by Juniper Hart
“Close enough,” he replied.
Is this guy for real?
Erica looked around, as if she were expecting a crew and cameramen to jump out and announce that she was on a prank show, but she was not so lucky.
“Are you the one who sent me pics of your tits?” Walt asked, his voice grating on her as he continued snapping louder and clapping his hands to catch the waitress’ eye.
It was clear to Erica that she was deliberately ignoring him, and she took a small pleasure in that.
“Because I gotta say, your tits are awesome!” Walt continued, turning fully around to yell for the waitress. “Hey, honey! I’ve been calling you for ten minutes now!”
Erica had had enough. “I have to go,” she gasped. “You’re… I can’t… Just, wow.”
She couldn’t finish her thought coherently as she snatched her black clutch from the table and jumped from her seat.
“Woah! Wait!” Walt yelled after her, but Erica didn’t turn around, desperate to put as much distance between her and the primate at the table. She hurried up Willow Grove Road, traumatized that she had even endured five minutes with such a man, shaking her head in disbelief.
How has he not been tarred and feathered? Erica wondered, making her way to her parents’ house on Plum Street.
She shuddered, determined to shower off the entire encounter.
At least Hailey will find this amusing, she thought, not noticing the figure slowly following her slowly as she made her way home.
Her cell chimed, and Erica’s brow furrowed slightly. She didn’t recognize the number, and as she opened up the text, she froze, scowling.
It was a picture of a man’s penis.
You’re a pig, she texted back immediately.
She waited for a cocky response, but she didn’t get one, and so Erica blocked his number.
He’s pathetic, she thought, shaking her head. What is wrong with these men?
Ever since meeting Walt two days earlier, she’d been receiving obscure messages via text and email. Some had been pictures of male genitalia while others were flirty, stupid messages.
Something is wrong with this guy, she told herself, reaching for her earbuds and iPod. I should report him to all dating apps for being such a weirdo. How do these creeps get away with it? Do women ever fall for this kind of crap?
Erica sincerely hoped not.
Slipping the device into her armband, she began warming up for her jog, stretching out her arms and legs before leaving the house.
Erica jogged every morning around ten, starting at the house and doing a three-mile loop around her neighborhood. The path varied from time-to-time, depending on her mood, but Erica was a creature of habit most days, enjoying her regime as it was.
It’s worked for me for years, she reasoned as she ventured out toward the street, turning on her music. She started on the sidewalk at an even pace, her body working up to a faster stride, and soon she was almost running as she made the trek.
Abruptly, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, as if she was being watched.
Erica slowed her pace and looked around the residential neighborhood, trying to appear nonchalant, but the feeling would not subside.
Someone was undeniably staring at her.
She whirled fully around and tried to look in every direction at once, but she saw nothing.
An elderly couple was working on their garden and a young mother was chasing her toddler around their front yard. No one looked like they didn’t belong, yet Erica could not shake the sensation that she was being watched. Closely.
You’re imagining things, she told herself firmly, picking up the pace again. She chided herself for having stopped and breaking her stride, knowing she was uncharacteristically nervous. It’s because Walt has been sending you those disgusting emails and texts, she reasoned. He’s got you on edge.
However, Erica couldn’t help looking over her shoulder as she ran off back toward her house.
Darkness covered the sky at once, and Erica cringed without looking up.
Great. Now it’s going to rain, she thought. On top of everything else…
She bolted home, determined to beat the water, but the landscape had suddenly gone impossibly black. Fully sprinting now, Erica charged down her street and rushed inside the front door as the first splatter of rain pelted against the windowsills.
Thunder growled, causing Erica to start, falling back against the door, her hand on her heart.
Wow. Drama queen much? You’re turning into MJ, she chided herself, thinking of her sorority sister, who always seemed to have much more on her plate than she could handle.
Despite knowing there was no actual reason to lock the door, Erica still did it, stepping away from the threshold afterward. She couldn’t recall the last time the door had been locked in their house.
Whatever. Dateline is filled with stories about unsuspecting women who never lock their doors.
Inhaling, she took the stairs to the second floor two at a time and entered her bedroom, where a thousand knives of terror pierced her heart.
Sitting on her bed was every piece of underwear she owned, strewn over the comforter.
Gasping, Erica’s hand flew to her mouth as she whirled to look around, terrified that whoever had done this was still in the bedroom.
She willed herself to be calm, to breathe, but she was beginning to panic.
Her head jerked to the side, and dizziness overwhelmed her when she saw a pair of bright eyes peering inside the rectangular window of her bedroom.
They were not the eyes of a person, but rather a prehistoric creature with wide nostrils, flaring and angry as they looked directly into her fear-stricken eyes.
Erica fell back against the wall, tightly closing her eyelids to shut the picture out, shaking her head as she tried to come to terms with what she was seeing against the black sky backdrop.
When she looked again, the creature was gone.
