Shattered Pearls

by Sidney Parker

  “Are you okay?” he asked me. “I heard something hit the front of your house. I was in my garage when this old car drove by slowly and then sped off. I didn’t get a good look at them or the car except that it was a dark tan, beat up old thing with lots of rust. I didn’t see the driver or if there was a passenger. Damn tinted windows.”

  “I’m okay,” I assured him. “I was out back when it happened. They threw a rock at the house.”

  I picked it up and looked at it. Then I handed it over to George. He was a retired detective with the Tempe police department. I wasn’t sure what to do but I knew he would know.

  He looked at the rock and then looked at me a bit confused.

  “Have you made any enemies lately?” he asked. “Or dumped some guy who had the hots for you?”

  “No, no enemies I’m aware of and I have taken a break from dating for the last few months. Four, to be exact. I have no idea what this is about.”

  “Damn. No dating at all? That’s just a waste—you’re too pretty to be single.”

  I had to chuckle at George’s analysis—because I‘m pretty I should have a boyfriend—I didn’t think so.

  “I’m going to run home and call one of my buddies on the Chandler force, have him stop by, and we can at least have him write up a report on this. Maybe get some extra patrolling around the neighborhood. This isn’t good. It’s usually pretty quiet around here most days.” He reached over and opened my door for me, motioning for me to go back inside.

  “Lock the door behind you. I’ll call when he’s on his way over; in the meantime, I’m going to be in my garage, keeping an eye on things. This is not happening in my neighborhood, not at all.”

  Once a cop, always a cop, and I was so lucky to have him living across the street. He may be a bit nosy at times, but I felt safe with him around.

  The worst part was being woken up from the most beautiful dream. A memory from long ago I wished I could go back to, but dreams didn’t work that way. My heart was still pounding from the adrenaline so there was no way I was going back to sleep. And it was getting so good too. Damn!

  “Elliot? Where the hell are you?” I asked out loud to no one at all.

  What was it going to take with that Bitch? She had to know I was here. She always knew when I was around before.

  It was like she had a sixth sense or something. As soon as I was close by, she knew and was waiting for me just like the trained mutt she was. And I trained her good.

  I was getting tired of waiting. She was fucking someone, she had to be. She couldn’t go without a man. She had to have someone between her legs and I would find him. No one fucked my property, no one.

  I was getting to her. I saw her looking over her shoulder when she was all alone. When she ran in the mornings or walked across the parking lot at night when she went to Louie’s … I saw everything. I knew she was afraid, I saw the fear from across the street. I could smell it on her. She didn’t even realize yet how close I was. Soon enough she would understand. Soon she would pay for everything she had done to me. No one walked away from me, dismissing me. No one.

  I pushed a lock of greasy hair out of my eyes as I scanned the neighborhood. It was so easy to sit here and watch her. I smiled, thinking of the games I wanted to play, how she would beg me to forgive her. My tongue worked its way through the hole in the front of my mouth, the space where teeth used to be, tracing the jagged emptiness like the tongue of a serpent, as I planned.

  No one paid any attention to me at all. Grabbing another beer, I twisted off the top, and tossing it into the street, I took a long drink. I was invisible and invincible. No one would stop me this time. And that bitch belonged to me. I owned her.

  EMILY

  George called an hour later to let me know the police were on their way. I had already checked out the security camera in the front of the house.

  Nothing.

  I had a giant Yucca tree and several other very tall cacti blocking the view of the street so I couldn’t see anything at all.

  I walked around the house checking locks on the windows and double-checking any possible way someone could get inside. I was probably overreacting but everything was making me nervous. I couldn’t think of anyone who would do this to me.

  Even the jerks I used to date wouldn’t have cared enough to find the energy to harass me. They were no more attached to me than I was to them.

  First the beer bottles and now a rock. I was lucky it didn’t go through a window. That would have really made me mad, besides scaring the living daylights out of me. This was bad enough. I was starting to wonder if whoever left me the rose was a part of this, too. Nothing like wrecking my little fantasy.

  I decided to walk out front and wait for George’s friend. I made sure the sliding door was locked and I grabbed my keys to let myself back in. You never knew who was lurking around, hiding behind things that you didn’t even notice.

  I could see George working on something in his garage, and as I walked across the street, a police cruiser pulled into his driveway. I never had many dealings with the police before. I always thought of them like the old TV show, Mayberry R.F.D., and Barney, that really goofy cop, the one who always screwed everything up. My grandmother loved that show.

  The man stepping out of the cruiser was no goofy cop. Holy Moses, arrest me now, he was pure eye candy to look at. Cropped blond hair and nicely tanned, Ray-Ban Aviators hiding his eyes, he looked like he worked out several times a day—he was so built. And that gun holster getup and all the toys on his belt were so damn sexy I almost couldn’t breathe. My jaw dropped somewhere around my knees. He caught me staring at him with slack jaw and grinned. Busted! Trying to regain some composure, I stepped forward and extended my hand.

  “Hi, I’m George’s neighbor, Emily Golden, and the recipient of the flying rock.”

  He took my hand in his and more squeezed it than shook it.

