Parker Security Complete Series

by Camilla Blake

  “Well, regardless,” the woman said, looking a little flustered herself now, too, “I think it’s very nice that you’re going to write someone a letter. Not enough people do that nowadays, if you want my opinion.”

  I was finally able to pay for my stuff and get out of there, which was a relief. It was also a relief that Ben didn’t bring it up, though the woman’s observation continued to hover over me. Was there really some sort of noticeable chemistry? Is that why I felt so completely at ease around him?

  I tried to banish those thoughts from my mind, though, as we walked back to my place.

  When we got to my building, I stood there for a moment, not quite sure what to say. “Thank you,” was what I finally decided on.

  “No need to thank me. This was probably one of the nicest ‘work’ afternoons I’ve had in a while—so maybe I should thank you! Good luck with the letter-writing. Just don’t overthink it; you’ll know what to write.”

  I said goodbye, and when I turned to let myself in, I knew, even though my back was to him, that he was watching me.

  Once inside, I busied myself putting the peaches away, arranging the flowering branches in their respective spots both in the kitchen and the living room, the lavender bunches in the bathroom. The afternoon light was coming through the bathroom window just right, so I took a few photos. But I decided to wait to post; I wanted to think of something to write, but there was something else that I wanted to write right now.

  I sat down at the kitchen table and took out the stationery and my new pen. Ben’s words came back to me, to not overthink it. To not let myself get so caught up in trying to find the right words that I just ended up paralyzed, unable to write anything at all. I took a deep breath and felt my shoulders relax. Somehow, just thinking of Ben, hearing his voice in my head, it calmed me down, made me feel like I could do this, when before it had felt so impossible.

  I started to write.

  The words flowed easily, like also somehow it made a difference that I was writing with a pen and not typing on a keyboard or on the screen of my phone. I wrote without stopping, without going back to reread what I’d just gotten down. At the end, I signed my name, which was something I couldn’t remember last doing. I never got checks and I always paid with a debit card. My own signature looked foreign to me, but familiar, too, like a friend I hadn’t seen in a long time. I folded the paper and put it into the envelope.

  ***

  There was a small group of us who got together occasionally, people who were popular on social media. Our get-togethers were somewhat infrequent, as the group had been started by this couple, James and Meredith, who traveled a lot. They rose to fame on YouTube, though they did also have an Instagram account; they were two of the original travel vloggers, but they made their home base in San Francisco, and would come back for a month at a time. When they were in town, they would put the word out and we’d all meet up, usually at their place in Bernal Heights. I’d been invited to the group by Samson, whom I’d met through Elliott.

  The mood of this latest get-together was not the carefree, lighthearted atmosphere that I’d gotten used to. I hadn’t told Ben about it, because I didn’t know if I would be able to bring him in with me, and also I didn’t want to have to explain to everyone that I had actually hired a security guard. They’d probably think that was stupid, and though everyone here was very nice, I still didn’t really feel like I was part of the group.

  But as the seven of us sat in James and Meredith’s living room, it became clear that I wasn’t the only person who was slightly on edge because of everything that had happened.

  Meredith, seated next to me, kept refilling her glass of wine and glancing around the room with a nervous expression on her face, as if she thought the person responsible for the shootings could be sitting amongst us. If so, it would’ve meant it was either me, James, Johann (a chef who specialized in cooking with cannabis), Zhang (a midwife and urban homesteader), or Amy and Alex (another couple, who also documented their travels).

  “It’s, like, really freaking me out,” Meredith said. “It’s also bothering me the way that no one is really making any connections between the three. Like they’re all unrelated.”

  “Well, babe, they could be,” James said. He cast his own gaze around the room, looking to drum up support. He ran a hand through his hair, which was long for a guy, past his shoulders, and almost as famous as he was (a fan of his had created an Instagram account dedicated just to James’s hair, which was most often in a stylish man bun). “I’m not saying I’m a police detective or anything like that, because I think we all know how I feel about the cops. But I’m also not trying to be an alarmist.”

  Meredith set her glass down on the square coffee table in front of us, an ornately carved work of art from Thailand. “I’m not trying to be an alarmist. I think I have a very valid reason to be concerned. I know I can’t be the only one.” She looked at me. “What about you, Teagan? You knew Cecily, right? How are you feeling about this whole thing?”

  “I...” I paused, feeling myself blush as I realized everyone was looking at me. This was why I liked the Internet better—there was never that feeling of having everyone’s eyes on you, of being put on the spot. Any caption or micro blog I’d ever put up on Instagram had been carefully thought about, written, edited. But here, in person, I really only had once chance to say what I wanted—there wasn’t a delete button when it came to real conversations.

  “I am concerned,” I said. “I do think there’s a good chance there could be some connection. I think maybe the fact that it really hasn’t been brought up is even more of a reason why there might be one.”

  “Thank you,” Meredith said. “It makes me feel better just knowing that at least one other person feels the same way I do.”

  “I’m trying not to think about it,” Amy said. “Really, I think we should all just get back on the road. It’s all happening here in California. Maybe California isn’t the place to be anymore.”

