Follow Me

by Kathleen Barber

  “I’ve been calling—”

  “I know,” I interrupted. “Audrey’s here, and she told me what happened.”

  “Then you know more than I do,” he said, his voice distraught. “What’s going on?”

  “She found your little photo collection.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line.

  “Max? Did you hear me?” I drew a breath and closed my eyes. “Please tell me this is all a misunderstanding. Please tell me you didn’t take those photos.”

  “I didn’t take those photos,” he said quietly.

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “Because liars always assume everyone else is lying,” he suggested, a nasty undercurrent to his voice.

  “What?” I gasped.

  “Cat, I didn’t take those photos,” he said emphatically. “Does Audrey think I did?”

  “She thinks that you took them, and, more than that, she thinks you’ve been stalking her. She thinks you’re the one who’s been terrorizing her.”

  “Oh God,” he murmured. “That’s not true. Let me talk to her.”

  “I don’t think she wants to talk to you.”

  “Please, Cat,” he said desperately. “I have to talk to her. Please.”

  I sighed. “I’ll tell her you want to talk to her, but I’m not promising anything.”

  “Please, Cat,” he said again. Then his voice hardened as he added, “It’s what’s best for us. For all of us.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  AUDREY

  I sat at an otherwise empty communal table at Columbia Brews, my hands cupping an almond milk latte I was too nervous to drink. I kept my eyes on the door, and my stomach jumped every time a blond man walked in. I almost got up and left four separate times, unable to believe I’d let Cat talk me into meeting with Max. She was so certain those photos were innocent. What do you have to lose by talking to him? she’d asked. Just talk to him, and you’ll know whether he’s telling the truth or not.

  I knew Cat was referencing my sixth sense for judging character. I was rarely wrong. Sophomore year in high school, for example, my friends all said I was crazy when I turned down an invitation to senior prom with Bobby Kendall, indisputably the best-looking and most sought-after boy in our whole school, simply because I had a “bad feeling”—but then Bobby Kendall drove himself and his date into a tree after a post-prom party. And then there was the time I told Izzy I was getting a bad vibe from the cute guy she’d met on the Q train; she soon discovered his apartment was filled with taxidermied rats.

  But lately my radar had been malfunctioning. I’d been completely surprised by Lawrence’s behavior; I was shocked to discover Nick was harboring some sort of unrequited love. And so I didn’t trust my gut when it came to Max. My instinct was to believe that someone who looked at me as tenderly as he did couldn’t be anything other than genuine, but then I remembered those creepy surveillance photos of me on his computer and I wasn’t sure of anything.

  I was about to push myself back from the table a fifth time when I looked up to see Max loping into the coffee shop, looking more rumpled than usual. My heart twisted, and I had to fight my natural inclination to greet him with a kiss.

  “Hey,” he said uncertainly, lowering himself into a seat across from me. He flashed me a quick smile that didn’t reach his red-rimmed eyes. “Thanks for meeting me.”

  My fingers longed to reach out and touch the soft edges of his vintage Ramones T-shirt, the one I had worn to sleep so many times I could practically feel it now on my body, but I held myself back. I lifted my chin and looked at him squarely, keeping my voice steady as I said, “You should be thanking Cat. She’s the one who convinced me I should hear your side of things.”

  He nodded mutely.

  “I trusted you, Max,” I said quietly, my voice betraying me and breaking. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “Help me out, Audrey,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “I don’t know what we’re talking about. What happened? When I left, you were naked in my bed, and when I came back, you were gone and no longer taking my calls. What changed?”

  “I found the pictures.”

  “What pictures?” he asked, his expression so bewildered that for a split second I wondered if I had imagined the whole thing. But then I recalled the shock of opening that folder and seeing rows upon rows of digital images of myself, and anger flared inside me.

  “Come on, Max,” I snapped. “You know what pictures I mean. The ones on your computer. The ones of me.”

  “Oh,” he said, casting his eyes down to the scratched table. “Those.”

  “Those.”

  He nodded dumbly. “Yeah. Jeez, Audrey, I can understand why those might have freaked you out. But they’re not what you think.”

  “Then tell me what they are,” I said, allowing myself a flicker of hope that there might be an innocent explanation, that I hadn’t been so wrong, so completely and utterly wrong, about this man.

  “Don’t freak out, okay? But I found those online.”

  “What? Online where?”

  “When we first started dating, I … well, I googled you. I really liked you, and I wanted to know what I was getting myself into.” He smiled weakly. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you only to find out you had a secret husband or were wanted in six states.”

  I refused to let myself smile at his joke. “There’s no way you found those photos in a simple Google search. I’ve had a Google alert set up for my name for years, and I’ve never seen them.”

  “I didn’t find them right away. I had some trouble with my search at first. There were more people named Audrey Miller than I expected, so I had to try something different. I pulled some images from your social media profiles and did a reverse image search. That was when I found them.”

  “I still don’t understand. Where did you find them?”

  He shook his head. “A gross site you don’t want to know about.”

  I shuddered, not wanting to imagine what kind of site would be so gross that Max couldn’t tell me about it. “Are they still there?”

