by Craig, Susan
It had been nearly an hour since the humvee returned and Smith led Sally by the hand into her house. The light from the living room still streamed into the front yard, and the bedroom windows remained dark. Jim clung to those two small facts, pretending they had meaning. Pretending. That’s all it was, but he couldn’t seem to let go of it.
He tortured himself with visions of the two of them together: Smith’s hands on her body, Smith’s lips against her skin. And Sally…no. He couldn’t go there.
His chest hurt, his stomach burned, and fiery bands strangled his throat. Damn it all, Sally, why can’t you love me?
A change in the light outdoors caught his attention. He blinked. Blinked rapidly a few times more and stared out the window. The living room light was out. A dim light shone through the bedroom curtains. Then it went out and the house was dark.
With eyes that stung, he stared at the Hummer parked in the moonlight. His head dropped into his hands. Can’t even pretend anymore. The minutes ticked by… Five, then six, but Jim stayed motionless, sightless, unaware.
An engine roared in the silence. Jim’s head jerked upright. A tiny bubble of hope lifted his heart as he watched Smith’s Hummer drive off into the night.
It didn’t make any sense to feel better. There’d been plenty of time earlier for all he’d imagined and more. But Smith was gone. At least I’m not totally unneccessary. Refusing to think about the rest, Jim got fresh coffee and once again took up his vigil.
Light crept past the draperies in Sally’s living room. Finally. She’d stuck it out and now she could get up. Not that she’d ever actually gone to bed.
Pushing back the afghan covering her, she rolled off the couch. Her head felt like someone had stuffed it with pennies that slid around each time she moved. Thank God, the nervousness that had plagued her diminished as daylight grew. She raised her hand, staring at the creases left on it by the cellphone she had clutched all night. Pathetic. She groped her way into the bathroom, set the cellphone on the counter, and locked the door. Running the shower to get it hot, she removed her jeans and the tee shirt she had slipped on in place of her good sweater.
The scent of her lilac soap soothed her aching head. I jumped at every creak and groan the house made, all night long. Maybe I need a gun.
Dumb idea. She’d never have a gun in the house with Tyler around. She wouldn’t know how to use one anyhow. She was just going to have to get used to staying alone again.
Stalker or not, she would not be driven from her home. There were locks on the doors and windows. She was safe. And she did not need Jim for protection. She’d been jittery last night. It would go away. She pulled her robe off the door and belted it tightly before she left the bathroom to grab clothes.
Jim. She wanted him—him specifically. After last night it was useless to try to deny that. She returned to the bathroom with fresh clothes and locked the door again before beginning to dress. She could drive into town, get some breakfast and hit the twenty-four/seven discount store. She wanted people and an escape from the tension that had kept her awake all night.
The problem of wanting Jim could be solved. All she had to do was convince him that love was a bad idea—that they could stay friends and add a sexual component to their friendship. Friendly sex wasn’t unheard of. She was sure she could make him see reason—if he ever got over being angry with her. Grabbing her van keys off the dresser, she headed out the front door.
Wait—house key. She found it in the bathroom, in the jeans she’d slept in, in the pocket where Daniel had tucked it. The warmth of embarrassment rose to her face again. She’d been so foolish, and damn lucky she’d been right about Daniel.
Jim, why can’t you be sensible about this? It could be so simple.
It would be so simple if he could just walk away.
Jim sighed and ran a hand up his forehead and over his hair as he watched Sally drive off. I’m a hopeless idiot.
Time for him to get back to his truck and get gone. He was lucky that Sally’d left early. It made getting out of here easier. He wouldn’t want her to catch him watching her house. There was no way she’d understand—she’d think he’d been spying on her. As if I’d ever choose to see what I saw last night.
His stomach, already acid-riddled by a night of caffeine, rolled in protest at the memory. Ignoring the discomfort, he checked that he’d left no telltale sign of his presence. The coffee maker was clean and dry, the chairs back in place, and he had his laptop and binoculars.
As he locked the entry door, he gave himself another kick in the heart. She hadn’t lied to him, dammit. She wasn’t interested in love.
His heart, bruised and aching from being pounded on all night, absorbed the blow and the pain. It’s my own damn fault, waiting around like a fool for three years…Letting myself fall in love with her…looking for fairy-tale endings. What the hell was I thinking? It’s time to throw in the towel, Donovan. Admit it. You’ve lost. What I told Demarco was true. It’s over.
The cold air eased the pounding in his brain as he walked across the meadow to his truck. What was that on the hood? Had Demarco given him a ticket? It was perfectly legal to park in that turnoff. Angry, Jim broke into a jog, but stopped dead five yards from the truck.
It wasn’t a ticket. The paper on the windshield was folded, one edge rough where it had been torn from a spiral notebook. Step by step, Jim walked toward the truck, eyes alert for any sign of danger. He unfolded the note.
‘Bang. You’re dead. Better back off, Donovan.’
Oh, hell. It wasn’t over yet. He walked away from the truck, sat on the ground with his back against a tree, and called the police. He sighed in resignation. By the time the police had checked the truck, there’d be no time to go home and sleep before work. And he knew, no matter how things stood with Sally, he’d be back to watch the house again tonight.
