by Adele Huxley
I nearly lunged for a mop that stood on its handle upside down, but quickly caught myself. I released a nervous laugh, finally secure enough that I was alone in the locker room. Unless they’ve been moving around behind you without you knowing, a nasty little voice said in the back of my mind.
“Fuck that,” I said to myself, slamming the door shut. Even if someone was following me around, I hated that I’d given them any satisfaction by my little display.
Returning to the bag, I ignored the letter. I dressed deliberately, my jaw set and mind firm. I loathed the fact that I’d allowed myself to get so riled up, but I couldn’t stop shaking. Fear or adrenaline, I couldn’t tell which, was causing me to tremble so badly. I resolved to keep as much control as I could. I toweled down my hair and pulled it back into a tight bun. After shimmying into a pair of skinny jeans and a purple sweater, I zipped everything up and looked to the letter on the floor.
I nearly left it but realized it was just more evidence I could take to the police to bring Nicole to justice. I really didn’t want to look at it, but I forced myself to. As I bent, I clearly saw a number six scrawled on the back. Once in my hand, I could tell it was hastily written. Hard pen strokes dented the paper, nearly poking through in places.
Flipping the thick paper over, I realized it was a publicity shot I’d taken with Bryan shortly after we’d gotten engaged. We were standing in front of the main lodge at Powder Mountain back in Colorado, holding hands, with big cheesy grins. I remembered the day well. We were using some of our new-found fame to ramp up the summer session at the mountain, hoping to revive the off season and keep the business in the town’s hands.
The only difference between this photo and the one I had framed in our house back in Tellure Hollow was that this one had been destroyed. It looked like someone had taken a razor blade to my face, slicing the photo paper until my features were unrecognizable. They also severed our hands, but left Bryan completely unmarked. The violence of it was unnerving, but I kept my wits about me. Tucking the photo into my bag, I made sure I had everything, and left the locker room.
As I walked up to the bar, I calmly ran through everything I’d received up to that point. Whether or not it’s Nicole, this pretty much proves it’s another competitor, probably someone jealous about all the attention I’ve been getting. It’s probably another skier from the U.S., which explains the letters being mailed from both countries. They know I’ve been training here, and have access to the locker rooms. And isn’t it awfully convenient this lands on my bag the very day I challenge her to a race?
By the time I reached the bar, my mind was firmly made up that it must be Nicole. A cold fury settled in my stomach. I knew she was a conniving little brat, but I never thought she’d stoop so low. I planned on having a nice dinner with Bryan, attempting to be a normal couple for once, and then bringing up the photo when we got home. I refused to fall apart yet again, becoming another pile of pieces for him to put back together.
Like all my well-laid plans, this idea fell through too.
I spotted Bryan at the far end of the bar, half a pint of beer to his left, a petite, flirtatious bartender sitting to his right. The bar was almost entirely empty but for the two of them, yet they were so engrossed, neither of them noticed me approach. I walked up from behind and overheard Bryan.
“So, what do you think about these centerpieces? Aren’t they a little, I don’t know, mobster wedding?”
The girl laughed, touching his shoulder as she leaned back. “Yes! I can see it! I think it’s more Greek though, you see the little pillars?”
What are they… “Are you fucking kidding me?” I heard myself snap. My voice was high and squeaky, so I dropped the bag from my shoulder with a heavy thud, and glared at the two of them.
Bryan spun around in surprise, slamming the wedding binder shut on the bar in front of him. “Hey hon, I didn’t hear you…”
“You’re planning our wedding with her?” I couldn’t stop myself. This was one insult too far. It was one thing for him to take care of all the wedding planning, but to let some little groupie help, one who so obviously wanted to climb right into his pants. There was something about the girl that didn’t sit right with me. The way she looked at me, tensed when I arrived, like I was the one intruding. For all I know, she’s the stalker.
Bryan squinted at me like I was the crazy one. “You said you wanted me to take care of things. Liz, we talked about this.”
