More Than a Kiss
Page 20
Amy looked. All she saw was a girl who could have been the anthropomorphic version of Thelma from Scooby Doo. Without the skirt and knee socks. “Different strokes,” she thought.
Edison jogged back to the car and got in. “Apartment number six.” She pressed a hidden button on the dash. There was a whirring sound as a previously hidden moon roof slowly slid open.
“Ooooh,” Isabel intoned like she was watching the Bat Cave open.
“Okay, now had me that scope,” Edison said to Amy.
Among the jumble of mechanical items, Amy had no clue what was a scope and what wasn’t.
“That long tube looking thing,” Edison prompted.
Amy handed it to her. Edison aimed it toward the moon roof and telescoped out until it rose over twenty feet high. She adjusted the swivel head back and forth with knobs until the scope’s line of sight was looking directly into Chad’s apartment. Peering through the end with one eye squinted, Edison said, “Lights are off. Nobody appears to be home.”
Amy resisted saying, “You could’ve just knocked on the door and found out that much.”
Edison ignored her, reeled in the scope and stored it. “Now for step two.”
Edison hopped out of the car, quickly picked up a chunk of broken concrete, took aim and heaved it at the window. Glass shattered inward. Edison jumped back into the car, yelling, “Duck!” They all three crouched down out of sight below the car windows.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Amy whispered like somebody could overhear. “You committed a crime. That’s breaking and entering.”
“Technically we haven’t entered.” Edison said.
“It’s only breaking,” Isabel said and giggled. Edison giggled along with her.
Edison peeked over the dash. “All clear.” She sat up. “Next step.”
“There’s another step?” Amy said.
“Of course. Why do you think we brought the helicopter?” Edison said.
“You’re not serious,” Amy said.
“You’re going to fly it into Chad’s apartment?” Isabel said like an excited little kid.
“Bingo.”
That word was beginning to make Amy nervous.
“Is that even possible?” Isabel said.
“With the right equipment and skills it is,” Edison said. “And I happen to have plenty of both.”
Edison got out of the car, opened the passenger back door and gently extracted the helicopter. She placed it on the hood of the car with its nose pointed toward the apartment building.
Next, Edison got back in the car and pulled a remote control out of her pocket. It looked as innocuous as a Playstation remote control, except it had a small screen attached to it. Edison punched a big red button on the remote. The helicopter buzzed to life. The blades began to spin, faster and faster, until it lifted into the air. Using a thumb toggle to guide the helicopter and the viewing screen to see where it was going, Edison guided the helicopter to the broken window. It hovered a moment before the window and then easily slipped inside the apartment.
Edison punched another button on the remote and a red light came on. “We’re in and recording,” she said.
Amy looked over Edison’s shoulder and peered at the screen. “Why does it look green like that?”
“Night vision scope because all the lights are off,” Edison answered.
Amy stared at the green screen, but couldn’t make out anything other than big dark shapes she took to be furniture. “I can’t see much,” she said.
“I can enhance it when we get back home. I just need the initial information. Okay, one more loop then we’re out of here.”
Edison made a last swoop around the apartment and then with the finesse of a heart surgeon maneuvered the helicopter out of the window and landed it back of the roof of the car. The entire procedure took less than five minutes.
“Wow, that was impressive,” Isabel said. She leaned back in her seat and fanned her face. She was flushed and had a sheen of sweat on her upper lip and forehead. Amy recognized the symptoms. Isabel was either pre-heart attack or post-orgasmic. Amy hoped it was the latter.
Edison quickly stowed the helicopter. When she got back in the car, she leaned over and whispered something in Isabel’s ear. Amy would have thought nothing of it except that Isabel nervously looked at Amy then sat stiffly in her seat facing forward.
“What’s going on?” Amy said. “What did she whisper to you?
“Oh, you know…” Isabel said. “Sweet nothings.”
Edison started the car and backed out of the lot.