He leaned his head back and shut his eyes. He had time to catch a nap before an officer would arrive.
chapter thirteen
Sally sat inside the fast food restaurant at the seven day, twenty-four hour discount store, sipping a fat-free latte. She wasn’t ready to pick up Tyler, and she didn’t want to go home. But I have to work on that paper—my degree is on the line.
She picked up her cell phone and called Diana. “Hey, would you mind keeping Tyler till this afternoon so I can go over to the shelter and work on my Economics paper for a while?”
“No problem. How are you this morning?”
“Let’s talk about that later—when I pick Tyler up, okay?”
“Hmmm. Okay, face to face. Call before you come—if I’m out and about I might drop him by and save you the trip.”
“Right, thanks.”
Logistics handled, Sally left the restaurant and turned her van toward the shelter. Nancy was running things today, so she could work on her paper undisturbed in the back office. Pulling into the lot at Man’s Best Friend, she gathered her notes from Friday’s trip to the library and went inside.
As she entered the lobby, Sally realized she had taken a stack of papers home on Thursday. They were sitting on her bureau in the bedroom, and she needed them here, now. She should run home and grab them, but she really didn’t want to do that alone. So I’m a wimp. I just don’t want to deal with anything more right now.
She stopped walking. Those papers were essential for her to make any progress with the paper. Nancy Attenborough looked up from the health report forms she was filing. “Sally! I thought you were taking the whole day off today.”
“I am, if that’s still okay with you. I want to hide in the back office and work on my paper for a few uninterrupted hours. Who’s here today?”
“Only Ginny and Jamal right now.”
“Excellent. Where’s Ginny?” Ginny could be the answer to her dilemma. She was here when Sally called the police on Tuesday. She knew what was going on and, even better, would keep it to herself.
“She’s taking a family around to look at dogs. They’re out bac
k.”
“Thanks.” Sally dumped her papers on the tired oak desk in the back office and headed down the hallway toward the door leading to the paddocks. She met the youthful-looking brunette leading an older man and woman back into the shelter. They had Barney, a laid-back medium-size dog—mixed breed with a poodle like coat—on leash, and were talking to him as they walked. Good match. “Ginny, after you take them to Nancy, could you give me a hand for a minute?”
Ginny’s eyebrows rose. “Okay. Be back in a flash.”
Before Sally had settled at the desk, Ginny returned, looking curious. “What can I do for you?”
Sally grimaced. “I have to pick up some papers from the house and I don’t want to go there alone. Do you mind?”
Ginny’s brows drew together, then relaxed. “No, I’ll come with you. I’m all set.” She gestured at her coat.
“Great. Thanks. Mine’s in the entryway.” Sally rose and led the way.
Once they were out of the building, Ginny spoke. “Have they had any luck identifying the person who sent that note?”
“No, not yet,” said Sally, and changed the subject. She didn’t want to discuss details with Ginny.
Ginny didn’t push, and they chatted amiably about trivia as they trudged across the meadow to Sally’s side door. She pulled out her key and shoved it into the lock, causing the door to drift open.
Her heart rate shot up, and her body went from warm to cold all in an instant. He’s been here.
No. Settle down. It’s not the first time this latch has failed to catch.
Had that door been unlocked all last night? She didn’t think so. She’d checked it while waiting for Daniel to arrive. She took a deep breath and let it out in a frosty cloud. “I can’t believe I didn’t lock the door properly.”
Ginny cocked one well-manicured eyebrow. “Neither can I. Maybe you should call the police.”
“No. It might be nothing but a dumb mistake on my part. How about we both punch in 911 on our cell phones, and keep a finger on the call button. You stay here, inside the kitchen, and I’ll check the rest of the house. If anyone’s here we’ll call for help, and you can run back to the shelter to get the others if we need to. Okay? I really don’t think there’ll be a problem.” Sally peered into the living room. “Everything looks fine from here.”
“Well, okay. But be careful.”
Her heart pounding…
Adrenaline is good. Makes you ready to run.
…Sally swung to the right, checking the kitchen pantry, the living room, the entryway. Circling back to the hallway, past the dining area, she stuck her head through the doorway at the far end of the kitchen and gave Ginny a thumbs-up. Then she moved swiftly down the hallway, checking each room and closet.
Her heart rate began the drop back to normal. “All clear,” she called. “I must have missed noticing the door, somehow.”
Stepping back into her bedroom, Sally lifted the stack of papers from the bureau and rejoined Ginny outside. “I hate being scared to walk into my own house!”
Ginny nodded. “I know, but better safe than sorry.” She took the armful of research and watched Sally double check the lock.
“Well, it’s shut tight now. Let’s go.” And taking her precious papers back, Sally led the way across the meadow, fielding Ginny’s polite questions about her Economics topic.
It seemed to Sally that only moments later Nancy was knocking on the study door to ask if she wanted some food—Sam Mitchell, a student at Penn State and biweekly volunteer, had called and offered to pick something up on his way to the shelter. Sally realized she was hungry. “How about Italian?” Like everyone else, she knew what Sam enjoyed most on the volunteers’ traditional fast food weekends.
