by Marie Sexton
He went to the door and examined the locks, then checked the french doors into the backyard. He made his way through the house, one room at a time, checking the windows. I felt a little sillier with each one. Nobody could have gotten inside. There was absolutely no way.
“Doesn’t seem like they broke in,” he said at last.
“I know,” I said, feeling stupid. “I probably imagined it—”
“I didn’t say that. If your gut tells you somebody was inside, you should trust it.”
Easy for him to say, but my gut hadn’t led me right in fifteen years.
“Besides,” he added, “you’re not imagining four slashed tires or the phone calls.”
“True,” I conceded with some reluctance.
“I’ll talk to Bob Bolen and Troy Fowler again, but I suspect it’ll be like last time.” He crossed thick arms over his broad chest. “Is there anybody else? Anyone you forgot to mention before?”
“No.”
“Anyone who’s made a threat?”
“No one.”
“Nobody who’s been to your house or knows where you live?”
“N—” But the word died in my throat. I went cold and sank to the couch, my knees shaking, my stomach full of a dark sense of dread. “Oh God.”
“What?” Officer Richards asked, stepping closer. “Who?”
“Oh, Jesus.” I put my head in my hands, thinking. Was it possible? My heart screamed no, but my mind said otherwise. He made more sense than anybody. Still, I found it difficult to say the name. “Dominic Jacobsen.”
Officer Richards pulled the little notebook and pen from his pocket and began writing. “How do you know him?”
“We….” I swallowed hard. The good officer had said to trust my gut, but I had no idea what my gut was saying. I only knew the facts lined up too neatly to ignore. “We met once, fifteen years ago. We had a… well, a sexual encounter, I guess.”
He raised one eyebrow at me. “You guess?”
“We were young.”
His exasperated expression told me he found it a feeble clarification, but he didn’t push it. “So you’ve been dating?”
I shook my head. “Not like that. We bumped into each other a couple of weeks ago. His family owns the garage I took my car to last time it was vandalized.” And then it hit me. “Wait. It can’t be him. The timing’s all wrong. My car was vandalized before he knew I was back in town.”
Matt leveled his eyes at me. “As far as you know.”
“It can’t be him.”
“You started seeing him again after that night?”
“Not ‘seeing him.’ We’ve spent a few evenings together.” And then, realizing I was only digging a deeper hole, “Just hanging out. Nothing else.”
“Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“It didn’t occur to me. We spent one night together when we were seventeen. I never even knew his last name. I had no idea he was still in Coda until that day.”
“He works at Jacobsen’s Auto Repair?”
I nodded.
He pocketed his notebook. “I’ll talk to him.”
“It can’t be him,” I repeated, but my words sounded hollow, even to me.
“Do you have anyplace you can go?”
I heard the words, but they didn’t register. “Excuse me?”
“You shouldn’t stay here. Whoever this guy is, he might have a key to your house, and he might decide to come back. You need someplace you can go where this guy wouldn’t think to look. Is your uncle in town?”
“No.”
“Do you have anyplace else?”
“Dominic’s?”
“No. Not until I’ve ruled him out.”
My heart clenched at the thought of Dominic doing these things to me. Despair gripped my throat. It couldn’t be true, and yet I had no other suspects to suggest. Like it or not, Dominic seemed like the most likely candidate.
“Doesn’t the police department have someplace I could go? Like a safe house?”
He laughed without much humor. “Like I said before, this isn’t exactly Miami Vice. There’s a battered women’s shelter, but I’d have to punch you a few times before I could take you there. There’s the police station, but that isn’t even remotely comfortable. I guess we could check you into the hotel down on Main Street, but…. Wait!” He smacked himself in the forehead. “I should have thought of that sooner.” He held a finger up as he pulled a phone out of his pocket. “Hang on. Let me make a call.”
“Sure.” I sat there, feeling numb, not even bothering to listen in as he had a quick, quiet conversation with whoever was on the other end.
