Stranger in My Arms

by Madeline Harper

  “Then we have no evidence,” Delansky said, snapping his notebook shut.

  Kasey looked hopelessly at Will, who shrugged. He’d known this was coming, and he wasn’t surprised.

  “We’ll run a check on this Carl Dandridge whom you said threatened you,” Hererra said. “Is there anyone else who may have it in for you, Ms. Halliday?”

  “No. Absolutely not.” Kasey caught herself. “Except for the redheaded woman—”

  Will noticed that Delansky stopped midyawn and looked interested. “Tell me about her.”

  “I don’t know anything about her, really. She didn’t actually threaten me. But she did cause a scene in the restaurant.”

  Will shook his head hopelessly as the officers glanced at each other with skepticism. They weren’t buying the redheaded woman story, either.

  “It’s not really much to go on,” Hererra said softly. “And I imagine people have caused scenes in the restaurant before, haven’t they?” she asked Kasey.

  “Well, yes, of course. But this was different. Somehow.”

  Will felt sorry for Kasey. She’d put her hopes in the police, and, frankly, she didn’t have much to give them. That was his fault, too, of course. It seemed as if he’d done nothing but make wrong decisions ever since this nightmare began. Now his decisions had affected Kasey.

  “Like I said, we don’t have a lot to go on,” Hererra told them. “There are probably a million redheads in this city.”

  “That’s not all,” Kasey said. “There was an incident at the subway. Someone pushed me—”

  “Did you see the person?” Hererra asked. Delansky didn’t even appear to be listening at this point.

  Kasey shook her head.

  “Well, it was probably an accident. Those platforms get very crowded,” Hererra said.

  Kasey felt her shoulders sag. “Well, I—wait a minute, there’s one more thing. I just remembered. The car!”

  “What car?” Will asked.

  “The one that almost hit me. A dark car, no lights, whizzing around the corner.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about that?” Will scolded.

  “You weren’t around. Besides, everyone kept saying it was an accident, reminding me that it’s hard to go out and not be run over in New York.”

  “They’re right,” Hererra agreed. “We deal with hit-and-run cases all the time. Especially—”

  Delansky interrupted his partner. “Let’s forget about all the accidents and move on. How did the alleged perpetrator gain entrance to your apartment? Have you given your keys to anyone?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Kasey answered. “The super has a set to all the apartments.”

  “We’ll check him out,” Delansky said.

  “It’s really not necessary,” Kasey replied.

  Will could see that she was getting defensive, and he applauded her silently.

  “I’m sure the stalker got in through the doors on my balcony. I must have left them unlocked. When I came home, they were open.”

  “Well, it’s hard to tell much about them now, isn’t it?” Delansky asked with a glance at the shattered door-frame and broken glass. “Mr. Mastane really did a job on them.”

  “I had no choice,” Will defended. “I heard her scream. I thought she was in danger.”

  “So you crossed over from your balcony and broke the doors in. Just as you could have come across earlier and written the message on Ms. Halliday’s mirror,” Delansky commented.

  “But he didn’t!” Kasey retorted.

  “Who lives on the other side?”

  “Mrs. Janek. She’s wheelchair-bound,” Kasey answered.

  “That brings us back to you,” Delansky said, looking at Will.

  “Oh, please!” Kasey said irritably.

  Will sensed Kasey’s frustration and spoke for her. “The bottom line is that I’m being stalked—and Ms. Halliday’s been threatened. And not by me,” he added emphatically.

  “We’ll check it out,” Delansky said. “If someone wrote those words on the mirror, she—or he—could have gotten in anywhere on this floor. It could be any one of your neighbors or someone entering through their apartments.” Delansky put away his notebook, but Will noticed he hadn’t written in it since he’d concluded there was no evidence.

  “And if you were stalked,” Delansky said to Will, “the Connecticut police will give us that information.”

  “They don’t have anything more than I’ve told you,” Will said scornfully. With that, the two officers shot each other a final look, and as if on signal, got up to go.