“That’s two votes for pizza.” Nancy shut the door and moved on.
Sally stretched and smiled. Finally, she had made some progress. The morning had flown by. Her outline and introduction were complete. It was time to start filling in details and (yech) footnotes. Sally eyed the two-inch stack of research. She bet if she pushed, she could get through a lot of it before the pizza arrived. She picked up the paper-clipped pages from the copier at the library and stopped—staring at the ragged edge of the folded paper beneath.
Her skin crawled with revulsion. She wanted to throw up.
He had been in her house—in her bedroom.
She didn’t want to touch the note, or look at it, or know what it said. She just wanted it not to be there.
She lifted her hands to her neck, fingers pressing into the muscles already knotting at the base of her head, and moaned. “Aw shit. Not again” Where could she go, what could she do to get away from this? Refusing to even touch the note, she called the police.
Officer Billings read the note again, through the clear plastic of the evidence bag.
‘Do you think you can hide from me, Sally? I saw you with Donovan in the trees by the creek. I saw you at the library. I see your shame as you read this and know that your wantonness is no longer hidden. When the time is right, retribution will come.’
He rubbed a hand behind his neck. “Looks like he’s trying to gaslight you, Mrs. Johnston. There’s no way he could have known when you would read that note—or where.”
Sally looked at the kitchen clock. It was already after three. When Officer Billings arrived, he had checked her back door for signs of forced entry and found none. Then, at her request, he’d unscrewed the heating vents in her bedroom wall and in the bathroom, to be sure no video or recording devices had been hidden in them. To her relief, there were none.
The officer told her the stalker either had a key to her house or had used a credit card. Either possibility was unnerving—before today she had always felt her home was secure. Now she would have to get the locks changed and have dead bolts installed.
“He didn’t plant any cameras, or electronic bugs, and he got into the house the easy way. Apparently your stalker is either old-fashioned or on a tight budget,” said Officer Billings. He seemed to find his comment amusing, and looked at Sally as if expecting her to laugh or smile.
She did not.
He looked away. “You won’t be staying here tonight, will you? You should probably go stay with friends.”
“I will be staying here. I won’t let whoever is doing these things upend my life. And I don’t want my son to find out about it and worry. But, I won’t be here alone. I have a friend who will stay with us.” I hope.
“Well, that might be all right. You should be careful not to be alone, just in case. But you do realize your son will have to know sooner or later, don’t you?”
“I plan on him knowing later. As much later as possible. After this is all over would be best.”
Billings shook his graying head. “Ma’am, if you think this person will be quick and easy to catch, I’m afraid I have to tell you different. We haven’t found a single print we couldn’t account for, and the lists we’ve been working with… people we know were at Dragon King the night you got that note, people you work with, people in your husband’s former unit… none of those has had anybody on it who looks more likely than the rest. Unless this guy makes a mistake, we may never catch him. If I were you, I’d start preparing the boy for the news.”
Her brain refused to accept what he was saying. ‘Never catch him…’ No, that couldn’t be.
He put his heavy jacket back on over his blues. “There’s no one with you now. Can I offer you a ride back to the shelter where there are people around?”
Sally came out of her daze to look at him blankly for a moment. Then her brain caught up. “Oh, yeah, thanks. That would be fine…”
She had to give Nancy and the volunteers some explanation for the arrival of the police, and attempted burglary seemed the simplest. Ginny surely guessed the truth, but she didn’t say anything, and Sally felt the matter was contained once again. Each time, though, it became harder to hide what was going on. She was beginning to worry that soon it would all come out. It was bad en
ough that she was being stalked, but having to deal with the pity—and the questions—of everyone at the shelter was about as appealing as having the mange.
She called the locksmith and set up an appointment for him to come out tomorrow. Getting any further with her paper was impossible. Her brain kept running from one extreme to the next.
She wanted so much to talk to Jim; she needed to avoid him.
Jim said he loved her; she didn’t want to love anybody. But… she wanted him so badly. And she needed the safety and security he offered.
It’s such a mess.
She heard Diana’s cheerful voice in the hallway.
Yes!
Talking to Diana would help. As she began to rise from her desk, Tyler threw open the door and burst into the room, followed by Diana.
“Hi, Mom! We went hiking, and we scared a deer, and we saw a beaver dam, and Logan and I found deer tracks by the pond. They were in the mud.” Face flushed with fresh air and excitement, he beamed at her.
“That sounds completely awesome, honey.” She pulled him close for a quick hug. “Look, I need to talk to Diana and work on my paper now. Why don’t you go find Jamal and help him with whatever he’s doing?”
Mentally, she apologized to Jamal for interrupting his work, though the two boys (sorry, Jamal) got along well and Jamal would probably enjoy having Tyler around.
Accepting the idea with enthusiasm, Tyler left the room, and Sally was free to drop her mom-demeanor. She tightened her lips and glanced up at Diana.
“Can you stay for a little bit?”
Diana sat in a chair by the desk and unbuttoned her coat “Sure. What’s wrong?”
“There was another note—in my bedroom, with the notes for my paper. He got into my house.” She shuddered.
“What did Jim say?” Diana asked.