Dominic, my stalker? Dominic, destroying my car and calling me in the night just to rattle me? It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. My brain refused to process the possibility.
“All settled,” Officer Richards said as he pocketed his phone. “I’ll give you a ride, since your car is out of the question.”
We had nothing to say as he drove. I felt like an idiot, needing to be chauffeured around. Officer Richards seemed lost in thought. I noted the silver ring on the third finger of his left hand. I pictured a lovely little wife waiting for him at home. “Where are we going? Your place?”
“No. There’s nobody there during the day, and I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“Then, where?”
He sighed. “Listen, it’s a bit weird. We don’t exactly have a departmental policy on things like this, you know? My boss might be less than thrilled if he knew. But the other option is you sitting at the station drinking really bad coffee and reading a Reader’s Digest from 1982. So I decided to take you to a friend’s house.”
“A friend?”
“Nobody’d think to look for you there. Plus, he’s… perceptive, and he knows just about everybody in town. I’m curious what he has to say about your pal Dominic.”
I turned to stare out the window, not wanting to think about Dom as my tormenter, but unable to dismiss the possibility entirely. “Officer Richards?”
“Call me Matt.”
“Matt.” I had to swallow hard to keep speaking. “It can’t be Dom. I just… I don’t know….” I don’t know what I’ll do if my one and only friend turns out to be my enemy.
“I’ll get it cleared up as soon as I can, I promise.”
HE PULLED up in front of a small house not unlike Dominic’s, although not as well maintained. It wasn’t exactly dumpy, but whoever lived in it hadn’t bothered to make it look like home.
“They’ve been renting this place for ages. I keep telling them to move out and buy something, but they’re stubborn as hell. The more I suggest it, the more they dig in their heels.”
I followed him up the stoop. He opened the screen and knocked on the front door so hard, I half expected it to fall off the hinges. It swung open a mere second later.
“Christ, Matt. I knew you were comin’. You gotta bang down the damn door? Why can’t you just walk in like a normal person?”
“Good morning to you too, sunshine.”
The man holding the door rolled his eyes but stood aside to let us in. I judged him to be in his midtwenties, possibly Native American, with thick, dark hair standing in messy spikes off his head. He was barefoot, wearing only flannel pajama bottoms and a threadbare T-shirt. His eyes fell on me with obvious curiosity.
“Coffee ready?” Matt asked as he led me inside.
“You gonna introduce us, or what?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“In the kitchen?”
“No, smartass. In the damn coat closet.”
I looked back and forth between them, trying to figure out which answers went to which questions. “Come on in,” the man said to me, gesturing toward the living room. “I’m not as scary as Matt looks. You want coffee?”
I felt like I’d barely managed to get my shaking hands under control. “Caffeine’s probably the last thing I need right now.”
“Suit yourself. I’m Ange
lo, by the way. Since Emily Post back there didn’t bother to introduce us.”
He raised his voice on this last sentence so Matt could hear him, and Matt called from the kitchen, “Fuck you.”
Angelo smiled but kept his eyes on me.
“I’m Lamar,” I offered at last, feeling ridiculously self-conscious.
“Nice to meet you.” He didn’t offer his hand, though, so I kept mine in my pockets. “Sit down.” I settled uncomfortably in a worn armchair. He plopped down on the couch, eyeing me as if trying to place me. “You new in town?”
“I moved here in August.”
“That explains it.”
“What?”
“Just that I don’t think I’ve seen you in—”
He stopped short as another man appeared from the hallway, looking sleep-addled. He blinked swollen, red eyes at me, then at Angelo. “What the hell?”
“Matt’s here.”
“I know. I think God heard him knocking.” Matt appeared as if on cue, blowing across a steaming mug of coffee. He ignored the newcomer and came to sit on the only other armchair in the room, directly across from me.
It was Angelo who introduced us. “Zach, this is Lamar.”
Zach didn’t acknowledge the introduction at all. He put his head in his hands and fell onto the couch next to Angelo. “God, how much did I drink last night?”
“You opened a second bottle.”