  “Oh, Mr. Mastane, I wanted to say—”

  “Yes, Officer Hererra?”

  “I really enjoyed your television series last season. ‘The Lawson Family Diaries’ was one of my favorites.”

  “Thanks,” Will replied curtly. He’d hoped to hear something about the case, something that mattered.

  “I don’t remember him in ‘Diaries,’” Delansky said as he walked toward the door with his partner.

  “He wasn’t in it. He wrote it,” Hererra replied.

  The police officers left, leaving Will and Kasey sitting in the living room, facing each other.

  “I didn’t realize you were famous.” Kasey’s tone wasn’t pleasant or even interested. She was angry, Will realized, with the police and probably with him, too.

  “I’m not famous,” he responded.

  She ignored his disclaimer and went on. “They didn’t believe us. Did you hear what he said? If I were harassed. If you were stalked.”

  “They’ll find out that we’re not lying. I’m just afraid they won’t get the connection. And I know there is one.”

  “Then why didn’t you think of it sooner?” she snapped. “Didn’t it dawn on you when I got pushed in front of the subway train that this crazy woman might be behind it?”

  Will tried to keep his cool. In a way, she was right, but it didn’t seem as if she was ever going to understand what he’d been through. “It didn’t occur to me, Kasey. I’d been in New York for some time with no contact from her. It’s not her style to wait. If she’d been around, I’d have known.”

  “But she was around,” Kasey retorted. “She could have been driving the car that almost hit me that night. Where were you, anyway?”

  “I drove to Connecticut to talk to the police, hoping they had some new information. But they didn’t. No surprise.” He ran his fingers through his tousled hair. “But unlike the New York police, at least they believe she exists. Unfortunately, I don’t know much more except that this type of person is never predictable.” He stood up and started pacing again.

  He reminded Kasey of a caged animal, just as he had the first day she saw him.

  “Maybe that unpredictability is what kept me from telling you everything. I made a choice. We may never know whether it was the right one or not.”

  She considered that. “When I think of the times I defended you to Judy, swore you weren’t hiding anything—”

  “If I had told you, what would you have done?” he asked.

  “I would have understood!” She stood up, too, facing him. “I would have kept your secret. You didn’t have the guts to trust me, Will. Now it’s all come back to haunt us.”

  “This is all about hindsight, Kasey. You think you would have understood? If I’d told you in the beginning that a crazy woman was after me, you’d have run, not walked, to the nearest door. Hell, I tried to warn you a hundred ways. I tried to tell you to back off—”

  “And I kept right on coming, didn’t I?” she asked. “Because I couldn’t help myself, Will. I cared too much.” The words were wrenched from her.

  He quickly moved to her side and grabbed her by the shoulders. “And so did I. I cared too much to—” There was a knock on the door. “Who the hell is that?”

  Kasey started toward the hall, but he stopped her. “Let me get it.”

  She stepped aside and let him pass, aware that for now, at least, she was glad he was with her. Wh
oever was at the door, she didn’t want to deal with it. She went back and collapsed on the sofa, staring at the broken doors, wondering what she was going to tell Tim about the commotion. Then she remembered. The police would tell him. In fact, they probably already had.

  Will came back into the room. “The cops have completed their so-called investigation. Want to hear the results?”

  “Why not.”

  “The couple across the hall was home all evening watching TV. They saw nothing. Heard nothing. Your friend Glenna was entertaining a guy. She saw nothing. Heard nothing. Same for everyone else on the floor. Your Mrs. Janek—”

  “She’s not my Mrs. Janek,” Kasey said.

  “Well, she was asleep. There’s an empty apartment on this floor. They’ll check with the super to see if he gave out the keys to anyone.”

  “That’s it? That’s all they’re doing?”

  “It’s more than I expected, to tell you the truth,” Will replied. “Oh, they’ll check out the guy from your restaurant and follow up in Connecticut, so they say. Basically, they’re writing it off as a prank.”

  “What a mess,” Kasey said. “After all that’s happened, they think someone’s playing a joke on me.”