  “Hi. Tom Campbell, Chandler Police department. Is this the first time anything like this has happened to you?” he asked, all business.

  “Well, someone left some empty beer bottles, one at a time, a few weeks back. They were on my front step. Early in the day one of the bottles had fallen and was broken on the sidewalk so I cleaned it up, not really giving it a lot of thought, and then later when a girlfriend came over, there was another one left there. I thought it was kids or something.”

  He just looked at me.

  “I didn’t leave them out there,” I explained, feeling a bit uncomfortable. “I don’t even drink beer and when I have friends over, we drink wine. I don’t even buy beer.”

  I wasn’t sure why I was becoming so defensive, but he was just staring at me.

  George jumped in. “Emily is really quiet, Tom. I’ve lived by her going on six years now. There has never been anything disorderly going on around here before. She’s a good girl.”

  I coughed to suppress the laugh threatening to bubble up. I mean—I was a nice person and all. No loud parties or fighting. I was friendly with the neighbors. I led a quiet life, but good girl? That might be a bit of a stretch.

  Officer Campbell looked me over again, glanced at George, then back at me again, appraising me.

  “Okay, did you make anyone mad lately? Or dump some guy with an attitude problem? Anything?” he asked.

  Is it a cop thing to ask if I dumped someone? George asked the same thing, as if I asked for this or something.

  Keeping my attitude in check along with my temper, I answered. “No, I can’t think of anyone who would do something like this.”

  “It might just be kids, although there has not been any other reports of pranks like this in the area. You have security cameras facing both the front and back of your property, and an alarm system if someone tries to get in, right?” he asked.

  “Yes, but it doesn’t cover the street with the plants in the way by the driveway. I have security on all the doors and windows in the house, too. I don’t usually turn the system on when I’m home, but I
think I will now. This is making me a bit edgy,” I told him.

  “That’s a good idea. You have the security system installed, you should be using it. I’ll write up a report so we have it on file. I’ll also let the department know so they send patrols around more often. We can keep an eye out for anything going on. By the way, do you have a gun?”

  I was a bit taken aback by his question.

  “No … should I have one?”

  I’d never thought about buying a gun. In fact, I’d never even held one, much less fired one. I wasn’t sure I could.

  “No, I’m not telling you to get one. And if you don’t know how to use one, definitely not. Do not get a gun unless you go through gun safety. I made my ex-wife go through the classes when she decided she needed one.”

  He paused, then went on. “If you decide to get one, let me know. I can recommend several classes for you, and George can help you too. He was damn good with firearms in his day.”

  George lifted his head a notch and expanded his chest.

  “I still am,” he bragged.

  “I don’t really want a gun. They scare me. I’m afraid I would shoot a friend by accident or someone would turn it on me. And there might be the tiny, little temptation to shoot an old boyfriend if they come around and harass me,” I joked.

  “I DID NOT HEAR THAT!” Tom Campbell’s voice was loud and stern.

  OKAY! I hit a nerve and concluded no shooting ex-boyfriend jokes with a serious cop. Crap, no points for me. But I remembered the ex-wife comment. File that one away for a rainy day, or one of my friends.

  Tom talked a bit of shop talk with George before he headed out. He shook my hand, gave me his card, and assured me that they would be keeping an eye on the neighborhood. He made me nervous, not because I was afraid but because he was so great to look at. Yummy.

  George told me to put his number on my speed dial in case I heard anything or got scared. Claimed his cell was always with him, habit of a former detective. I told him I would do it right away and headed back inside.

  This was way too much drama on a weekend to deal with. After locking the front door behind me and adjusting George’s number to speed dial status, I grabbed my iPad and curled up on the couch.

  I was thinking maybe a dog would not only be good company, but also a little extra security. A part of me had wanted a dog for years now, but with the lifestyle I used to lead, constantly on the go and rarely home, I never felt it would be fair to own a pet.

  Now it was different. I wasn’t out there chasing the demons, hitting the bars, and running from myself so much. I was content to spend more of my time at home, at least when someone wasn’t trying to scare me. A dog could be the perfect roommate, company, protection … and the great part? They wouldn’t be borrowing my clothes.

  I started searching the local rescue sites for a new roommate. An affectionate, playful companion I could curl up with or take on my morning run. And a watchdog that would make someone think twice before bothering me. That’s what I wanted.

  EMILY

  I pulled my jeep into my driveway Thursday afternoon. The only person I saw outside was George, as always, puttering away in his garage. Walking around to the passenger side, I opened the door and out jumped Lucky, my new best friend. He waited for me to take hold of his leash and we headed over to meet George.

  George walked out of the garage and headed toward us with a huge smile on his face.

  “What do we have here?” he asked, stopping before Lucky and extending his hand. Lucky sniffed a few times and sat down, lifting his paw for a shake. George was accepted.

  “George, this is Lucky. My new roommate. Lucky? Meet George.”

  Lucky calmly looked up at him, waiting.

  “Where did you find him?” George asked, as he scratched behind Lucky’s ears and checked him over.

  “I went online Sunday after talking to you and looked at all the local shelters. His picture jumped out at me. He is a Golden Retriever, Shepherd mix, four years old, completely trained, and just waiting for his forever home,” I replied happily.

