by Cindy Combs
Watching Blair softly soothe his brother, a sharp jab of jealousy pierced his heart. He was so envious of the younger man's easy relationship with Jim. A selfish part of him felt that he should be the one helping his brother. Yet Steven was honest enough to admit that it was his own fault that he'd lost that place by Jim's side. He should be glad Blair knew how to help his brother and leave it at that. Shoving the jealousy away, he focused on Jim.
Jim blinked to find two pairs of worried eyes riveted on him. He closed his own eyes again to rub his temples. "I hate it when that happens."
"Are you okay now?" Steven asked quietly, wondering just how often 'that' happened.
"A bit of a headache, but I'll survive." Jim forced his head up. "Where are those letters?" Blair rolled his eyes and pushed the folder towards his partner.
Knowing a misdirection tactic when he saw it, Steven sighed and played along. "I also have that list you asked for earlier." He bent over to pick up his briefcase as the waitress arrived.
Once they had given their drink orders to the waitress, Jim quickly began scanning the letters. He didn't like what he read. The tone of the letters was intimate and flirty, implying a relationship that wasn't there. Thankfully, there was nothing threatening within them, but he could see why his reserved brother was so uncomfortable. Taking a deep breath, Jim noted the faint scent of a light musk fragrance lingering on the letters.
"You've been getting these for about three months?" Blair asked, reading each one as Jim finished and passed it to him.
Steven nodded. "There weren't very many at first. At least a week would go by before I'd get another one. Since I'm so busy, I really didn't think much about them."
"In this one folder, the dates are about a week apart," Blair commented as he compared the earlier two with the two Jim had just passed him.
Checking the dates on the small stack in front of him, Jim commented, "Yet these in Ms. Lancin's folder seem to be coming about one per day."
"They are now," Steven confirmed. "That's why when she suggested I talk to the police, I thought maybe I should."
"Yeah, the letter writer's definitely escalated." Blair tapped the notes in front of him as he thought. "Not only in frequency, but in content. More intimate, more knowledgeable of you and your life."
"I just don't get it." Blair looked up to see Steven shift in his chair, the slight blush on his cheeks indicating his unease. "Why me?"
"Well, if this is an erotomanic, which is likely since you don't know who it is, they usually fixate on someone they see as an authority figure or of a higher class than themselves." Blair indicated Steve's smart shirt and tie with a hand. "You dress nicely, are a rising business man of a successful company, and come from a good, upper class family. You would be considered a tempting target."
"What's an 'erotomanic'?" Steven asked, curious in spite of himself.
"It's a type of delusional disorder, where a person is deluded into thinking he or she is loved by another person. It's only been recognized recently as a separate disorder, because it's usually considered secondary to another mental disorder like schizophrenia."
"So this person falsely thinks I love her?" Steven asked, praying the person after him wasn't schizophrenic as well. "But if she thinks I love her, why not contact me?"
Blair paused a moment, trying to think of a way to best explain it. "It's like when you're a young teenager. Most go through a period where they fixate on someone, like a TV star, a musician of a popular band, a favorite teacher, or even a police detective who helps them out." Blair shot Jim a smirk, remembering Stacy Newman, a young woman who had awakened after an eight year coma to discover she had totally missed her teen years. She had fallen for Jim while they were helping her.
"Like a crush," Steven prodded.
"Exactly. A teen will envision a relationship with someone that's safe because they're unattainable. Only erotomanics are stuck in that stage, lacking the social skills to make real friendships or intimate relationships. So they build fantasy relationships with some person from afar." Blair stopped talking when he noticed the waitress approaching with the drinks.
Once they had given their orders, Jim returned to the topic. "This is more than a high school crush, Chief. This person honestly thinks Steven knows them and loves them."
"That's why it's a delusional disorder," Blair patiently explained. "Reality has nothing to do with it. It wouldn't matter if Steven was happily married with three kids. This person would still build her delusions thinking they are 'soul mates' and that he loves only her. Since he is someone 'important' in her mind, his love makes her a worthwhile person."