You’re imagining things, she told herself, trying to still her trembling hands as she ran to her dresser to find her cell phone and call 9-1-1. The stress is putting you over the edge.
“Camden Police,” a woman answered, “what is your emergency?”
Erica took a deep breath, trying to contain her terrified gasps. “Someone broke into my home.”
The dispatcher asked for the address, and Erica could barely tell her the information she needed.
“Is the intruder still in the house?” the dispatcher asked.
“I don’t know!” Erica wailed. “I—I was just out jogging and… and…”
“What is your name, ma’am?”
“Erica.”
“Erica,” said the woman. “I’m going to need you to secure yourself outside the house now. I have officers coming to the scene, all right?”
“No!” Erica howled. “He’s outside, too! He’s been following me, and there’s this weird creature stalking my home!”
She knew she had most likely imagined the latter, but a small part of her brain wondered if she actually hadn’t.
“You know who it is, Erica?” the dispatcher asked her. “You know who broke into your home?”
“I… I think so,” she stuttered. “His name is Walt. We went on a date. Well, it wasn’t really a date. I left as soon as I realized he was a—”
She stopped speaking abruptly, trying to catch her breath. She knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“You need to remain calm. Erica,” the woman told her. “Listen to me, help is on the way, but you need to get out of the house. He may still be inside. You will be much safer if you go to a neighbor’s house and wait for us to arrive.”
“Okay,” Erica choked out. “I’m going.”
“Are you on your cell phone?” the woman asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Stay on the line with me until the police arrive, all right?”
Erica nodded, forgetting that the dispatcher couldn’t see her
, and ran down the stairs, suffocating on fear.
He’s probably harmless, she tried to reassure herself, struggling for some semblance of control. He thinks he’s being sexy or something.
But she had heard enough horror stories to know that nothing good could come out of Walt knowing where she lived.
She reached the front door, wind whipping the rain against the windows, and Erica felt like she was in a Hitchcock film. Her hands shook as she twisted the lock, pulling the knob inward.
Walt stood on the stoop, his dark blond hair plastered to his face.
“Hi, Erica,” he said conversationally, and Erica screamed.
She moved too slowly, trying to slam the door in his face. Far away, she heard the dispatch calling her name as Walt stuck his foot in the door and reached out for her. Howling, Erica lashed out, kicking him, but he seemed to anticipate her moves.
“The police are coming!” she cried. “You’re going to be caught!”
Walt slammed the door and seized her shoulders, his hazel eyes boring into hers.
“Get yourself together!” he yelled. “I am the police! Calm the hell down!”
Confusion, consternation, and skepticism flooded Erica’s body as she gaped at him. He nodded at her, solidly holding her gaze.
“Look at me,” he said. “Focus.”
Erica was too perplexed to understand anything, but she watched as Walt reached down on the floor and grabbed her cell phone.
“Dispatch, this is Detective Lahey, badge number 10823. First on the scene at the Taylor residence.”
He listened, nodded his head, and disconnected the call, turning back to Erica, who continued gawking at him in shock.
“You… you’re a cop? You’re stalking me and you’re a cop?” she gasped, looking for an escape.
Walt scowled. “I’m not stalking you, Erica,” he sighed, shaking his head in annoyance. “I’m trying to protect you.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. “By breaking into my house and—”
“I don’t have time to squabble with you,” he interjected, grabbing her arm. “Get outside and wait for patrol. I have to ensure the intruder’s gone.”
Without waiting for her to respond, he reopened the front door and shoved her out into the rain just as the squad cars came squealing to the residence.
“Are you all right, miss? Are you Erica?” the first uniformed officer asked, and she nodded numbly. “Come and wait in the car,” he instructed, leading her away from the front door. “Detective Lahey is inside?”
Again, Erica bobbed her head.
The uniformed officer led her toward the flashing lights of the car through the driving storm, and Erica could do little else but wait for instructions.
After what seemed like an eternity, she saw Walt exit the house and head toward her. Her back tensed in nervousness as he opened the door and gestured for her to follow him.
“Come back inside. He’s gone now,” he told her reassuringly, but Erica still did not trust him.
“You mean you’re gone?” she snapped, refusing to move.
Walt rolled his hazel eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, exasperated. “Come inside and I’ll explain.”
She gazed up at him, gulping back her worry. He seemed sincere, but she remembered all the filthy pictures and comments she’d been emailed over the past days, and she wondered who else it could be.
“Please, Erica,” he murmured, extending his hand. “Come inside where we can talk.”
She gnawed on her lower lip and glanced around.
He won’t do anything while the other officers are here, she reasoned. If he tries anything, I’ll just scream as loudly as I can.
It was the best plan she could devise on such short notice, and reluctantly, she followed him towards the house, drops of rain splattering across her face like tiny slaps of reality.
Once inside, Walt turned to her, his expression grave. “You can’t stay here,” he told her. “We need to get you somewhere else until we catch this guy.”
