Pat shook his head. “He’s more than a little unbalanced. How does he know you? And I still don’t understand how either of you knew where we were.”
“Zachary is a private investigator,” Mr. Peterson pointed out.
“We had help. When I got this,” Zachary gestured to the phone, “and I couldn’t get ahold of you, we got the police and FBI involved. Kenzie managed to convince them to track your phone locations. I’m sorry. I was worried he might have already done something… that you might be in real danger.”
“Don’t apologize,” Mr. Peterson said, smiling and shaking his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I invaded your privacy…”
“You did the right thing,” he said firmly. “Pat’s not accusing you of doing anything wrong.”
Pat shook his head. “Just trying to understand how it all went down. I’m pretty good with technology, but I don’t understand how someone goes from being a cyberbully to actually finding us in real life. When we’re somewhere like this, away from home. You went through the police, with legitimate concerns, but that’s obviously not what he did.”
“Did either of you get any strange emails or texts recently? Something with an attachment?”
They looked at each other.
“No, I don’t think so,” Mr. Peterson said. “The most unusual thing I got recently was that new social networking site you sent me.”
Zachary shook his head. “I didn’t send you anything.”
“It was some professional referrals network. ‘Click here if you would recommend Zachary Goldman Investigations.’ So I did, of course.”
“Well… thank you… but I didn’t send that and I haven’t joined any networking sites lately. That must have been it. You clicked on the link, and it installed a tracking program on your phone. Told Devon exactly where to find you at any time.”
“They can do that?” Mr. Peterson sat back in his chair, shaking his head. “Well. Isn’t that something.”
“I’m so sorry he targeted you. I never thought that anyone would ever try to use you to get to me.”
“Not to worry. No harm done.” The man shrugged.
“But he came here to punish you. He brought his gun. He wanted to hurt you.”
“Maybe, but deep down, I don’t think he could. He couldn’t make the leap from anonymous bullying to actually meting out punishment face-to-face.”
“He killed Richard Harding.”
“Physically? Face-to-face?”
“Well… no. Bullied him until he committed suicide.”
Mr. Peterson made a gesture that indicated Zachary had just confirmed his point.
The cop in charge approached the table. His name bar said Buck, and he had heavy jowls like a bulldog.
“I need a little move information from you folks, if I could.” Though his words were deferential, his manner was aggressive. Clearly indicating he was in charge. They all nodded they would cooperate.
“When Devon approached you,” he directed the question to Pat and Mr. Peterson, “did he threaten you? Did he tell you he had a weapon on him?”
Mr. Peterson shook his head. “No, he never made any threats. I didn’t know there was any danger until I saw Zachary’s reaction to him. When he said to stop, and Zachary froze there… I knew this wasn’t just an old foster kid trying to reconnect.”
“And to you?” Buck looked at Zachary. “Did he tell you he had a gun? Did he tell you he was going to shoot someone?”
“No. Just the email I showed you, with Mr. Peterson’s face crossed out. I found out when I talked to the police that he had a concealed carry permit, and when I got here and he confronted me, he had his hand in the apron pocket, where the gun was.”
“But he didn’t tell you he was going to shoot or hold you at gunpoint.”
“No. But he’s involved in a homicide in Vermont. A man he was harassing online.”
“He was involved how?”
“He was stalking him and sending him harassing emails, telling him that he should kill himself… until he eventually did.”
“Well, that’s not exactly homicide, is it?”
Zachary opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. He looked at Kenzie. She was obviously reading the same thing in Buck’s manner as Zachary—that as far as he was concerned, Devon hadn’t broken the law.
“He’s been stalking me too. Sending harassing emails and messages… telling me that I should die…”
“Anything related to stalking, you’ll need to take that up with the police in your jurisdiction, which I understand is Vermont…?”’
“Yes.”
“File with the local police. Because it’s a cross-border thing, they’ll get the FBI involved, and they’ll decide whether any laws have been broken.”
“He threatened to kill Lorne. I showed you the email.”
“It’s ambiguous. It doesn’t actually say he’s going to do anything. I doubt it would ever hold up in court as a death threat.”
Zachary swallowed. “You’re not going to arrest him for anything?”
“I don’t see anything I can arrest him for. The fact that we’ve detained him will be enough for him to launch a suit against us already. It wouldn’t go anywhere, but it would be an annoyance.”
Zachary looked at Kenzie. He looked at Mr. Peterson and Pat. No one had anything to offer. Kenzie gave a shrug and shook her head.
“I don’t know, Zachary. We can call Campbell, but… I can’t think of anything else we can do.”
“So he stalks my—my—friend, threatens to kill him, brings a gun, and it isn’t anything? There’s nothing to charge him with? He can just go?”
“They’re going to let him go. Let’s take some time to relax and calm down, and then we’ll call Campbell and see if there is anything he can do. Okay?”
Zachary buried his face in his hands, unable to let them see his fury and grief at the injustice of it.
For a while he just swam in the darkness, the quiet conversation of the others going on around him.