“She did not,” Amy said. “She saw something in there you’re hiding from me.”
Neither Isabel nor Edison said a word. “So what did you see?” Amy asked. “Did you see something important, anything that will absolve me in Jordan’s eyes?”
Edison drove in silence. Her jaw clenched and unclenched.
Amy wrung her hands. “Edison?” she said, “Did you see something bad? Something you’re afraid will upset me?”
“Let’s just say I think that Isabel and I should preview the tape first.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say there is an unusual theme going on and I’d like Isabel’s take on it. Will you trust us to do what’s best for you?”
Amy looked out the window. It had started to drizzle and the street lights looked all blurry. Wasn’t there a saying April showers bring May flowers? Well, it was almost June. It had no right to be raining. It was like the weather was mocking her dilemma. Feeling blue? I will make it rain for you. She pondered her predicament. “How bad is so bad you don’t want me to see it?”
More silence, then, “Will you please let me do it my way?”
Amy started to argue, then hesitated. Did she really want to know what a creepy guy Chad was? Did she really want to examine the psyche of a man she’d gone to bed with and find out that he was truly a nut job? Did love do this to him or was he already crazy? Did love make an otherwise sane person crazy? Maybe she should steer clear of the whole thing? What was she going to do if Jordan did dump her? Was she going to go all wacko-stalker-psycho on her?
They drove in silence. They went through three green lights and still there was more silence. Amy couldn’t contain herself any longer. “How bad was it? Bad like there’s small animals crucified on his bedposts bad?” Amy asked.
“No. Not that bad,” Edison said, brightly.
“That’s good to know,” Amy said. Of course, a moment later she realized it was both good and bad. It was good in the sense that Chad hadn’t resorted to mutilating and sacrificing small animals. It was bad in the sense that he might not have hit bottom yet. His mutilating days could still be in front of him. “Yippee,” Amy thought, tiredly. “Yip-fuckin-eee.”
Shrine Amy
Edison led Amy and Isabel back to the third floor lab. They were very quiet, too quiet, Amy thought. Edison hooked up her video and began to download it to her computer. Amy and Isabel watched quietly. When the download was complete, Edison glanced over at Isabel. “You need to take her to the other room while I work on this.”
Amy stood her ground. “No. I have a right to see it. It’s about me.”
“In a few minutes,” Edison said. Isabel took her by the wrist arm and half led, half-dragged her into the next room. “Sit,” she said, and pushed her into a tattered Barcalounger complete with cup holder that had been Duct taped to one arm. “Don’t move. Try to relax. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Isabel patted her on the head and left, shutting the door behind her. Amy sat on tenterhooks. She didn’t know what tenterhooks were exactly but they sounded uncomfortable and she certainly was that.
A few moments later, the door squeaked open and she almost jumped out of her skin. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was only Mr. Pip. He lazily looked her over as he sauntered by.
“You started all this. I hope you realize that,” Amy said.
Mr. Pip swished his tail and gave her a good look as
his ass as he left the room by another door.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, same to you,” Amy said.
Isabel stood in the open doorway. “Who are you talking to?”
“Mr. Pip.”
Isabel looked concerned. She spoke in a voice Amy had heard people use on crazy or old people. “Who’s Mr. Pip? Your imaginary friend?”
“No. He’s the cat.”
Isabel looked around the room. When she didn’t see a cat, she smiled and patted Amy on the arm. “Is he an imaginary cat?”
“Don’t be silly,” Amy said. “He was here. And then he wasn’t.”
“Like the Cheshire Cat?”
“For God’s sake,” Amy said, rising and walking toward the door. “I’m going to get a look at this video.”
Isabel grabbed Amy’s shoulder, stopping her. “I don’t think you should see it.”
“What is on that thing? What has he done? Is it creepy? Should I be afraid?” Amy felt frantic and sick to her stomach. What were they hiding from her?
Isabel took a deep breath. “He has a lot of pictures of you.”