Erica’s brow creased. “What is going on?” she demanded. “If you aren’t the one stalking me, then who is?”
Walt smiled thinly. “Did you happen to go on a date with a guy from IT, before you met me at the café? Called himself Jerry?”
Swallowing, Erica nodded her head. “Yes,” she whispered. “Why? What about him?”
“I hate to tell you this, Erica,” Walt said, “but he has a history of stalking women he meets online. His name is Arthur Schultz. He’s a dangerous man.”
Erica couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Wait… you knew that before you met up with me that day?” she demanded. “And you didn’t warn me?”
Walt shrugged nonchalantly. “There was nothing to warn you about yet. We have been tracking Schultz closely for some time, but given his experience with computers, he has thrown us for a loop. Our only hope is that we catch him in the act.”
Erica’s mouth dropped open, and she stared at him in shock. “You used me as bait?” she shrieked. “Then why didn’t you catch him?”
“Because I was following you, Erica, not him.”
Suddenly, a shiver of apprehension slithered through her body as she remembered the sensation of being followed. She hadn’t imagined that, after all.
“Why were you so rude to me?” she asked.
“It was an act,” Walt explained. “I was trying to keep you from Jerry, not trying to make you fall in love with me.”
A silence ensued between them.
“You can’t stay here,” Walt said again. “Your family is at risk.”
Erica scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest.
“So I have to hide until you maybe, possibly, perhaps arrest this guy?” she questioned. “I don’t think so.”
But even as she said the words, she knew there was no way she was staying at her house now that Jerry—Arthur Schultz—knew where to find her.
“What about my parents?” she asked.
“They’re going to be fine. He’s after you, not them,” Walt answered. “We will put you up in a hotel,” he told her quietly. “I have no doubt that he has been watching us. He’s not going to let up just because you called the police. In fact, you may have made him angry by calling us. He’s going to come after you again, and when he does, I intend to be there.”
Erica cocked her dark head to the side and peered at him. “What makes you think you can catch him this time? You haven’t been successful so far.”
Walt seemed embarrassed by the question, but Erica didn’t apologize for it. She had a right to know about her safety, and she wanted to know what she planned to do in order to catch her stalker.
“I’m going to be with you the whole time,” he murmured. “I’m going to stay in the room with you.”
Erica’s jaw dropped open once more, her blue eyes wide with disbelief.
“You must be joking!” she screeched, remembering their two-minute date. The thought of spending any amount of time with the arrogant cop was more than she could bear. Sure, he’d said it had all been an act, but what if not all of it had been fake?
“It’s the only way to ensure your safety and catch him,” Walt said. “Think about the other women he’s done this to, Erica. And if we don’t get him, think of how many more there might be.”
The words sent chills through Erica’s body, and she studied his face with contempt as she came to a decision.
Those other women are going to owe me big-time for this, she thought sourly, but she knew that there was no debate; she had to go through with the operation.
“This is never going to work,” Erica grumbled, pacing around the small hotel room. “He’s going to know you’re here. If he’s been watching so far—”
“We have secured the perimeter several times,” Walt assured her. “We believe that he’s been tracking you electronically, anyway. He doesn’t need physical eyes on you to have eyes on you, if that makes any sense.”
Erica grunted in frustration. “We’ve been holed up here for two days and nothing has happened,” she groaned. “He hasn’t sent another text or email. Maybe you guys scared him off when you came to the house.”
“This fits with his MO,” Walt told her, and Erica could tell he was attempting to keep his patience.
He has no right to be annoyed with me, Erica thought. After all, she was the one wasting her summer vacation away, waiting for something to happen. She stared at the detective, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. And somehow all the communications just stopped when Walt reappeared.
She eyed his ripped physique through her peripheral vision as she strode through the room impatiently.
It’s a damned shame he’s such a jerk, she lamented, trying not to stare at him openly. He’s incredibly good looking.
Erica did not want to admit that Walt had not once shown any signs of the arrogant bastard whom she had met the previous week.
Even if that was an act to keep me at bay, he obviously has it in him, she thought, but as the hours together ticked by, she couldn’t deny that she had a mounting attraction to Walt. She’d had ever since she had laid eyes on him, though that had been slightly dampened by his attitude at the café.
Now, though…
Well, don’t get too comfortable, she chastised herself. Because you two will soon say goodbye and that will be the end of that.
“I’m going to Wendy’s,” Walt announced, and she stared at him.
“What?”
“I’m going to Wendy’s,” he repeated. “Do you want something?”
“You’re leaving me here?” she snapped. “I thought the whole purpose of you being here was staying by my side!”
“I will be ten minutes,” he retorted. “And there are units on all entrances.”
Erica folded her arms across her chest and shrugged. “Fine. Go.”
He grunted and spun to leave while Erica shook her head at his retreating back.
Some security, she thought contemptuously as he stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.
Erica flopped onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. This is absolutely pointless, she thought to herself furiously. When Walt gets back, I’m telling him I’m going home.