"But how does she find out all this stuff about me?" Steven waved his hand then winced. "Like my shoulder and going to Sprouts?" Jim frowned, realizing his brother's shoulder was still bothering him.
"Erotomanics tend to be above average in intelligence, so they can get very creative in finding ways to gleam as much information about you as possible and thus be closer to you. The more information they know about their love object, the more intimate they feel towards them. That's why actors and actresses tend to be targets; there are tons of details about their personal lives made public by magazines and TV shows like Entertainment Tonight. The stalker feels that they 'know' that person, because they know so much about them. Plus, that's why they become stalkers. Every time they see you it makes them feel more a part of your life. Whether you know they're there or not, it feeds their delusions to think that you do know they're there and love them."
"So what if I just confront this person and tell them to bug off?" Steven asked, searching for a way to deal with the situation.
Blair shrugged. "Probably won't do any good. You'll be paying attention to her, giving her a response that in her deluded state, she will twist into something that means you love her. For instance, telling her to 'go to hell' would become 'my life is hell without you'. The delusion thrives on contact with the love object."
"So what do I do?" Steven asked forlornly, highly uncomfortable being described as a 'love object'.
"Usually, there are only four ways to stop a stalker. One is to scare them off, which only works if the person isn't that invested in you." Blair could see by the gleam in his partner's eyes that Jim liked that option. "Two is to totally disappear. You'd have to move somewhere far way, cutting off every tie you have with your old life and obtain a totally new identity."
Steven stared at him in horror. "No way."
"Agree," Blair nodded. "Not only is it incredibly rough on the victim, but it can be almost impossible to do. There is almost always some link that a person misses and the stalker will find. Option three is incarceration."
"That's probably the most reasonable," Jim agreed firmly. "It's now illegal to stalk someone in this state, so with evidence we can put them away."
"While praying they fixate on some other poor person," Blair muttered.
"So what do I do to build my case?" Steven asked.
"We start by having you obtain a restraining order," Jim replied. "It will establish that you don't want contact."
"On who?" Blair countered. "We need a name to get a restraining order."
The three men stared at each other a moment, broken when the waitress arrived with their food. Once she was gone, Steve quietly asked, "What's the fourth option?"
Blair's eyes dropped to the plate in front of him. "Death of the stalker."
"Then we'll have to try incarceration first," Jim observed grimly. "Which means we have to find out her name."
Twenty minutes later, Jim glanced up from Steven's list to see his brother idly picking at his fish. "Steve, you okay?"
Steven dropped the fork and sighed. "I keep wondering if I'm being watched, WHEN I'm being watched. How much she's been digging up on my personal life. I feel like I need to jump up and look over my shoulder real fast to see if anyone's there."
Jim reached over and gently squeezed his brother's shoulder. "We'll catch her. It'll just take a little
time."
Deciding Steven needed a distraction, Blair pulled a name off Steven's list, "Who's Dory Jamison?"
"One of the new vice presidents," Steven replied, rolling his eyes. "She and the main VP I work under, Jake Wilson, have fought with each other since day one."
"She show any interest in you?" Blair inquired.
Steven snorted. "Only as a means to get back at Jake. They each try to score off the other, and I'm in the crossfire."
Jim appraised his brother a moment, again noticing the fatigue. "How bad is it?"
Steven shrugged. "Nothing Jake and I can't handle so far. I've just had to stay on my toes more than normal."
Jim studied him a moment more, knowing Steven was telling the truth but that it was still taking a toll on him. Oh well, one problem at a time. "What's this 'Charity auction' thing?"
"One of Jamison's ideas," Steven sighed. "Apparently, the president of Children's Hospital is good friends with the director of The Community Lights Foundation, so she talked him into letting her do a bachelor's auction to benefit the hospital. Some sort of political thing. Anyway, Jamison figured that it would be good publicity for our company to be involved, so the next thing I knew, I had 'volunteered'."