When he finally got control of himself and pulled his hands away from his face, determined to remain cool and aloof, Buck was gone. All of the police were gone. Pat’s and Mr. Peterson’s drinks were finished. Kenzie sat with one foot up on her chair, knee bent. She turned her head to look at him, but didn’t say anything or make a big deal of his meltdown.
After a while, Zachary cleared his throat. “Guess we should be getting on our way. We’ve probably already kept you here longer than you meant to be.”
Mr. Peterson shrugged, looking around at their surroundings. “It’s a nice peaceful place—at least most of the time we were here. It’s not exactly a hardship.”
“I never pictured you as a spa sort of guy.” Even in his drained emotional state, Zachary couldn’t help the little tug at the corner of his mouth. Mr. Peterson had never had the exaggerated effeminate mannerisms popularized by gay characters on television.
“It took some talking to get him to agree,” Pat advised. “But I told him this was what I wanted for Christmas and I finally managed to talk him into it.”
“It was actually okay, though.” Mr. Peterson put his hand over Pat’s on the table briefly. “Next time you won’t have to work quite so hard to convince me.”
“I hope not. Though, don’t expect the floor show next time.”
They both laughed. Zachary wasn’t quite up to seeing the humor in the situation. He shook his head, worrying it over in his mind. If the police wouldn’t arrest Devon, how could Zachary ever be sure that the people around him would be safe?
“Zachary, why don’t you and Kenzie come back to the house for supper? It’s much closer than going home,” Pat suggested.
“I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“It’s not. We’ll put a couple of frozen pizzas in the oven and use disposable plates. No fuss. Give you some time to relax and recover.”
“That sounds good,” Kenzie agreed. She nodded to Zachary to
encourage him to accept the invitation. “I don’t want you driving all the way back yet. You must be exhausted, I know I am.”
Zachary’s body ached from holding every muscle tense and his brain felt wrung out. He could drive, but maybe it wasn’t the best idea. If he had something to eat and some more time to relax before going any distance, that might be better.
“You really want to eat something like pizza after a spa day?” he asked. “Isn’t the whole point to cleanse your systems or detox or whatever? Are you allowed to eat pizza?”
“We’re allowed,” Mr. Peterson said, so firmly it made them all laugh. He might give in to going to the spa at his partner’s insistence, but he wasn’t giving up his pizza.
“It’s settled, then,” Pat said. He glanced toward the juice bar. “You need something to boost your blood sugar before hitting the road, Zachary?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
T
he three of them talked Zachary into a strawberry mango smoothie to replenish the calories he had burned off with the adrenaline-fueled rush to get there and facing down his opponent over a gun. Zachary put it into the cupholder in his car and sipped it occasionally along the way. He wasn’t hungry, but it was sweet and refreshing and everybody insisted he needed something. Zachary hadn’t heard what was in the dark purple concoction Kenzie had chosen, but she seemed to enjoy it. It was all gone before they reached Mr. Peterson’s house.
Kenzie looked over the brick bungalow and smiled. “What a nice little place. It suits them.”
“You should see it during the spring when the flowers are out. Pat has pink tulips in the borders.”
“That’s great. They’re a really nice couple, I can see why you get along so well.”
Pizza suited everyone. Mr. Peterson, Pat, and Kenzie seemed to be completely relaxed and unworried, not even thinking about Devon, but Zachary found himself unable to sit still. He prowled around the house, looking out the windows and rechecking the locks on the doors.
“You should sit down and relax,” Kenzie said. “What are you so worried about?”
“They just let Devon go. He could come here. He could be here now. If he decides he wants to do something to Mr. Peterson… he’ll be a sitting duck.”
“Devon is not going to come here. Not now, when everybody knows his identity. He met Lorne face-to-face and knows what a nice guy he is. Devon couldn’t do anything to hurt him. You don’t need to worry. It’s over.”
Zachary looked out the dark windows. There were Christmas lights on all sides of the house, which didn’t help calm his anxiety at all.
“He could be out there now.”
“He isn’t.”
Zachary paced the house, looking out each window. When he returned to the living room, Kenzie and Mr. Peterson were talking in low voices, and their glances toward Zachary told him they had been discussing him.
“I’m not being paranoid,” he asserted.
“You’re the expert,” Mr. Peterson said, no hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I was wondering whether we could persuade you to stay overnight. I thought maybe you would feel better if you could stay and see that everything was okay.”
Zachary considered. He thought initially that they were just trying to placate him, but he could detect no eye-rolling or false front. The last time, he had felt better after staying over, rather than being anxious at being away from his own bed. He paced restlessly into the kitchen and looked out at the back yard, but there was no sign of trouble.
“I guess we could stay, if Kenzie is okay with it.” He looked at her with eyebrows raised. Kenzie nodded.
“Sure. I’ve already let Dr. Wiltshire know I’m taking a couple of extra days for my holidays. I’m game.”
“Then… just one other thing…”
“If you think there’s a problem, we’ll listen to you,” Mr. Peterson promised, trying to anticipate what the condition would be.
Zachary rubbed his forehead, trying to disguise his embarrassment. “Could you put the candles away?”