  “Well, Delansky probably thinks it’s me. Or that Spiderman climbed down from the penthouse. Hell, Kasey, we’re on our own. Why don’t you get your things and come to my place for the night? We still need to talk.”

  Kasey sat up straight. “No way. Forget it.”

  “Kasey, after all that’s happened, I’m not going to let any harm come to you. Ever. And you can’t sleep here,” he told her. “Not with broken doors. I’ll call the super and ask him to get someone over here to repair it tomorrow while you’re at work.”

  “Meanwhile, I’ll go to Glenna’s—”

  “She has company, remember? Come to my place, Kasey. It’s the only sensible thing to do. Unless you share Delansky’s view. Unless you’re afraid of me.”

  She met his eyes evenly. “No, Will, I’m not afraid of you, but I’m still angry. I need some time—and space.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll sleep on the sofa. Come on, Kasey,” he urged more gently. “You’re exhausted.”

  * * *

  AFTER AN ARGUMENT about who would sleep where, Kasey gave in and took the bed. It was a strange experience, she mused, being alone in Will’s bed when only hours before they’d shared it, wrapped in each other’s arms.

  Only then she hadn’t known who he was. Now she did, and according to Officer Hererra, he was something of a celebrity. Kasey wasn’t impressed. Famous writer or not, how dare he play games with her that way?

  Maybe he was just trying to protect her, Kasey’s subconscious whispered. Maybe he didn’t trust easily. Kasey turned restlessly, from one side to the other. Obviously, trust wasn’t a problem with her; she trusted far too easily. But if she hadn’t been trusting, she never would have met him! It was so complex. Everything in her life seemed contradictory and confusing.

  She couldn’t sleep. After half an hour, she sat up on the edge of the bed. It was pointless to lie here fretting, she decided. She got up. Opening the door, she was surprised to see a light from the living room.

  Will was sitting at his computer, deep in thought.

  “I couldn’t sleep, either,” she said softly to avoid startling him.

  He turned to look at her. His face was tired, haggard. “Would you like a drink? Wine?”

  “No, nothing.” She wandered to the balcony doors. “So many people in this city... We’ll never find her, the police will never find her.”

  His voice was grim. “But she can find us. And she already has.”

  “Is—erotomania—serious?” Kasey sat on the arm of the sofa. “You’ve read all about it. Is it a disease that...I mean, do you think she’d...kill someone?”

  Will pushed away from his desk and leaned back in his chair. He clasped his hands behind his neck and stared at the ceiling thoughtfully. “I really can’t answer that, Kasey, based on my reading.”

  “But you have an opinion.” She was a little afraid of the response.

  “Most of these people are bright, functioning individuals who hold down a job and appear completely normal,” he told her.

  “Except toward the person they’re stalking.”

  “Right. Then they can lose sight of reality. I told you that she considered my rejection of her as a test of loyalty. Well, there’s more. They sometimes believe that the object of their love is sending secret signals.”

  “Like appearing on TV?”

  “Yes. And even worse, I was wearing a crazy looking T-shirt that couldn’t be missed. She might have seen me wearing it before. It was a mistake to wear it, but I hadn’t planned to be on television. She probably took that as a sign of my hidden affection. And seeing you with me—”

  “Now she hates me because I’ve taken you away from her. And she could try to harm me, couldn’t she?”

  “She’s not going to,” he said quickly. “I meant what I said before, Kasey, I won’t let that happen. You mean too much to me.” He put his hand on her knee. Her robe had fallen open, and he stroked the filmy material of her nightgown. “You know how I feel about you—”

  “Don’t, Will,” she said, moving away.

  “Can’t we talk about this, about us?”

  Kasey stood up. “Not now. I can’t talk about us yet.”

  “Then tomorrow. When you get back from work.”

  “All right. I promise. Now I’m going to try to sleep.” She walked away and then turned back, pausing at the door. “Will, the man who waved at you in the park—you knew him, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, I worked with him on a TV special.”

