From her window, it was possible to see Ken's parking spot. Predictably, the man drove a red Corvette, and at one thirty on the dot, he pulled in. She half expected him to drop by as soon as he entered the building, but to her relief, he didn't appear. Nor did he swing by later, even to visit the paralegals. When he remained a no-show at five, she reminded herself not to stay late. She closed down her MacBook and gathered paper copies of her files, loading it all into her bag. Peeking out the window, she did a quick double take when she realized that Ken's car was already gone for the day.
Whatever. Tomorrow would likely bring more surprises.
Leaving her office, she said good-bye to Jill and headed for her car. As always, she went around to the passenger-side door first so she could put her bag on the seat, but as soon as she pulled it open, she let out an inadvertent cry.
The bouquet of roses, already shriveling in the heat, was fanned neatly across the seat, as if trying to taunt her.
Colin sat across from her in her living room, his elbows on his knees. Maria had called him right after throwing the roses back into the Dumpster, and he'd been waiting at her door when she got home.
"I don't get it," she said, still feeling flushed and panicky. "What does Ken want?"
"You know what he wants."
"And he thinks this is the best way to get it? By sending me flowers and a weird unsigned note? And by stuffing the roses back in my car and freaking me out?"
"I can't answer that," Colin said. "I think the real question is what you're going to do about it." He continued to hold her gaze, unmoving, but the tensing of his jaw made it clear that he was as disturbed by the whole thing as she was.
"I don't know that there's anything I can do. The note was unsigned and I didn't actually watch him put the roses in my car. I can't prove any of it."
"And you're positive it was Ken?"
"Who else could it be? There was no one else around."
"Are you sure?"
She opened her mouth to reply but quickly closed it because she hadn't even considered the alternative. Just because she hadn't seen anyone else didn't mean there actually had been no one else, but the idea was too frightening to contemplate.
"It's him," she said. "It has to be him." But even to her own ears, it almost sounded like she was trying to convince herself.
CHAPTER 15
Colin
Colin spent the night with Maria. Though she hadn't asked him to stay, he'd known that she hadn't wanted him to leave. She'd been on edge most of the evening, unable to eat, and he could sense her mind drifting off. After she'd finally fallen asleep, he lay awake staring at the ceiling, trying to put the pieces together. She'd told him enough about Ken to give Colin a pretty good picture, and he'd been fighting the urge ever since to pay the man a visit. The sexual harassment was bad enough, but Ken was a bully as well, and Colin knew from his own experience that people like that didn't stop abusing their power unless someone made them. Or put the fear of God into them.
However, Maria had made it clear that she didn't want Colin to talk to Ken or even go anywhere near him, if only for Colin's own good. Colin understood that: The man was a well-known lawyer, and even a credible threat might be enough to put Colin behind bars. He had no doubt that Margolis and the local judges would make sure of that.
Still, the situation had felt more confusing the more they'd talked about it. The note, combined with the fact that the roses had been placed in her car, felt like a threat. It felt personal, and while Ken had trouble controlling his libido and had been standing at the window, the rest of it didn't add up. What was the point of the note? How had Ken known Maria would decide to throw the roses away at that moment? Or if Ken had planned to put them in the car, why had he continued to stand in the window, knowing that Maria would no doubt assume he was guilty? He had to know that scaring Maria would make it more likely that she'd report his harassment. And what if another employee in the office had noticed him retrieving the roses from the garbage and placing them in Maria's car? Would he have been willing to take that kind of risk? Most of the offices had windows.
All of which meant... what? If Ken had done it, he'd slipped off the mental building ledge and was plummeting toward the ground, obviously unable to think clearly. And if it wasn't Ken?
That was the question that bothered him most.
When Maria woke in the morning, Colin offered to follow her in to work, but she told him that she'd be fine. It wasn't until he was driving back to Evan's that he realized he was as edgy about the whole thing as she'd been the night before. Angry, even, and as soon as he got home, he tossed on his workout gear and was out the door.
He went for a run and put the music volume on high, picking up his pace until his breathing grew labored. When he finally felt drained of his anger, he experienced a slowly emerging clarity.
He'd do what Maria asked and stay away from Ken, but that didn't mean that he was willing to sit back and do nothing.
No one was going to frighten Maria and get away with it.
"Have either of you considered calling the police?" Evan asked.
They were at the table in Evan's kitchen, a few minutes after Colin had offered Evan the CliffsNotes version of all that had happened, including what he planned to do.
Colin shook his head. "The police won't do anything."
"But someone broke into her car."
"Her car was unlocked, the windows were open, nothing was taken, and there was no damage. The first thing they'll ask is, what's the crime? And then they'll ask who did it, and all she'll be able to offer is her opinions."
"What about the message? Aren't there stalking laws?"
"The note is weird, but there's no clear threat. And there's no proof that the person who sent the flowers was the same person who put them in her car."
"I sometimes forget that you've had a lot of experience in this area. But I'm still not sure why you think you need to take care of it."
"I don't need to do it. I want to."