  “We’ll be heading out soon enough,” James said, “but I’m not going to just pack up and leave because some lunatic is out there shooting people. I leave on my own terms.”

  “Not if that lunatic shoots you in the head!” Meredith said. “Then you’ll be dead and you’ll have left on his terms. I wish you would take this more seriously.”

  “See, babe, if I take it seriously, it’s going to put a major drag on my mood. Because then I start thinking about how messed up this world really is, when the whole point of our existence online is to make people see the goodness and beauty in the world. If I start thinking about these random shootings, I’m going to start thinking about other shit, too, and it’s going to affect the way I feel. I don’t want that sort of vibe. Positivity only. This whole conversation is really bringing the vibe down.”

  “But we agreed we were going to talk about this,” Meredith said in a low voice. “We talked about this before everybody else got here and you said that we could discuss it. Because it’s important. Because what if we say nothing and then it happens again?”

  “So, what are you proposing?” James asked. “That we put a call-out on social media? Ask the killer to step forward and turn himself in?”

  “I don’t know! I’m just saying that we need to do something. We at least need to acknowledge it.”

  “I hired a security guard.”

  I blurted this out because I could tell James and Meredith were only a few more seconds away from getting into a full-blown argument in front of us, and I didn’t want to see that. Seeing other people argue—whether I knew them or not—always made me uncomfortable, maybe because I could remember how excruciating it was as a child to have to hear my parents arguing.

  My announcement stopped their conversation dead in its tracks, and now everyone was looking at me again.

  “Security guard?” Johann asked. “Really? What’s that been like?”

  “Um...” I could feel myself blushing, and I wished I hadn’t said anyth
ing, because now I was going to have to explain myself, or at least answer their questions. “It hasn’t been so bad.”

  “But where is he?” Meredith sat up and looked around. “Is he here? Is he waiting for you outside?”

  “Well… no. He didn’t come with me. I wasn’t... I wasn’t sure that would be okay.”

  “Of course it would be okay!” Meredith exclaimed. “Isn’t that the whole point of you having a bodyguard? That he be with you at all times?”

  “It isn’t like that. I don’t have twenty-four-hour security; I don’t think I need that.”

  James looked relieved after I said this. “See?” he said. “Teagan obviously isn’t that worried about this that she thinks she needs security all the time.”

  “But she’s worried enough that she got someone in the first place!” She looked back over to me. “So why isn’t he with you now?”

  “I just... I didn’t want to bother him. I figured I’d be okay coming over here on my own.”

  “You’re paying him, though—right?”

  “Of course.”

  “So, then, you shouldn’t be worried about bothering him! That’s what his job is. Do you have, like, some sort of schedule or something?”

  “No. It’s more of an on-call thing.”

  Amy grinned. “You know, I like the sound of that. Just having some guy at your beck and call.”

  She and Meredith both laughed, like there was somehow something funny about the idea of me having someone at my beck and call. “That’s not how it is,” I said quickly. “It’s not like that at all. It’s not like he’s just waiting around for me to tell him what to do.”

  “Would that really be that bad?” Meredith asked, still laughing. James gave her a mock hurt look and she reached across the carved wooden coffee table and patted his knee. “You know I’m just kidding,” she said, smiling sweetly. She threw a conspiratorial look Amy’s way. “Well... not entirely,” she said. “I mean, it would be nice to feel like I could ask you to do something, and you’d do it.” Now she was looking at James again, and while her tone was light, joking, there was an undercurrent of something else, something that I couldn’t quite name but that made me want to slide further down the couch, get some more distance between us.

  “Isn’t it funny?” James said to Alex and Johann. “If it was the other way around—and we were saying how nice it would be if the women would just do what we said—”

  “Excuse me?” Meredith blinked. “Did I just hear you correctly? Are you trying to insinuate—”

  “Babe!” James held up both hands. I swallowed, even though my throat felt completely dry. “I think we’re all just a little on edge here. You girls are really just perpetuating this whole idea that the sky is falling or something really bad is going to happen to us. It’s making everyone a little anxious. Let’s just all chill the fuck out, okay?”

  He was right—the tension in the room was palpable, hanging down over us like the thick fog that often enshrouded the Golden Gate Bridge. I wished that I could be anywhere but there right then, but there was no way I could make an exit right now. I felt trapped, and also like I had done something wrong, even though the only reason I’d brought it up in the first place had been to try to defuse the situation. Instead, apparently, I had just made it worse.

  “You’re acting like the women here are getting hysterical, which we’re not,” Meredith said. “We’re just concerned. We’re not in denial about things. I think Teagan absolutely had the right idea, doing what she did.” She looked at me. “Maybe you should call him now and have him come by. I wouldn’t mind talking with him. I was telling James before you guys all got here that it might be a good idea if we looked into something like that. And he said I was crazy, that no one else would be doing anything at all like that, but obviously that’s not true.” She had a bit of a triumphant smile on her face. “Thank you so much for bringing it up. Like I said, it makes me feel better to know that I’m not the only one who is freaking out about this.”

  James shot me a look as though I had personally betrayed him, and I immediately felt even worse—though how was I supposed to know?

  “Will you see if he can come over?” Meredith asked. “I would really appreciate it if you would.”