I let out a frustrated cry and flung my hands out. “I can’t believe you’re making me deal with this right now, Bryan.” I turned to the blonde girl, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights. And I’m the tractor trailer barreling down on you, honey. “I know how it is. He’s famous, hot, friendly, but you need to back the fuck off right now.”
“Whoa, all right,” she said, holding her hands up, again, like my reaction was completely unwarranted. “I’ll go close up the other side of the bar.”
“Yeah, I guess you should get back to your job,” I snapped.
Bryan stared at me in shock, waiting until blondie had disappeared. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“Do you have any idea what’s been happening to me? Do you even care that I apparently have a crazy freakin’ stalker following me half way around the world?” I bent and grabbed the photo out of the bag and thrust it under his nose.
He examined it, his brow furrowing. “When did you get this?”
“Just now. Downstairs. Wasn’t there when I went for a shower and then when I came back…” my voice trembled, betraying the real fear I barely had a handle of.
His hazel eyes shot to mine, filled with genuine concern. “Downstairs? Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve…”
“What? Done what? Besides, you were up here playing newlywed with cutie over there.” I snapped. The corners of my eyes pricked with tears, both out of anxiety and rage.
Bryan went silent, his mouth pressed into a thin line as he looked at the photo. He flipped it over and saw the number on the back. “This is just sick,” he muttered. “Josh went to the police though, right? They know all about this.”
A wave of nausea washed over me and I felt like I was about to faint. The bartender girl glared over at me and I realized how little I wanted to be having this conversation out in public. For all I knew, the stalker was watching me melt down. “Can we get out of here, please? You’re gonna have to drive.”
“Yeah, sure.” Bryan jumped down, wincing as he landed on his bad leg. He tossed a few bills down on the bar for the tab, tucked the binder under his arm, and reached for my bag.
“I’ve got it,” I said tightly.
“Really, I can carry it. You just went white as a ghost.”
I didn’t give him an opportunity to grab it, slinging it over my shoulder. It bumped against my ass as I walked quickly towards the door. When I glanced back to make sure he was following, I saw Bryan give the girl a short wave.
“Could you seriously not do that right now?”
He opened his mouth to say something and then thought better of it.
I ran my tongue along the front of my teeth and sighed. “I’m sorry for being such a righteous bitch right now,” I said in a way that showed I wasn’t that sorry.
What if it isn’t Nicole? What if it’s some other psycho who just wants me to think it’s her?
As I stormed away to the car, I couldn’t shake that horrible feeling of being watched. Every movement, hell, my every thought felt violated. The suspense was worse than any danger I’d ever faced.
An hour later, we were back at the house. Every light blazed as several policemen searched through each room, ensuring that nothing had been disturbed while we were gone. We all stood in the kitchen, Josh there for moral support. As soon as I’d called him in the car on the way home to find out if he’d gone to the police with the first letter, he’d insisted on coming over. After his initial brush off earlier that morning, he seemed genuinely concerned.
“So, wa
lk me through it one more time,” an older policeman named Henry prodded. He had a kind, fatherly face and a deep voice.
“It hasn’t changed since the last time I told you,” I groaned, crossing my arms. With the initial danger gone, I was growing weary of talking about it.
Bryan patted my elbow and I shot him a look that said, “Thin ice, buddy,” but he didn’t seem to read it.
I rolled my eyes, and rattled off the bullet points with little emotion. “Fine. I finished training with Janet, walked downstairs with her but went into the locker room alone. I dropped my shit, took a shower, found that, made sure no one was lurking around with a big butcher knife, scoped out the place, nothing, went and found Bryan upstairs in the bar.” Found Bryan playing bride-and-groom with that younger, cuter model, I finished in my head.
“And your coach, can we speak with her?”
“I can give you all her contact information,” Josh cut in.
“She’ll be asleep by now, anyway,” I mumbled.