Jim's eyes narrowed. "Volunteered to do what?" Steven's face turned beet red.
A snicker escaped before Blair could stop it. "You're one of the bachelors?"
When Steven didn't reply, Jim's eyes widened. "You're kidding?"
Steven shook his head. "Jamison thinks it's a riot. Jake just kinda shrugs while telling me to at least get a decent bid, so that the company doesn't look bad." He glanced at Jim. "It's for Children's Hospital. I just couldn't back out."
Jim nodded. He knew that Children's Hospital was the one charity Steven really cared about. "So when is this auction?"
"Next week. I had to fill out a bunch of forms about three months ago so they could do a background check on me." Steven smiled. "Guess they wanted to make sure I wasn't an abuser or pervert on the side."
"Too bad they can't do the same for the ones bidding on you," Jim replied thoughtfully. "So that means you filled out the paperwork at the same time the letters arrived?"
"It was around that time."
Jim glanced at Blair. "That sounds like a good avenue to pursue, along with Jamison."
"Wait a minute," Steven interjected, sitting up straight. "You can't go to my bosses with this."
"Why not?" Jim asked.
"Jim," Blair rolled his eyes. "We don't want to get Steven fired."
"Then we'll have to be subtle." Steven and Blair looked at each other, then at Jim. Jim lifted his eyebrows. "What? I can be subtle."
Blair looked at Steven. "I'll do the digging into Jamison for you."
For the first time, Steven felt truly comfortable with Jim's partner. "Thanks, Blair."
With a shake of his head, Jim turned to the next item. "Okay, another question. Do you have Caller ID?"
Steven looked puzzled. "No. Why?"
"I want to find out if those hang-ups are wrong numbers or the letter writer checking on you."
Steven took a deep breath. "I guess I just call the phone company?" His mind whirling, he tried to figure out when he'd have time to call.
"Have Lily do it for you," Blair suggested, reading the strain on Steven's face. "It sounds like she really wants to help."
"Lily?" Jim asked.
"Ms. Lancin," Steven answered.
Jim chuckled. He knew his partner could charm her. "By the way, bro, where did you pick her up at? The University? Looks like a couple of the gals Sandburg's dated." Blair gave Jim a playful glare.
"The employment agency sent her over." Steven shook his head. "I think I'm on their reject list, since I've gone through so many. So I get the odder ones."
"Yeah, but she seems on the ball," Blair replied.
Steven smiled. "Yeah. She's the first one who's been able to figure out how to work the fax machine."
"Just do me a favor and don't ask her out, Chief." Jim gave Blair a pointed look. "She's bound to turn into a weirdo if you do."
"Like YOU have such great luck with woman?" Blair countered. Noticing that Steven was starting to relax, they continued to banter for the rest of the meal.
Hour later, Burbank Complex
As Steven's car pulled away from the curb, Jim monitored the area with his senses, alert for any motion or noise. When nothing seemed to take an interest in Steven's BMW, he sighed and climbed into his truck.
Blair glanced up from his notes. "Nothing?"
Jim shook his head. "I'm worried, Chief. I can tell he's tired between the tense situation at work and the auction stuff. This stalker is just one more thing he doesn't need."
"By the way," Blair prodded gently. "What did Steven mean about not being able to turn down Children's Hospital?"
"They saved my life when we were kids."
"What?" Blair turned to face his partner. "You never mentioned that!"
"Not much to mention." Jim shrugged, staring straight ahead. "I was pretty young at the time. I don't even remember the accident and Pop would never talk about it. Sally said it was only due to the great work at the hospital that I survived. So Steven has always contributed to it."
Seeing the darkening gloom around his friend, Blair attempted to cheer him up. "Hey man, it sounds like Steven can handle the work stuff. We just have to support him through the stalker stuff."