“Oh!” Pat looked around at the various decorative groupings, which included a number of red and white Christmas candles. They weren’t lit, but they were still ratcheting up Zachary’s anxiety. “Sorry, Zach! If I’d known you were coming, I would have had those cleared away earlier.” He got up and immediately started removing the candles and readjusting the spacing of the decorations to make up for their lack. “What about all the rest? The tree…?”
Zachary eyed the brightly-lit tree. He’d been doing his best to ignore it, focusing on keeping everyone safe from Devon. But it was one of the reasons he couldn’t sit down and be comfortable in the living room.
He folded his arms across his chest, the best he could do to put a barrier between himself and the tree.
“It’s okay. But if we could… turn off the lights before bed. Just in case.”
Mr. Peterson was the closest to the tree. He leaned over and fished around until he caught the cord for the lights. He pulled the plug. The tree went dark. Zachary breathed out a slow sigh of relief. A cold, dark tree was infinitely better than one all lit up, with hundreds of ignition points around the tinder-dry needles and branches.
“You could have said something earlier,” Mr. Peterson admonished.
Zachary’s cheeks warmed. “I don’t like to ruin things for everyone else just because of my issues. I can still enjoy myself around a Christmas tree.”
As long as it was after Christmas Eve. Or clear of all sources of ignition.
“You’re okay to stay over?” Kenzie asked.
“Yes. Sure. That would be good.”
He carried an emergency supply of pills with him just in case he ended up in a situation where he could not get back to his apartment to get them. The second fire, his apartment fire, had taught him that. If he had a panic attack or couldn’t get home for some reason, he needed to have a few things with him, to make sure he could get through the night.
But he didn’t take anything to help him sleep. He was too worried about Devon breaking in during the night. Mr. Peterson needed a burglar alarm. He didn’t have anything, not even a door chime or broken glass detectors. Zachary would have to see to it that the situation was remedied. That could be his gift to Mr. Peterson. A security system that would help to keep him safe from lowlifes who might target him because of Zachary.
“You need to get some sleep,” Kenzie urged. She had borrowed a t-shirt from Pat to wear as a nightshirt and was reading in bed, waiting for Zachary to settle down and join her. He had told her several times to just go to sleep without him, but she seemed to think she could outlast him.
“I can go one night without,” Zachary countered. “It’s not going to hurt me.”
“I thought one of the reasons to come here and to sleep over was to make sure that you could get some rest. Prowling around the house isn’t going to help.”
“I need to be sure.”
“You’re planning on staying up all night?”
Zachary nodded. He waited for her to tell him that he was being ridiculous and nothing would happen if he went to sleep.
“Do you want to take turns, so you can at least get a few hours?”
He was pleasantly surprised. “I’d say yes, but… I don’t think I’d be able to sleep anyway, so you may as well get yours. No point in both of us being short. I’ll sleep during the day tomorrow when everyone is up.”
But he knew he wouldn’t. It was too late in the year. He was too close to the edge of the abyss.
Kenzie shook her head. “Are you sure it isn’t just because you don’t trust me to do a good enough job? You’re afraid that I’ll miss something or fall asleep during my shift?”
“No. There just isn’t any point, when I’m going to be awake anyway.”
“Okay.” Kenzie gave a big yawn. “I guess I’d better knock off. If something worries you, will you wake me up? Or if you start feeling… bad.”
“If it gets too bad,” Zachary said, not quite confessin
g that he was already feeling pretty desperate. But he had purpose. He needed to stay awake and alive to look after his family. He couldn’t let Mr. Peterson suffer because he was too self-absorbed.
Kenzie looked at him steadily for a minute.
“Why don’t you leave your pills in here?” She motioned to the side table on her side of the bed. Zachary didn’t bother to argue. He retrieved them from the bathroom, and put them beside Kenzie.
“Is there anything else I should be concerned about?” she asked.
“No. I need to keep Mr. Peterson safe. I’m not going to do anything.”
“Your brain can do strange things when you get overtired. You come and wake me up, got it? If you start hallucinating or having suicidal thoughts or anything unexpected, you come wake me up.”
“Okay.”
“And stay off of the computer and email.”
He nodded his agreement. He didn’t need any extra nudges toward the edge. “My computer is in here.” He gestured to it. “I’ll leave my phone here… no. I’m going to keep my phone with me. If I need to wake you up and can’t get back here…”
Kenzie nodded. “Fine. I’ll keep mine on right here, in case you call or text.” She picked it up and tapped the screen a few times. “I’ve turned off ‘do not disturb.’ So you can disturb me.”
“Have a good sleep.” He leaned down to her, pausing with their faces just an inch apart. He could feel her warm breath on his lips. “Sweet dreams.”
He kissed her gently. Kenzie wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close, lengthening out the kiss.
“I was hoping for some action tonight,” she said, indicating the empty space on the bed and giving a conspiratorial smile.
“I have to watch,” Zachary said, looking toward the dark window. “I’m sorry.”
She reached over and turned the reading lamp off. With the room in darkness, Zachary could see what was outside the window much more clearly. He walked over to it and stood looking out for a few minutes, watching for any movement or sign of anything that was out of place.
“Sweet dreams,” he told Kenzie again, and left her in the bedroom alone.
He was Walking Alone Page 24