  And you lied again, Kasey thought. She gave him a sad little smile. “See you in the morning, Will.”

  10

  WILL AWOKE before Kasey and decided to let her sleep. He knew she was exhausted. He hadn’t slept that well, either, having spent most of the night thinking about how he had botched up his life. There had to be a way to make everything right again.

  He went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. When he heard Kasey stir, he decided to take a stab at cooking breakfast. He opened the refrigerator door and surveyed the possibilities. Eggs. That was about it. He took them out and looked in the freezer to discover a can of orange juice and a package of English muffins. He dropped the can of juice into a bowl, filled it with hot water, broke off a couple of muffins and put them in the microwave to defrost.

  He was a pretty good cook when he took the time, but there had been too many other things on Will’s mind this summer. At least he could fix breakfast for Kasey, he decided, as he transferred the muffins to the toaster oven.

  “Butter,” he said aloud, opening the fridge hopefully. There it was, untouched, still in the store wrapping. He buttered the muffins liberally, put them back in the toaster oven, and by the time Kasey came into the kitchen, her hair damp and her face scrubbed shiny clean, he was making an omelet.

  “I hope you’ll stay for breakfast. The coffee’s ready.” He saw her hesitate and urged, “Come on, Kasey, test my culinary skills.”

  “I didn’t know you could cook.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know,” he told her.

  “That’s the truth.”

  Damn. He’d walked right into that one. “A lot of good things, Kasey. Like the summer I spent in France. That’s where I learned to make a mean omelet. Try it, won’t you?”

  “All right,” she said as she filled a mug with coffee and leaned against the counter. “So you’re a world traveler.”

  “Not the whole world, but a lot of it. I told you that when we had our picnic in the park.”

  Another wrong move, he realized when he saw the look on Kasey’s face. “Juice?”

  Kasey nodded.

  Will kept the conversation going as he mixed the juice in a pitcher. “After the sale of my first TV movie, I went to Europe for a while. I was divorced by then a
nd on my own, so I traveled and just hung out with no real agenda. The second script hit and then the third. I took a trip to the Orient. It was a kind of reward for myself.”

  “None of that sounds like a state secret,” Kasey said bitterly. “You could have shared it with me earlier.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. I haven’t been thinking straight, Kasey.” Her face was still wary. He wondered what the hell she was thinking.

  “What about the other things you told me, about being an only child—” She sounded angry and suspicious.

  “All true. My parents are retired and living in Vermont. My ex-wife is in Boston, happily remarried. We got divorced about six years ago when I was twenty-five and still a struggling writer. She wanted me to give up and get what she called a ‘real job,’ but I was committed to risking it as a writer. She didn’t want to struggle with me and I don’t blame her. I was still a couple of years away from success—and it might not have come at all. The divorce worked out for both of us.”

  Kasey started to comment, but he wasn’t finished. “If I’d told you more about her and the divorce, we’d have gotten into my writing. From there, it wouldn’t have taken you long to ask why I was in New York, hiding out.”

  Before she could confront him again, Will offered quickly, “How about breakfast outside? There are English muffins in the toaster oven and the orange juice is poured.”

  When she didn’t object, he filled their plates and led the way to the balcony. There was something else he had to say, but it wasn’t time yet. He wanted to enjoy breakfast first.

  Even this early in the morning, the heat was oppressive. A gray haze hung over the city like a pall. They ate in silence. When they’d finished, Kasey looked across the table at Will. “The omelet was lovely. Thanks.”

  He nodded.

  “It’s not a very lovely day, though.”

  Will took a sip of coffee and put down his cup. “I don’t give a damn about the omelet or the weather, Kasey. What I do care about is you. And whether or not you want to hear this, I have to say it. Now.”

  Before she could reply, he went on. “I’ve been thinking about it all night.” He looked at her steadily. “Kasey Halliday, you’re the most important person in my life. I wish to hell I hadn’t lied to you. I wish I’d given you a chance to decide for yourself how you felt about the whole scenario. But I didn’t and—”