Henry scratched a few notes onto a small pad of paper, completely obscured by his large hands. He looked up and studied me for a moment, not unkindly. “Did anyone else see you tonight? Know where you were?”
“Some of the staff are starting to recognize me. I mean, I was there all day. I had a bit of a run-in with a girl who hates me, if that helps.” Henry’s bushy eyebrows moved a fraction as he gestured for me to continue. “Nicole Drexel, another American skier. Loads of people saw it, and she’s threatened me before.”
“Like this?” he asked.
“Well, not exactly…” I had to admit. “But she has more reason than anyone else.
“We’ll look into it,” he said as he jotted it down. “Anyone else? Right around the time it happened. Anyone see you near the locker room, maybe a person you passed in the hallway?”
I shrugged again, looking at Bryan. “Just him and the bartender.”
“Bartender at the Double Diamond? Do you know her name? Anything about her?” he asked Bryan, tapping the pen to the side of his mouth.
Bryan gave me a sideways glance and picked at his fingernails. “Her name is Paige Simpson. She’s American, here with her cousin…” I gritted my teeth. He knows a hell of a lot more about her than that, he just doesn’t want to say it in front of me.
“Right… okay. Do you know where she lives by any chance?”
I felt Henry and Josh’s eyes dart to me, but I kept mine pinned on Bryan. Well? Do you? You seem to know an awful lot about this little bimbo.
“No, nothing like that,” he shook his head.
“All right then. I’ll try and track her down, see if she’s heard or seen anything as well,” said Henry. The handful of other police gathered back in the kitchen, declaring the house clear and free of crazy stalkers eager to slit my throat. “I think that’ll just about do it. Can you think of anything else you think we should know?”
I stifled a yawn and shook my head, but jumped when I realized I actually had left out an important part. Jamming my hand into my back pocket, I pulled out my phone. “Someone left me a voice message. I completely forgot.”
“Liz, you didn’t think this might…” Bryan started to say.
“I’ll be sure to do better with my next stalker,” I snapped. Putting the phone on speaker, I played the message for the room. The distorted voice somehow sounded more menacing this time around. Perhaps it was the gravity of the situation, playing it for police while they began an investigation.
Henry had me play it twice, taking notes the second time through. “I’m going to need a copy of that.”
“I can get a copy of it to you tomorrow,” Josh stepped in.
“Officer,” I started tentatively, “do you think I should be worried? Really, don’t sugar coat anything.”
His warm smile touched the corner of his weathered eyes. “I’m a cautious man, so I’m going to assign someone to you at all times until we figure out who’s behind this. I think you might have an overzealous fan, or perhaps another skier who isn’t too chuffed about your being here. Either way, I want you to feel safe while you’re here.”
So, in other words I’m going to protect you, but you shouldn’t worry about anything. Right. “Thank you, Henry.”
“We’ll talk to that Nicole and try to track down the bartender. I’ll send a guy out to the mountain tomorrow morning and ask around, just in case.”
I walked him to the front door, thanked him again, and then turned to Josh.
“I’m so, so sorry this is happening to you,” he said. He held me by both shoulders, and stooped his head to meet my eye. “If you need anything, seriously anything, you call me.”
“Thank you, I will. And I promise I’ll get the rest of those questions over to you tomorrow.”
“No! Don’t you worry about a thing, I’ll take care of it. You have enough on your plate,” he said as he pulled me into a tight embrace. I tried to fight it, but couldn’t resist the firm safety of a hug.
Bryan sniffed as he walked past on his way to the bedroom, a commentary on Josh’s last sentence. I nodded tightly and stepped out of his grasp. “Thank you again. I’ll give you a call tomorrow morning.”
I shut the front door and waited for Josh’s car to pull out of the drive before turning off the hallway light. The exterior was still fully lit, the very corner of the police cruiser shining in the darkness. I took several deep breaths in the dark before heading to bed.
