feet, his knees buckling before he could stand. He screamed and lunged at her.
Zoey danced back a step, and he missed her completely. Then she got to work, hitting and kicking him with martial arts combinations that sent him to his knees.
She bounced on her toes, watching him carefully, the headlights of the police cars making her the star attraction. Then she grabbed him by his hair, pulled his head up to look him in the eyes, said something I couldn’t hear, and then slammed his face into the ground.
The police swarmed both of them, and I ran as close to her as I could get. She was heaving, pulling in air in big breaths. Steam rose off of her body as she wiped the blood from her mouth.
She looked like an Amazon, like every woman who wanted to avenge her hurts.
A woman officer told her to put her hands on the car and Zoey followed her orders.
“You did it,” I said. “You kicked his ass.” I yelled to her as another officer forced me to move back. The words seemed so small compared to the victory.
She turned her head to meet my eyes and nodded, her expression intense.
The officer put handcuffs on Zoey and led her to one of the police cars. I heard her say something about making a statement.
“Don’t answer any questions. Don’t say a word,” I shouted, “until your lawyer gets there!”
I looked down at the battered pulp of Red, his groaning giving me mixed feelings. He was a waste of human skin, but I didn’t want Zoey to go to jail. He turned on his side in a fetal position, his arms wrapped around what had to be multiple broken ribs. There was no way he was bothering her ever again.
Zoey had already made her statement.
Chapter 21
I called Quincy right away and followed the car Zoey was in to the police station. Quincy’s lawyer arrived less than an hour later.
Stuck in the waiting room, I texted Lani with what had happened. Of course, she was asleep and didn’t answer.
Two women officers seemed to be talking about Zoey as they walked by. “I say that girl’s a freakin’ hero.”
The other one said, “We should get her to work here.”
You can’t have her, I wanted to tell them.
Then I got a phone call from Zoey’s phone and I quickly picked it up. “This is the San Diego Police. We understand you received a call from this number earlier tonight?”
I hung up. I wasn’t saying a word until I talked to Quincy’s lawyer. Fortunately, he walked out to the lobby to bring me in the back to make a statement. “Just tell them exactly what you heard over the phone.”
It was much harder than I thought it would be. My emotions kept seesawing between absolute terror and rage at the man who had hurt her.
The lawyer patted me on the back when I was done, so I assumed I helped Zoey’s case.
At three in the morning, Zoey was released on her “own recognizance.” She walked into the lobby, holding ice to her cheek, with a butterfly bandage on her forehead. When she saw me she smiled.
Then she swore, as the cut in her lip opened up and started bleeding again.
I rushed over to hug her, being as gentle as I could. “I was so scared,” I said.
“Me too,” she said. “And then I wasn’t.”
Her lawyer signed some papers and came over to us. “I assume you’re taking Zoey home?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I should learn your court date next week. You stay out of trouble until you appear before the judge and you should be fine. As long as he lives, that is.”
My eyes widened. “He was alive when we left.”
“That’s good,” he said. “Let’s hope he stays that way.”
I drove Zoey to where Zeke was staying. Her friend was delighted to have her come in, even at that hour, and I headed home. She sent me a picture of Zeke sleeping peacefully, and I finally felt like they would be okay.
* * * *
I put aside work and everything about Benson’s murder to begin preparation for the Thanksgiving feast. Any time my brain drifted that way, I brought it back by thinking about Joss and last night. Which led me to Zoey. I’d be nervous about her until she was cleared of any wrongdoing.