"And what if Maria doesn't like your plan?" When Colin didn't answer, Evan waved a hand. "Because you plan on telling her, right? Since you're all about honesty?"
"It's not that big of a deal."
"You didn't answer my question."
"Yes, I'll tell her."
"When?"
"Today."
"And if she asks you not to?"
When Colin didn't answer, Evan sat up straighter.
"You'll do it anyway. Because you've already made your decision, am I correct?"
"I want to know what's going on."
"You do know that this is what you've done in the past, right? Do whatever the hell you want, your future be damned?"
"I'm making phone calls. I'll talk to people." Colin shrugged. "It's not illegal."
"No argument there. But I'm talking about what you might decide to do afterwards."
"I know what I'm doing."
"Do you?"
When Colin didn't respond right away, Evan leaned back in his seat. "Did I tell you that Lily wants the four of us to go out together this weekend?"
"No."
"She was thinking Saturday night. She wants to meet Maria."
"Okay."
"Shouldn't you check with Maria first?"
"I'll talk to her, but I'm sure she'll be fine with it. What are you thinking about doing?"
"Dinner. And then afterwards, we'll find someplace fun. I think all those lessons put her in the mood to go dancing."
"Salsa dancing?"
"She says I don't have the rhythm for it. It'll be some other kind of dancing."
"At a club?"
"Since you obviously escaped without trouble last time, Lily's of the opinion that you can do it again."
"Okay."
"I have another question, though." Colin waited as Evan stared across the table at him. "What happens if you do find the guy?"
"I'll talk to him."
"Even if it's her boss?" When Colin didn't an
swer, Evan shook his head. "I knew I was right."
"Right about what?"
"You don't have the slightest idea what you're getting into."
While Colin understood that Evan was worried, he didn't think his concern was justified. How hard could it be to figure out whether Ken sent the roses? All it would take was a few phone calls, some pointed questions, and a photo... Lord knows he'd been on the receiving end of countless interrogations, and he knew that getting answers was often about presence and expectation and sounding official. Most people wanted to talk; most people couldn't shut up, even when it was in their best interest. He figured that if he was lucky, he'd have his answer by midafternoon.
In the kitchen back at his place, he opened his computer and did a quick search for Ken Martenson. Not hard to find--the guy was even more connected than Colin expected--but there were fewer photos than he'd thought there would be, and none were what he really wanted; too far away, too blurry. Even the photo on the firm website had to be at least ten years old--at the time, Ken had a goatee, which altered his appearance to a significant degree. Colin would have to take his own photo, he decided. Except he didn't have a high-quality camera with a telephoto lens. He doubted whether Evan had a decent camera, either; Evan wouldn't have spent the money. The guy was tighter than a tick.
But Maria had one.
He called her cell and left a message asking if she was free for lunch. By the time she texted him back to see whether he could meet at half past noon, he was in class. But as he read her text, the professor droning on in the background, he realized that he'd been holding more tension in his neck than he'd noticed.
He forced himself to take deep, steady breaths.
"You want to borrow my camera?"
They were seated on the outdoor patio of a small cafe, waiting for their food to arrive. Though Colin hadn't eaten since the night before, he wasn't hungry.
"Yes." Colin nodded.
"Why?"
"I need a photo of Ken."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"The only way to know for sure who ordered the flowers is to find the florist. I can then show the florist the photo and ask if he's the one who bought them."
"What if he ordered by phone?"
"If he paid with a credit card, I'll get the name."
"They won't give it to you."
"Maybe. Maybe not. I'd still like to borrow your camera."
Maria debated before shaking her head. "No."
"Why not?"
"For starters, he's my boss. He also knows what you look like, and if he sees you, it's only going to get worse for me around there. Besides, I saw Ken this morning and I have the sense it's already over."
"You saw him?"
"He came to talk to Barney and me about one of our cases first thing in the morning. To let us know he'd heard that it was finally on the docket."
"You didn't mention that when I called..."
"I didn't know I had to."
He caught the first hint of frustration creeping into her tone.
"How did he act?"
"It was fine," she stated. "He was normal."
"And you weren't bothered when he showed up?"
"Of course I was. My heart practically jumped out of my chest, but what could I do? Barney was right there. But Ken didn't try to talk to me alone, and he didn't spend any time with the paralegals, either. He was all business."
Colin clasped his hands together beneath the table. "With or without your camera, I'm going to find out who sent you the flowers."
"I don't need you to solve my problems, Colin."
"I know."
"Then why are we still talking about this?"
Colin kept his expression steady. "Because you still don't know with any certainty that Ken was the one who did it. You're making an assumption."
"It's not an assumption."
"Would it be so wrong to make sure?"
There was a time, Colin knew, when he wouldn't have given a damn about any of this. There was no reason to get involved. She was right, after all. It was her problem, and frankly, he had enough problems of his own.