Amy digested this. “That’s not so weird.”
“And by a lot, I mean hundreds.”
“Hundreds of pictures of me?”
Isabel nodded. “Afraid so.”
“My mother doesn’t even have hundreds of pictures of me.” Amy couldn’t imagine where he’d gotten the photos. She sucked in her breath. What if he’d taken pictures of her while she was conked out. “Please tell they weren’t naked ones.”
“No.”
“Okay, well then it isn’t that bad. I want to see the video.”
“Sweetie,” Isabel said. “It’s kind of creepy. You might want to let it go. The video is more than enough to convince Jordan that Chad is the stalker and that you weren’t planning to marry him.”
“I want to see it.” Amy marched into Edison’s lab. She walked straight up to Edison who sat hunched over the computer keyboard and said, “Show me.”
Edison looked at Isabel. Isabel nodded, saying, “Show her.”
Edison clicked a few keys and the video feed started.
Amy thought she was prepared to see the video. She thought she would see an Amy shrine. Maybe a few photos thumb tacked to the wall. Nothing could have prepared her to see every wall, every table, every surface completely papered in her face. Wallpaper, pillows, throw blankets were all decorated with collages of her smiling face. It was worse than the Duck Dynasty line of interior decorating.
Once she got her breath back, she said, “How could he have gotten so many pictures of me?” She pointed at a picture that showed her and Jordan getting in her Smart car. “Did he hire someone to watch me?”
“From what I can ascertain these look like they were taken at work functions,” Edison said, pointing to a cake in the break room in one of the photos. “And these are more I’m-a-creepy-stalker-following-you pictures.”
“He was following me this whole time?”
“Apparently. And here he is taking pics of his handiwork. The signs in the yard. Irma stomping the flaming dog doody. Here’s several of Jordan’s slashed bike tires. And there’s a whole bunch of you all making out.”
Isabel put her arm around Amy’s shoulder. “We’ll put a restraining order on him and send HR at the hospital an anonymous tip with accompanying video. That should get him to leave you alone.”
“I don’t want him to just leave me alone. I want him gone,” Amy said through gritted teeth. She felt violated. Somebody had been watching her in her most private intimate moments. She felt vulnerable and scared. She underscored what she felt with one word. “Gone.”
“Understood,” Edison said. “Do you think you’ll be safe at home tonight?”
Isabel said, “I texted Jeremy. He said Chad is gone from the premises and he’s changing the locks on the doors right now. We’ll take turns keeping watch. We’ll be safe.”
Edison and Isabel talked in hushed tones as they walked to Isabel’s car.
Amy was so stunned by what she’d seen that her mind didn’t seem able to process everything. She felt as if she were walking upstream against a strong current.
Edison opened Isabel’s door for her. Isabel got behind the wheel, started the car and powered down her window.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Edison said.
“I can’t wait,” Isabel whispered breathlessly.
Amy got in the passenger seat and looked up at the house at Jordan’s dark window. “This will all be over with by tomorrow,” she said out loud. But even she could hear the doubt in her own voice.
Elvis Has Left the Building
Amy didn’t hear from Jordan the next day. Or the day after that. She had checked her phone for missed call or texts approximately one hundred and seventy eight times. She had called Edison at least twenty times each day. Edison reassured her that she was still trying to track Jordan and Irma down. But like Edison said, “If Irma wants to go off the grid, there was no way she’d be found.”
Amy was exhausted. Worrying burned up a lot of energy. She barely slept. She worked like she was sleep-walking and drank coffee like a fish. She hadn’t seen Chad since he proposed. He was off work until his hand healed. That was the only good news. However, Amy still couldn’t help but look over her shoulder all the time. She felt like was she was being watched everywhere she went. She even checked the women’s restroom for peep holes before she allowed herself to sit on the toilet.
Veronica, twinless at the moment, rapped lightly on Amy’s door. Amy looked up and smiled. “Come on in.”