When I reached the bedroom, I found Bryan half naked, washing his face in the bathroom. Every part of me wanted to pick a fight. Therapy was good for learning to recognize that urge at least. So rather than launching straight into an assault, I sat on the bed, threaded my fingers together, and waited quietly.
Bryan stood and toweled off his face, spotting me over the top. “Whoa. I didn’t expect you to be sitting there.” He hung up the towel and stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame. He eyed me suspiciously. “You okay?”
I sucked on my bottom lip before speaking. “No. I’m definitely not okay,” I replied calmly. “I think we should talk before going to bed.”
Bryan, although tense and obviously not in the mood to deal with any of this, still came and sat beside me on the wide bed. “What would you like to talk about?” he started.
I stared straight ahead, my fingers gripping the thick, downy comforter like I was afraid to float away. I tried to access the tools my therapist had given me to manage my temper, but came up short. When I spoke, it was in a quiet, measured tone that still dripped with anger. “I’m trying not to take my frustration out on you right now, but I need you to understand that I am upset by your actions.”
“Uh huh,” he said casually.
Use your words, I thought to myself. “When I saw you sharing our wedding binder with another woman, it made me feel uncomfortable, like you were being unfaithful.”
“Unfaithful,” he repeated in a tone he knew drove me crazy.
I took another breath and dug my nails into the palm of my hand, out of his line of sight. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t plan our wedding with another woman, especially one who wants to skewer herself on your dick.”
Bryan scoffed and leaned back on his hands. “Seriously?”
“Christ, will you work with me here?” I snapped. “I’m trying to do this maturely, but if you want a raging bitch on your hands, this is the best way to bring her out.” I glared at him, becoming even more enraged by his calm demeanor.
“Am I allowed to talk now?”
I swear, my nostrils probably flared like an angry horse, but I somehow kept my cool. “Of course.”
“I think you’re justifiably upset by everything that’s happening right now. And when you’re upset, you tend to lash out at whoever is unlucky enough to be standing nearby.”
“So you’re telling me you feel like you did nothing wrong?”
The fire in his eyes diminished slightly and he looked away. “I shouldn’t have shared the book with her, no
. You were right to be upset. I am sorry you saw that.”
I shouldn’t have been, but I was taken aback by his sudden change in attitude. Bryan always had a way of diffusing a tense situation. He wasn’t the type of guy to carry on a fight just to prove a point. When he was wrong, he admitted it, which usually doused the flames of my anger straight away.
“Thank you,” I muttered. No matter how calm he was, I was still upset.
“We’re a team, you know,” he said. He slipped a hand under my sweater and rubbed the small of my back. “It’s us against the rest of the world, like always.”
The rest of my anger melted away. “I know.” I scooted over and rested my head on his shoulder. “I just feel so helpless, and it pisses me off. I want to know who it is so I can carry on with the rest of my life.”
“You’re far from helpless. I feel sorry for the person who decides to mess with you. They’re a freakin’ idiot.”
I laughed, fighting through the confusing web of emotions to find a little humor in the situation. “I didn’t tell Henry, but when I was looking around the locker room for the person who left the letter, I had a fist full of keys.”
“See?” Bryan chuckled, giving me a squeeze. “You’re dangerous. This person obviously doesn’t know who they’re taking on.”
An hour later, before we turned off the lights, I rolled over onto my side and slid my hand along his chest. “Can you promise me you won’t go to that bar anymore? I’ll meet you someplace else, I don’t care how far away. I just don’t feel comfortable with you seeing that girl anymore.”
“That doesn’t sound like the strong, confident Liz I know and love,” he replied. It was too dark to see his expression, but I could hear the frown in his voice.
“I know. I can’t explain it, but please? It’s not a ton to ask, right?”
He sighed and patted my hand. “Not at all. Now come on, let’s get to sleep.”
I rolled over, wondering why I was afraid to admit my real suspicions. Bryan would probably just think I was being jealous, but is that enough reason to hide my gut feeling about Paige? I have been right before…