“Did I finish it?”
“Came close.”
“And you didn’t stop me?”
“Why would I? You were havin’ fun.”
Zach toppled over, letting his head fall in Angelo’s lap. “Please tell me it’s not my day to open.”
“It’s your day to open.”
“Fuck my life. Do I have time for a shower?”
“I already covered your shift for you. That new kid we hired is always beggin’ for more hours.”
“God, I love you,” Zach sighed. And with that, he appeared to fall asleep, his head still in Angelo’s lap.
“Yeah,” Angelo said quietly, brushing Zach’s dark hair with his fingers. “You owe me.”
I still had no idea what they were talking about. It was like everybody in this house spoke shorthand. I was a bit stunned by the entire thing—this couple, so clearly gay, and Matt, just sitting there drinking his coffee. I waited for somebody to remember I was there.
“Ang,” Matt said at last, putting his mug down on the table, “you know anything about a guy named Dominic Jacobsen?”
Angelo looked toward the ceiling as he pondered the name, his fingers still ruffling Zach’s hair. “Dominic. Yeah. Frank’s cousin. Or nephew, maybe. I don’t know. Big family. Hard to keep them all straight, but they own that garage up on Tower Road.”
Matt looked at me. I nodded confirmation. Matt turned back to Angelo. “You got a read on him?”
Angelo frowned. “I don’t know. Seems like a nice guy. Comes in with his daughter sometimes. She likes limeades. He likes vanilla milkshakes, extra thick, no malt. Orders Lego kits through us sometimes, which is cool, ’cause he could probably get ’em off Amazon faster and cheaper, but he says he knows how hard it is to run a local business.” Angelo shrugged. “What exactly you tryin’ to find out?”
“He strike you as a stalker type? Or violent at all?”
“Oh, man. I don’t know.” Angelo shook his head. “I don’t really know the guy.”
“I know. But you have good instincts.”
Angelo looked away, and I had the feeling he was trying to hide how much Matt’s praise pleased him. “I’d be surprised if you told me he did that kind of thing. He doesn’t strike me as the type.” Angelo’s eyes darted to me momentarily, then back to Matt. “What’s going on?”
“Well, I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation—”
“Oh, for fuck sake.” Angelo flipped his hand dismissively at Matt as if swatting away a fly and turned to me. “What’s going on?”
I looked to Matt, who smiled as if he’d known this was going to happen. “You can discuss anything you want,” he said, picking his cup back up. “But you can also tell Angelo to mind his own damn business. I’m just here for the coffee.”
Angelo watched me, waiting, but without any kind of urgency. I had a feeling if I told him I didn’t want to talk about it, he’d shrug and change the subject.
Zach, however, seemed to have woken up enough to take an interest in what was going on. He squirmed into a semi-upright position, although still leaning against Angelo. “Somebody’s stalking you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes,” Matt said.
“Thought you couldn’t talk about it, Matt,” Angelo said without looking away from me. “You think it’s Dominic?”
I wasn’t sure if the question was aimed at me or Matt, but I decided to answer. “No.” I waited for Matt to contradict me, but he took another sip of his coffee instead. I took a deep breath and went on. “Dom and I had a… a thing, I guess. A long time ago.”
“Ha!” Angelo said triumphantly. He elbowed Zach. “I told you! I told you that guy wasn’t completely straight, remember?”
“No.”
“Remember? That day last year? It was a bit before Christmas, and—”
“Ang, I don’t have the faintest idea who you’re talking about. You know I don’t remember stuff like that.” He glanced sideways at Angelo. “But if you’re saying—”
“No. Too close to home.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I didn’t have time to ask before Angelo turned to me. “So you and Dom used to date?”
“No, not really. It was one time. We were kids, and I was only visiting. I lived in Tucson at the time, so I didn’t see him again for fifteen years. Not until three weeks ago.”
Angelo turned to Matt. “So, you think Dominic’s stalking him?”