Veronica glanced down the hall then back at Amy. “Oh, crap, I’m too late.” She jumped inside the office and slammed the door behind her. “Doesn’t this thing lock?” she said, fiddling with the door.
“No. I put in a maintenance request but no one has showed yet.”
“Oh, holy hell!” Veronica grabbed a chair and wedged it against the door just under the knob. She tested it. “Hey, that really does work.” She appeared surprised and excited that it did.
“What’s going on? Why did you lock us in here?”
“I’m not locking us in. I’m locking him out.”
“Him? Him?” Amy asked excitedly. “Him as in Chad him?”
“Yes. Chad is here. He’s coming,” Veronica ran to the window. “We need an exit strategy.” Veronica shoved up on the window. It didn’t budge.
“Those windows don’t open,” Amy said. “It’s an attempt to lower the suicide rate among doctors.”
There was a pounding on the door. Amy looked at the door and back to Veronica. “Shit,” she mouthed. “Shit shit shit.”
Veronica looked around frantically. The doorknob rattled. “Amy. Are you in there?” Chad’s voice called. “Let me in, I need to talk to you.”
“HR just got through telling him he has to leave you alone. I guess it didn’t make an impression,” Veronica whispered.
“They got the anonymously sent disc?”
Veronica nodded. “He’s been in there talking to them and the hospital administrator, Haroldson. And when the Big H gets involved you know it’s serious.”
“I can hear you,” Chad called out in a sing-song voice. Then he pounded on the door with both fists. The chair wobbled from the force of his blows. Veronica steadied the chair, holding it firmly under the doorknob.
Amy wished she’d never seen The Shining. This was way too much like the “Here’s Johnny” moment. She felt like she was going to throw up.
Chad bellowed, “Damnit Amy, I just want to talk. It’s not what you think. It’s not what they think. This is love. True love! No one understands how much I love you and they’re trying to take you away from me.” He pounded the door and it shook on its hinges.
Veronica looked up at the ceiling. “I’ve got it. Get up on the desk.”
“Why?”
Veronica snapped her fingers at Amy. “Just do it. Now!”
“Amy! I fucking love you!” Chad screamed.
“Am I going up there?” Amy said, pointing to the ceiling.
“That’s right. Push the panel aside. Hoist yourself up. Put the panel back and lay flat on the joist. He’ll never know you’re there.”
“AAAAAAmmmmmmyyyyyy!”
Chad’s out-of-control scream, sent Amy upwards. She scrambled up and into the ceiling as Chad’s voice turned soft and pleading. “Let me in. Amy, please, I love you so much. I understand the mercurial nature of your sexuality and we can work through it. I want us to be together and have little Chaddites and Amyites and live in the suburbs and have barbeques.” His fingernails scratched at the door.
Amy slid the panel back into place, disappearing from view.
“Elvis has left the building,” Veronica said loudly.
“Elvis? Who’s Elvis?” Chad hollered. “Is he vying for Amy’s affection?”
Veronica moved the chair. She flattened herself against a wall and said, “Help me, Chad. The door handle is jammed or something.”
“What?”
“This is Amy. Use your brute strength to rescue me,” Veronica said. “Throw your body against the door! I’m locked in here and suffocating! Help me!”
There was a moment of silence. Then the door burst open and Chad flew into the room, headfirst. He tripped over the chair and sprawled face-down across Amy’s desk. Veronica quickly pulled a syringe out of her pocket, took the cap off with her teeth and poked Chad in the butt with the needle.
He went out like a light.
“Okay, Amy, you can come out now,” she said.
Amy slid back the panel and dropped down to the edge of the desk, then hopped to the floor. She was covered in a white residue and felt like the Pillsbury Dough boy. She hoped it was dust and not some chemical agent that would deform her children and give her cancer by the ripe old age of forty-five.
Veronica held the syringe like it was a smoking pistol.
Amy gazed at the snoring Chad. “What did you give him?”