  Lucky’s coloring was pure golden red except around his eyes, which were dark and looked like a raccoon, and his pointed ears were darker at the tips. I stepped back and admired my new companion.

  “I think he is rather striking myself,” I stated.

  Lucky glanced up at me as if to agree, then went back to scouting out his new surroundings.

  “Do you know the history at all? He looks like a great dog. Very well-mannered.”

  “A couple had him since he was a puppy, then had a kid two years later, and Lucky was delegated to the backyard. They finally surrendered him a few weeks ago because no one had any time for him.

  It made me mad when people bought a dog, then ignored them when life got too busy. But their loss was my gain. Since I did most of my work from home, I had a lot of time to spend with Lucky. I loved to run and he needed lots of exercise. I also figured a big dog would deter whoever had been throwing things at my house and harassing me. One look at Lucky and they should think about leaving.

  As long as the bad guys didn’t have treats in their pockets, that is.

  “I think it’s a great idea. Being part Shepherd, he’ll be protective of you. Really good when you’re out running by yourself.”

  Lucky stood up and walked over to me. He circled around me once and sat down right at my feet.

  “See that!” George pointed out. “He already understands who he needs to protect! Good boy,” he praised Lucky, giving him a good rub on his back. “Good boy!”

  “Have you heard anything from Officer Campbell?” I asked him.

  “No, nothing yet, but I have seen patrol cars going through a lot more often. They’re keeping an eye on things. Have you had any more trouble?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No, it’s been really quiet the last four days.”

  “I’m hoping more police presence around the neighborhood has scared them and they’ve stopped the shenanigans.”

  I nodded in agreement with George.

  “I’m going to take Lucky over and get him acquainted with his new home. I’ll check in with you later.”

  Lucky and I headed back to my house. I hit the opener for the garage door and grabbed a large bag from the back of the jeep. Dog food, treats, and other supplies for my new friend. I let Lucky into the house and unhooked his leash so he could sniff out every corner of his new home.

  Setting the bag on the counter, I pulled out a water dish and filled it. I put his food into another dish and set them both on the floor in a corner by my kitchen table.

  Lucky greedily began to lap up his water. I was glad I bought the biggest dish I could find. He wasn’t really large, sixty pounds. There were other dogs much larger and meaner looking, but when Lucky stared at me with those beautiful green eyes of his, I knew he was the one for me. He looked so darn lost in his kennel. Instant love on my part and he seemed to be taken with me too. I felt good. I knew I made the right choice. Lucky was my family now.

  He disappeared into my bedroom. When I walked in there a few minutes later, I found him curled up in a sunbeam of light on the floor right next to the side of my bed where I usually slept. I was amazed by how smart he was.

  I had a little dog when I was growing up. She usually slept on the bed, much to the dismay of my grandmother. We tried getting her to sleep in a dog bed on the floor but it never worked.

  I thought about taking Lucky out for a run, but he looked a bit tuckered out so I figured we could go later. I needed to get some work done anyway.

  I headed into my office and flipped my laptop open, and starting with my emails, I got down to business. I had one book almost finished editing and another waiting. The first was a final edit before I sent it back to the author for publishing. The other was a first time edit. A brand new author and a first book. What I had read so far, I loved. This one would be fun. There was something so satisfying working with a writer who finally found the ambiti
on to finish a story, then the courage to move forward and actually put the book out there.

  I wanted to do that someday. Write my own instead of just editing for others. I had pages of ideas needing to grow into stories. I just needed to work on myself—discipline, among other things.

  I watched her get out of her jeep with a dog. A FUCKING DOG!

  Like that would stop me. I’d just kill the damn thing if it got in my way.

  Her nosy neighbor was becoming a problem too. Calling the cops? That’s just shit. They were just stupid if they thought that’d stop me. That bitch was my property and she needed to know who owned her. She needed to come home where she belonged before someone got hurt. She’d had more than enough time to figure shit out.

  Of course she needed to be taught a lesson once I got her home, but I had that all planned out, too. No way she’d make that mistake twice, stupid bitch. She knew I was out here somewhere. I was never going away, never. I promised her I would never leave her … ever.

  She needed to learn her lesson soon.

  EMILY

  The sun was starting to rise to the east of me, just winking between the peaks of the mountains. I slowed my pace down for a few moments to watch, giving both my legs and Lucky a slight break. Having a rambunctious and energetic running partner had really stepped up my game these days.

  For the last two weeks we went out just after dawn every morning to get our run in. I was proud to say I was up to five miles a day between running in the morning and again at night.

  At first I groaned when the alarm clock went off. Telling myself just five more minutes of sleep, but when Lucky, watching me with those big green eyes of his, would drag his leash onto the bed to let me know time was wasting away, I had to get up. Now the routine was set, and I thought I was enjoying it more than he was.

  We were both thriving and healing. The melancholy days were becoming less frequent, and though dreams of Elliot were always in my heart, the hurt was disappearing. The thought of moving on with my life wasn’t as scary as it was even a few months ago. I guess time does heal after all.