Unconsciously clenching his jaw, Jim stared straight ahead. "At least she hasn't made any threats yet."
"Ah, that might actually be a bad sign, Jim."
Worried blue eyes instantly turned to his partner. "What do you mean, bad sign?"
Blair sighed. "Well, of course it depends on what mental problem the stalker has. But statistically, only three to five percent of erotomanics who threaten to kill their love object actually do it. It's when an erotomanic starts saying things like he and his love object will be 'united' on such and such a date that you need to get worried. They tend to think they will be united in death."
Jim took a deep breath. "I don't like the sounds of that. This woman has already inferred that she and Steven will be 'together again'."
Blair sent a worried look to Jim. "It gets worse. Erotomanics are more likely to kill a close friend or family member of their love object because they think that person is standing in their way."
"I can handle it," Jim replied with a shrug. "I just don't want her going after my brother." With that statement, Jim started the truck. Blair sighed, worried that Jim wasn't taking the all too real threat to himself seriously.
Tuesday morning, Griffin Enterprises
Steven wearily leaned against the elevator wall and closed his eyes. He was so tired. Five hang-up calls had interrupted his sleep until after one in the morning. It had been too late to write them off as wrong numbers or telemarketers, so Steven knew Jim was right: it had to be the stalker. The realization had filled him with tension, so he had had very little sleep even after the calls stopped.
After hours of tossing, he got up early to drive to the old train station his company was remodeling. He needed to check that the supplies he had ordered had been delivered as promised. Arriving at the same time as the crew, the foreman had taken the opportunity to talk with him. The crew had found unexpected but extensive water damage upstairs. After viewing the damage and discussing the situation with the foreman and the architect, who had arrived early to take a look, Steven compiled a list of suggested solutions. Now he just had to figure out which one was both safe and affordable. He had walked out to the parking lot with the architect, who had patted him hard on the back and asked if he was feeling okay. Steven had somehow managed to shrug it off without being too grouchy, but he wasn't sure he had been convincing.
Later, as his car crawled with all the others in rush hour traffic, Steven found himself covertly studying his fellow commuters in the surrounding cars, even using his rearview mirror to examine the ones behind him. With each fe
male occupant, he wondered, 'Is it her? Could she be following me?' He finally cranked up a talk show on the radio to distract his thoughts.
Now he had to somehow find the energy to handle a full day of work. He stretched his aching shoulder, praying he could last without falling asleep at his desk. Getting off at his floor, Steven's feet traveled to his office on autopilot.
"Hi, Mr. Ellison."
Steven gave his new office assistant a quick once over as he tried to smile. Today she was wearing a red velvet top under a black linen jacket. A huge, silver, Celtic cross on a black beaded chain hung from her neck. Too bad my stalker isn't a vampire. That cross would scare her off. At least the deep red lipstick was an improvement over the hideous purple from yesterday. "Hi, Ms. Lancin. Have I had any calls yet?"
Lily shook her head, studying him worriedly. "Just Mr. Wilson. He said he'd be down around ten."
Glancing at the small digital clock on her desk, Steven noticed it was already 9:30. He sighed, thinking of all the work he had to do and wondering what extra project Jake would dump on him. Then he remembered Blair's suggestion. "Ms. Lancin, could you do me a favor? I'd like to get Caller ID on my home phone."
Eyes and voice growing hard, the young woman inquired, "That weirdo calling you at home now?"
Steven shrugged. "I've been getting a lot of hang-ups and Jim thinks it might be her."
She grabbed the telephone book. "I'm on it."
Steven stepped around her desk to walk to his office when the building delivery man arrived. The uneasy feeling that had plagued him all day grew. Turning around, he watched as Lily signed the clipboard and was handed a mailing box the size of a video. "Is it for me?"
Lily gave him a fretful look. "Yes. And it's the weirdo's handwriting." She picked up a small business card that had been carefully placed next to the phone. "Do you want me to call Detective Sandburg, Mr. Ellison?"