Matt shrugged, turning his mug in slow circles on the table. “I think it’s a possibility that needs to be checked. And until I can do that, I need Lamar to be someplace Dominic—or whoever the stalker is—wouldn’t think to look.”
“No problem,” Angelo said. He turned back to me. “Stay as long as you need to. Once Zach wakes up, he’ll make us breakfast—”
“I will?”
“Sure. And then we’ll order pizza for lunch. It’ll be fun.”
Zach looked sideways at Angelo again, nudging him in the thigh. “No,” Angelo said, more emphatically this time. “Too close to home.”
I looked at Matt for explanation. He frowned and shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “You don’t want to know.” Then he glanced at Zach and Angelo. A slow, red flush began to creep up his neck. “Or maybe you do,” he said, half under his breath. “Hell, I don’t know.”
“Speaking of ‘close to home,’” Angelo said, now addressing Matt. “Know how I knew Dominic wasn’t completely straight?”
“If you say ‘gaydar,’ I’ll never speak to you again.”
“Because I caught him checkin’ out Jared.”
Matt sat up straight, like a dog pricking his ears toward a suspicious noise. “What?”
“Yeah, man. They were both in the shop, and Dominic was with his daughter, so I think he was tryin’ to be subtle, but he was definitely scopin’ Jared. Like, really admirin’ his ass, you know?”
Matt made a low noise, almost like a growl. “And where was I?”
“I don’t know. Workin’? Anyway, even if you were there, not like I’m gonna let you make a big scene. And after all, he was only lookin’. It’s not like the rest of us don’t check out Jared’s ass. Especially when he bends over. All that bike ridin’ he does really pays off. The way his thighs—”
“Watch it!”
“Well, anyway, Dominic was definitely into him.”
Matt stood up, looking for all the world like he was about to throw something at Angelo. Angelo beamed at him.
“I’ll let you know what I find out,” Matt said to me, still glaring at Angelo.
�
��Thanks.”
Zach waited until the door slammed behind Matt, then laughed. “You’re cruel,” he said to Angelo.
“I can’t help it. I love to watch him get all worked up.”
“I love to watch you get all worked up.”
“Stop,” Angelo laughed. “You’re embarrassing Lamar.”
Zach threw me an apologetic grin, but spoke to Angelo. “You’re going to owe this Dominic guy an apology.”
Angelo shrugged, turning to appraise me with dark eyes. “Not if he ends up being the bad guy.”
I sat there, feeling incredibly awkward. I didn’t know these men at all, and they were both staring right at me, scrutinizing me, as if they were sizing me up. Angelo looked thoughtful. Zach, outright curious. Finally, he threw Angelo one more sidelong glance, a suggestive grin on his face.
“You sure?” he asked quietly.
Angelo laughed, shaking his head as he stood, dislodging Zach from his place on the couch. “You go take a cold shower,” he said, ruffling Zach’s hair. “I’ll make breakfast.”
I FELT stupid sitting alone in their living room, so I opted instead to follow Angelo into the kitchen. He started pulling eggs and bacon and milk from the fridge. “I ain’t exactly Cole, but I promise I won’t poison you or anything.”
I didn’t know what he meant, but I let it go. “As long as I’m not the one doing the cooking, you won’t hear any complaints from me.”
The unmistakable sound of the shower turning on reached us through the walls.
“What exactly was all that about?” I asked. “That ‘too close to home’ stuff?”
Angelo might have blushed, although it was hard to tell with his dark skin. “Zach and I, we’re….”
“A couple.”
“Yeah.”
I checked his left hand, caught the glint of gold and silver there. “Married?”
He smiled. It was easily the sweetest, least-sarcastic look I’d seen on his face since walking in the door. “Yes.”
“So?”
“I don’t want to freak you out.”
“Unless he’s the one stalking me, I doubt it’ll be an issue.”
He sighed and cracked an egg into a bowl. “We’re not completely monogamous, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh.” I had to think about it for a second—those questioning glances from Zach to Angelo, and Angelo’s emphatic no—and then I felt myself blush too.