  “Yeah,” Amy chimed in. “I would love to talk with him, too.”

  I felt like I was back in middle school again, the popular girls trying to get me to let them copy my answers. I always had, of course, in part because I hoped that would mean they would like me, they would let me in their little clique. It never worked, of course, and you would’ve thought that I would’ve learned that after the first few times, but it was like I was powerless to say no. Even now.

  “Okay,” I said, and I retrieved my purse from my feet and pulled my phone out. I told myself that I shouldn’t feel guilty doing this, because I was paying him. And he himself had said that I could be in touch whenever I wanted. I felt Meredith’s eyes on me as I typed a quick message. Maybe he’d be busy; maybe he wouldn’t respond. I hit send and then slid my phone back into my purse.

  “I think you’re onto something,” Meredith said to me. “I think it’s really smart that you were proactive about this. You didn’t just wait until it was too late to do something to try to protect yourself. Can I ask you something else? Do you have a gun?”

  I stared at her. A gun? “No,” I said. “I’ve never even seen a gun in person before. Well, that’s not true. My ex-boyfriend’s father has a huge collection of guns, so I guess I’ve seen one, but I’ve never held one. That’s not something that I’m into.”

  “Babe,” James said, raising an eyebrow. “We’re not getting a gun. I can’t believe you’d even ask her that.”

  “I’m just trying to think of ways that we can stay safe!” Meredith said.

  Amy was nodding. “I agree,” she said. “Maybe not a gun, but I was thinking about a dog.”

  “I have a dog,” Johann said. “But he’s afraid of loud noises.”

  Alex shook his head. “The van is cramped enough as it is,” he said. “We’re not getting a dog. At least not until we get a bigger van.”

  “Then we might just have to do that. Nothing wrong with a little upgrade.”

  “You’re right,” Alex said, “but I’m kind of with James on this one. I want to upgrade because it’s something that we want to do, on our own terms. Not because we’re afraid of what some crazy person out there might do to us.”

  I could, in a way, understand what they were saying. No one wanted to feel like they were being forced into doing something that they didn’t want to do. Yet sometimes you couldn’t wait until you could do things “on your own terms.” Maybe Cecily had been thinking that same thing. But maybe if she had known the way things were going to turn out, she wouldn’t have waited.

  And that was the thing. I didn’t want to end up in a situation where I wished that I had done something sooner.

  Chapter 7

  Ben

  I found it to be rather pleasant, actually, to be working with Teagan, not just because I enjoyed being in her company, but also because it broke up the monotony of the administrative tasks I did throughout the day. I was good at focusing on what needed to be done, but after a few hours, my mind would want to start to wander, start thinking about all the places outdoors I could be.

  I was in the kitchen, making a quick dinner for Dad and me, when I heard my phone go off. It was there on the counter, and the beep interrupted the NPR program I was listening to. I turned the burner off so the tofu wouldn’t burn and I went over and glanced down at the phone. It was from Teagan: Are you available right now? I’m sorry for the short notice. I came to a get-together in Bernal Heights and I was wondering if you would come by here.

  She included the address, but other than that, there weren’t any details. I could hear the television on in the living room; it sounded like some history program about World War II. Dad had been watching a lot of military documentaries lately, and while I
certainly found parts of history fascinating, war was not one of them. Dad would also bitch about the tofu, kale, and brown rice that I was about to serve him for dinner, so perhaps making a hasty exit would not be such a bad idea.

  Not to mention that I had told Teagan she could text me whenever she wanted.

  I made a plate for Dad and had a few bites straight from the pan for myself. Dad was not one of those people who really ever seemed to gain weight, regardless of what he ate, a fact which he took to mean he should be able to eat whatever he wanted. At least a few times a week, though, I made a healthy meal, something that actually included a green vegetable.

  “What’s this?” Dad asked when I placed the plate on the table next to him. “Not that bean-curd shit again.”

  “It’s tofu,” I said, “and I seasoned it with lots of olive oil and garlic, so it should taste pretty good. I’m not going to be able to stay and eat with you.”

  He eyed me. “Is that because you’re now going out to get some real food?”

  “No, Dad. I already had a little of this. Which is how I know that it doesn’t taste like the garbage you think it does.”

  “I don’t see the need for me to eat this healthy shit. It’s not like I’m going to be running a marathon anytime soon. This sort of stuff is for people who care about that kind of thing. Or people on some sort of diet. I’m not on a diet. I want a steak.”

  “You can have a steak another night. We don’t have any here at the moment, anyway.”

  “Where are you going, then? If you’re not going out to get some real food.”

  “I’ve got to go meet up with Teagan. She’s a client of mine.”

  “At this hour?”

  “I’m sort of on-call with her.”

  Dad regarded me coolly. “Is that code for something?”

  “No. It’s exactly what it sounds like.”

  His expression changed to one of disappointment. “Well. That’s too bad. One of these days maybe you’ll realize that your old man still might know what he’s talking about. Some of the time, at least. You should be putting yourself out there. Find a woman, one who isn’t going to treat you like shit like the last one did. You want to live with your father for the rest of your life? That the great grand plan of yours?”