  “No, I took care of it. I called one of my friends who is … well, he’s a hacker. He broke into the site and removed your pictures. I also asked him if he could trace where they originated, but he hasn’t been able to do so thus far.”

  “Max …” I started, unsure what I wanted to say. It’s not like I didn’t believe him. Of course I believed him; he was my boyfriend. But … there was something that felt sketchy about his explanation. There was something he wasn’t telling me.

  “I don’t like you keeping things from me,” I finally said.

  “I know,” he said miserably. “And I’m sorry. I was just afraid you were going to think I was some weirdo for looking you up.”

  “Of course you looked me up. I did the same to you. Googling someone before you date them is normal. Finding out that person has a fucking stalker and then keeping that information to yourself, however, is not.”

  He nodded, swallowing so hard I saw his throat move. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry isn’t good enough. You knew how scared I was about everything that had been happening at my apartment, and you had additional information that you kept to yourself. You should have told me. We could have given that evidence to the police, and this creep, whoever he is, could be behind bars right now.”

  “The police don’t have the resources my friend does,” Max protested. “I told you, he’s working on it.”

  “Excuse me if I don’t trust your nameless, never-before-mentioned friend with my life. I mean, for God’s sake, Max, this is serious. Don’t you remember what happened to Rosalind?”

  “Audrey, that’s why I couldn’t tell you. You were so consumed with that exhibit that I knew you’d see parallels where there were none and freak out.” He took a deep breath and leaned across the table, taking my hands. “I messed up, I get it. And I’m sorry. But you have to know that I love you. I love you so
much, Audrey. I would do anything for you. Anything. I made a mistake, I see that now, but you have to believe me when I say it was a mistake that I made for you.”

  I love you. I hadn’t known until the moment he said those words just how much I’d been dying to hear them. My heart trembled and fluttered, but there was nothing I could do. Everything about the circumstances was all wrong, so completely, totally wrong.

  “Okay,” I said softly, pulling my hands away.

  “Okay?” he echoed, eyes round with hope.

  “Okay, I hear you,” I clarified. “But I need some time to think.”

  “Okay,” he said, so quietly I almost didn’t hear him as he hung his head. “Okay.”

  I pushed my chair away from the table with an earsplitting scrape and rose, slinging my purse over my shoulder. I started toward the door, but then doubled back and pressed my lips to the crown of his head, inhaling deeply and smelling the aroma of his sandalwood-scented shampoo.

  “I love you, too,” I whispered into his hair.

  Before he could respond, I walked briskly out of the coffee shop.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  CAT

  It was almost eleven o’clock by the time I left the office that night, and I’d eaten nothing other than a handful of almonds since that morning. In less than seven short hours, I would be meeting Bill, Connor, and the rest of our team at Union Station to take the six o’clock Acela to New York; the Phillips trial was scheduled to start the next morning. I had just a few final hours to practice my portion of the argument, pack, and get some sleep. The latter seemed out of the question, considering my anxiety over the argument, but I would have to try. I dreaded falling asleep on the train, drooling and head bobbing, in front of the partner I needed to impress and the man I still secretly loved.

  “Cat.”

  I jumped at the sound of my name and I whirled around on the darkened street. There, leaning against the side of the building with his face mostly obscured by shadows, was Max.

  “Max,” I said uneasily. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you, of course,” he said, flashing me a quick, humorless smile. “I need your help.”

  “I don’t know what else I can do. I already convinced Audrey to meet with you.”

  “I know, and thank you for that. But things are still all twisted. And, look, I know it’s my fault. I should have told Audrey about those pictures the second I found them, but I was so embarrassed about searching for her. And then once I got my friend involved and he hacked into that site, things got more complicated. But that’s no excuse. And I get it now. I messed up in a major way, and so I need to apologize in an even more major way.”

  I shook my head. “That’s between you and Audrey.”

  “I don’t need you to do much,” he insisted. “Just tell Audrey you’re taking her out to dinner, and instead bring her to the location of our first date. I’ll have the same meal prepared, and flowers and music and all the things I know she likes. She’ll see how much I love her. I just need your help getting her there.”

  “Your first date was in an empty building,” I reminded him. “And I don’t think Audrey is going to feel comfortable being in an empty building with you right now.”

  “Jeez,” he moaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I can’t believe how badly I’ve ruined everything.”

  His obvious anguish was uncomfortably reminiscent of how I had felt after the Hirshhorn event, when I realized I’d squandered a chance with Connor and made everything between us worse instead of better. I reached out and patted him tentatively on the shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

  He caught my hand and held it tightly, compressing the bones. “Please, Cat. You have to help me. I love Audrey so much.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I promised, carefully extracting myself from his grip. “But it will have to wait. I leave for trial tomorrow, and I’ll be out of town for the rest of the week, maybe longer.”

  “Okay,” he said, his disappointment clear. “I guess that will work. It’ll have to. Unless … Is Audrey going to be at your apartment while you’re away?”

  I hesitated. “Um … I think so.”

  “Maybe you could give me a set of your keys? I could surprise her with flowers.”

  “I don’t know,” I hedged. “Audrey hasn’t had the greatest experience with flowers lately.”