However, Colin considered himself an expert in anger. And at its heart, that's what this was all about. At the hospital, he'd learned the differences between overt and covert anger; in his own life, he'd been well versed in both. At the bars, when he was in the mood to fight, his anger had been overt. His agenda was clear, with no hidden meanings, no shame, and no regret. In the first couple of weeks at the hospital, though, he hadn't been able to act out in any way if he became angry. The doctors had made it clear that if he became violent--if he so much as raised his voice--he'd end up in the acute care ward, which meant being stuck in a communal room with a dozen other people, and mandatory lithium in doses that made him feel dull, while doctors and nurses watched his every move. That was the last thing he wanted. Instead, he'd pushed his anger down, trying to keep it hidden, but after a while he realized that the anger didn't go away. Instead, it simply transformed from overt to covert. Subconsciously, he began to manipulate people; he sensed exactly what buttons needed to be pressed to piss someone off, and he jabbed at those buttons until they finally blew. One by one, others were sent to the acute care ward while he played innocent, until his doctor finally called him on what he'd been doing. Countless hours of therapy later, Colin finally understood that anger was anger, whether overt or covert, and equally destructive either way.
That's what someone was acting out here, he thought. Anger with the intent to manipulate. Whoever it was wanted Maria's emotions to start going haywire, and while it was covert for now, he sensed this was only the beginning.
To Colin's mind, that made Ken even less likely as a suspect, but then it was the only name he had. No choice but to start there. After Maria reluctantly handed him the key to her condo at the end of lunch, he drove to her place and retrieved the camera. He turned it on, making sure the batteries had enough juice, and ran through the various settings. Checked the zoom and took some shots off her balcony before realizing that he really needed to shoot faces to know how close he'd have to be.
After tucking the key into a planter pot near the door as instructed, he drove to the beach, where no one would think twice about a man with a camera. It wasn't crowded, but there were enough people around for him to get what he needed, and he spent an hour photographing people from various distances. In the end, he calculated that he could be no more than fifty yards away. Good, but not great. Ken might still be able to recognize him. He'd need a vantage point where he wouldn't be spotted.
Most of the historical buildings on either side of the block where Maria's office stood were two or three stories tall, with flat roofs. Cars lined both sides of the street, and though there were a few trees, none was big enough to hide behind. The foot traffic was not heavy but steady; remaining inconspicuous while hunkering down for an hour or more with a camera in hand was pretty much out of the question.
Raising his gaze, he focused on the buildings he'd just walked past, the ones opposite the office entrance. The distance was good and the angle was perfect, but it raised the question of how--or even if--he could get up there.
He recrossed the street, hoping to find a fire escape. Modern two-to three-story buildings didn't have them, and as soon as he reached the narrow alley that ran behind the block, he realized he was half-lucky. The buildings directly opposite the law office had no roof access, but the three-story building next to those had an old-fashioned drop-down ladder ten or eleven feet up that led to a metal landing on the second floor. Tough but not impossible to reach, and though the angle the building offered wasn't ideal, it was his best and only bet. Heading down the alley, he put the strap around his neck and tucked the camera beneath his shirt. He took a couple of explosive steps toward the wall, hoping to use it as a springboard to launch himself even higher and gain the last few inches he knew he'd need.
He did it just right, grabbing on to the bottom rung with both hands. Wi
th a hard jerk upward, he got one hand on the next rung up, repeating the process until he reached the landing. Thankfully, the ladder was attached to the building above that, and a few moments later, he was on the roof. Down on the street, no one appeared to have noticed him.
So far, so good.
He made his way to the corner closest to Maria's office. The lip of the roof was low--no more than six inches--but some cover was better than none. Thankfully the gravel was smooth here; there were no big pebbles, though these were scattered everywhere else. There were a bunch of gum wrappers though, and as he got into position on his stomach, he brushed those away. He aimed the camera and settled in to wait. To his surprise, he could actually see Maria as she worked at her desk in her office; he could also make out her car and, beyond that, the garbage bins. Her car was parked in her usual spot, and a few spots down he saw Ken's Corvette.
A bit more than an hour later, the first people in the office began to stream out, usually one at a time, but sometimes in pairs. Paralegals--and yes, as Maria had mentioned, all of them were attractive--a couple of guys in their forties, Maria's friend Jill. Several other people, followed a few minutes later by Maria. He followed her with the lens, thinking that she was moving more slowly than usual. When she reached the corner of the building, she glanced around, no doubt trying to find him. He watched her forehead form a frown before she finally headed to her car.
Focusing on the entrance again, he still saw no sign of Ken. Just when he began to wonder whether the onset of dusk would blur the detail he wanted, Ken finally pushed through the door. Colin held his breath, snapped off a dozen photos before Ken turned into the parking lot, then rolled to his side to examine the images, hoping that one or two would be good enough.
They were.
He waited until Ken pulled away before getting up and making his way down from the roof the same way he'd gone up. Again, no one appeared to notice him, and by the time he reached his car, dusk was settling in. He stopped at a drugstore on the way home and selected two of the photos for processing before heading back to Maria's.
He'd promised to bring her camera back.
"No wonder I couldn't find you," she said to him later, the photos on her kitchen table. "So tomorrow..."
See Me Page 22