  “Something else, then. Air plants. Champagne. Animal crackers.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think surprising her with anything is a great idea. Not right now, at least. After everything that happened with her apartment and discovering she has a stalker, she’s been really on edge. She needs someplace she can feel safe.”

  Max’s expression darkened. “And you’re the only one who can make her feel safe? With the way you’re trying to keep her to yourself, it almost makes me wonder if you’re the one who’s been stalking her.”

  My mouth dropped open in surprise. “Max, that’s ludicrous.”

  “Is it? I’ve seen the way you look at Audrey.”

  “I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but—”

  “You look at her like you want to be her. Like you want to take her skin and wear it as a suit.”

  “Audrey is my best friend,” I said, aghast. “I certainly don’t want to skin her.”

  “Are you Audrey’s best friend, though?”

  I sucked in my breath. Max had hit me right where it hurt, the tender spot I didn’t think anyone else knew about. Ever since she’d taken my hand on Bid Day, Audrey had been my best friend, my only friend. I’d always known our friendship didn’t mean as much to Audrey as it did to me, and I had accepted that. Just getting to have a piece of Audrey was enough for me. And then she had moved to DC, and I had glimpsed behind the glimmering curtain, seen what it was to have Audrey’s sparkling attention focused solely on me. But just when I was starting to fully appreciate it, Max had swooped in and snatched her away from me.

  “If you were, she would have accepted your repeated offers to move in,” he added.

  My stomach lurched as I imagined Audrey telling Max I had asked her to live with me, and then the two of them laughing about it together. Cat’s so pathetic, she’s always trying to force a friendship, Audrey might have said. Careful, Max might have cautioned, you know what happened to the last girl who wouldn’t be her friend.

  “Maybe it was you,” Max continued. “Maybe you ransacked Audrey’s apartment to scare her into moving in with you.”

  “By that logic, you’re the one who trashed her apartment,” I countered. “After all, she moved in with you. How do I know that you’re not the one stalking her?”

  “I would never do anything to harm Audrey,” he said, sounding offended. “Never.”

  “Neither—”

  “Besides,” he interrupted. “I’m not the one with a history of violent jealousy.”

  I had been expecting something like this, but it felt like a blow to the stomach. “That was an accident.”

  “Sure it was, Cathy.” He cocked his head slightly. “What do you think Bill Hannover would say about it?”

  My mouth went metallic. “Are you threatening me?”

  “What would make you think that?” he asked, sneering slightly.

  Time stood still as he held my eyes, daring me to call his bluff. I swallowed hard. “Max, if I give you these keys—”

  “Everything will be fine.”

  “It better be,” I murmured. I felt sick as I handed him my key ring, but what else could I do? If Max told Bill about Emily Snow, my future at the firm would be over. Legal careers were built upon reputation, and any connection to that kind of unpleasantness would be catastrophic. I had to protect myself.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  AUDREY

  I briefly fantasized about tagging along to New York with Cat, going back to the city where I’d always felt safe and maybe never returning, but I knew I couldn’t. I couldn’t go there with the way things were—me
practically homeless, estranged from my boyfriend, and in possession of nerves so shattered that I jumped every time the wind blew—without feeling like a colossal failure.

  Instead, I helped Cat pack. As I handed her a pair of pantyhose, covering up my anxiety about her leaving with a joke about Cat being the only woman other than the Queen of England who still wore hose, she suddenly seized my hand.

  “Why don’t you call Nick?” she suggested, her expression serious.

  “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?” I asked, taken aback. “You hate Nick.”

  “I’d feel better if you weren’t in this apartment alone,” she’d said, forehead creased with worry. “Even if that means you’re staying with that awful ex-boyfriend of yours.”

  “You’re sweet to worry,” I said, patting her hand. “But I don’t trust any men right now, Nick included. They all look like goddamn stalkers. I’ll be fine here. Truly. Your apartment is so much more secure than mine.”

  Cat opened her mouth as though she was about to say something, then closed it and nodded. “Just be careful.”

  “I will,” I promised. “Everything will be fine.”

  It was something I believed—or at least wanted to believe. Still, I lay awake that entire first night alone, every innocuous creak or thump sending an electric current of terror through my body. I checked the lock on the front door at least seven times and did a sweep of all the windows twice. Everything was in order, but sleep still eluded me. I rolled my bottle of Ambien between my palms, tempted to take a pill but terrified to do so. I hadn’t had one since hearing the strange voice on the Luna Listen app, hadn’t been willing to numb myself to the world when there were creeps in it who wanted to watch me sleep. Instead, I stared at the smooth ceiling of the guest room until the first rays of morning light stretched across it, at which point I finally drifted off.

  My alarm sounded ninety minutes later, and I raised my head long enough to call in sick before going back to bed for the rest of the morning. Six hours later, I awoke energized and more than a little embarrassed at how frightened I’d been. Cat’s apartment was plainly harmless in the daylight, and I considered whether I should just go full vampire while Cat was away. I made up for my unproductive morning by responding to emails and planning some future Instagram content, and then I took a Reformer class and picked up a salad from Sweetgreen on my way home.