Nikki's Secret

by William Malmborg

Apparently the guy was a writer, and one that was doing pretty well given the amount of talk that seemed to be taking place all over the web.

  One link brought her to his Amazon page where all his books were listed.

  She scrolled through them, an unplaced recognition entering her mind.

  Bookstore? she asked herself while trying to place them, her mind thinking that maybe some of his paperbacks had been on a stand or something when she entered one day.

  Though plausible, the connection didn’t seem correct. Dwelling on it wasn’t going to get her anywhere, however, so she continued to follow links. She also sent him a friend request on Facebook, a message about enjoying his books accompanying it.

  On a whim, she checked his friends list to see if he was friends with Kimberly. Her profile didn’t appear anywhere. After that, she did a search of Kimberly’s profile. Sadly, everything on it but her profile picture was blocked.

  Friend request her as well?

  The temptation was strong, but in the end she decided against it due to the connection factor and the possibility that the police might grow interested in her friends list at some point.

  And what about the writer’s profile? a part of her mind taunted her. Won’t they grow interested in that as well?

  Unlikely, she countered. He’s a public figure who is bound to have a lot of random friend requests.

  No other comments arrived.

  Not wanting to be sucked into Facebook, she backed out until she was once again on the Google results page. While continuing with those results she opened a second window to check some of the dating site profiles she had just to see if any men would be paying Kimberly a visit in the near future. As usual, dozens of requests had been made to see her, and, on the sites that were setup like Facebook, friend requests were waiting.

  She accepted them all and then, after some debate, went ahead and gave them Kimberly’s address.

  4

  It was everything Kimberly could do not to check her phone during her first class, the sound of its buzz having reached her ears halfway through the opening lecture.

  Was it Bill? Did something happen? Did he find out information on the girl? Or is it Kyle trying to get back together with you? What if it is Bill telling you that Kyle came by the house and wouldn’t leave?

  On and on the questions went, their frequency overwhelming her to the point where the professor’s lecture was barely audible.

  Stick it out she did, however, and then, once the class was over, quickly checked her phone while everyone else was filtering toward the exits.

  It was from Bill.

  I THINK I’VE FOUND HER.

  That was it.

  REALLY? HOW? she asked and then grabbed her things to leave.

  Her phone buzzed.

  FACEBOOK, was his reply.

  Typing and walking wasn’t going to work given the sheer volume of people crowding the hallway, so she waited until she found a spot where she could stop without becoming a roadblock to everyone else. Not that she would be the only one causing such a blockage if she stopped. It was amazing how clueless many of these people were. Still, she wouldn’t allow herself to do such a thing.

  HOW? she asked. WE SEARCHED HER NAME THE OTHER DAY.

  A few minutes passed.

  EASY. I SEARCHED HER FATHER’S NAME AND SHE WAS LISTED AS HIS DAUGHTER.

  BUT HE’S DEAD.

  GUESS NO ONE BOTHERED TO TAKE DOWN HIS PROFILE.

  Huh, her mind muttered. She had never before thought about what would happen to her profile if she died.

  She shifted her thoughts back to the daughter and asked, DID YOU FIND OUT WHERE SHE LIVES?

  NOT YET. BUT I KNOW WHERE THE FATHER LIVED. WE COULD GO ASK AROUND AND SEE IF WE CAN LEARN ANYTHING.

  Kimberly thought about that and started to type up a message voicing her doubt that anyone would talk to them when the phone buzzed again.

  Keep typing and send this, or check and see what else he said? It was moments like this that she wished she could view a message while typing one up with this phone.

  Are there phones that allow that? she wondered.

  The question faded without an answer as she ended her message and checked his newest one.

  HIS PROFILE WAS COMPLETELY PUBLIC.

  Gah, you could have kept typing.

  DO YOU REALLY THINK PEOPLE WILL TALK TO US? she asked.

  WON’T KNOW UNTIL WE TRY.

  He has a point.

  OKAY. A second later she added. WHERE DOES HE LIVE?

  GENOA.

  WHERE’S THAT? She had heard of it before, but had never really bothered to see where the town was located.

  LIKE FIFTEEN MINUTES NORTH OF HERE. STRAIGHT UP 23.

  Oh, that’s not too bad. Even if the trip proved to be fruitless, at least they wouldn’t have wasted too much time driving back and forth.

  IF THAT’S ALL THEN WE COULD GO BETWEEN MY CLASSES, she said. Hell, she wouldn’t mind being late to her next class if it meant finding out where this bitch lived and confronting her.

  BETTER TO WAIT UNTIL AFTER YOUR CLASS, Bill wrote. LESS CHANCE PEOPLE WILL BE AT WORK WHEN WE RING DOORBELLS.

  Kimberly hadn’t thought about that.

  Another message arrived.

  IN THE MEANTIME, I’M GOING TO ATTEMPT TO FRIEND HER AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS. DOUBT SHE WILL ACCEPT, BUT YOU NEVER KNOW.

  DO YOU HAVE A FACE PIC AS YOUR PROFILE IMAGE? Kimberly asked.

  WHY? was his reply.

  CHANGE IT SO SHE DOESN’T RECOGNIZE YOU WHEN THE FRIEND REQUEST ARRIVES.

  OH, GOOD IDEA.

  Satisfaction arrived. Still, she doubted his attempt would work. She also doubted she would be able to focus in her next class, not when the possibility of confronting the girl seemed within their reach.

  And if this doesn’t work, give her information to the police.

  Kimberly shook her head, not because it was a bad idea, but because she knew she should have contacted them as soon as she knew the name and suspected the daughter of being the one behind everything.

  No time like the present.

  She stared at her phone while thinking about this, fingers ready to make the call, but then decided to wait. The reason for this was simple. She knew they would want to talk to her face to face, which meant she would probably have to miss her class, and while she wouldn’t mind doing that, she didn’t think a few hours would make much of a difference.

  You shouldn’t put this off, she told herself. You’ve already done that enough.

  The police lady had told her to contact them if anything else happened, which, obviously, stuff had.

  You were assaulted too.

  But you were chasing her.

  After she broke into the garage.

  Kimberly sighed.

  Once she called she was going to be in for a lecture, of this she was certain.

  And you deserve it for being an idiot.

  It’s Bill’s fault.

  Though this last part made her feel better, she knew it wasn’t really a good excuse. In fact, giving in to his wishes on this had been ridiculous; another sign that she was still a pushover despite the stance she had made with Kevin.

  But would they draw the same conclusions you and Bill have? Is there enough evidence to connect the daughter to this?

  Who else could it be?

  Who else would send you to the motel room where that guy was killed?

  She looked around at all the other college students while thinking about this, a sense of envy at how ‘normal’ their current life probably was developing within her. Chances were none of them had a stalker tormenting them, nor did they have to frequently relive the horrible images of a miscarriage or the knowledge that they had accidentally killed their own cat during that moment of horror. None of them lived below a writer who had set up a fake blog in order to sell porn and dating site subscriptions. None of them . . .

  On and on it went, her mind coming up with dozens upon dozens of things
that these students didn’t have to experience. It would have continued too if she didn’t spot a young lady walking to class while carrying an oxygen pack over her shoulder, one who stopped every ten feet or so to catch her breath. Seeing that put an end to the silent ‘feel sorry for me’ rant and spurred her onward toward her next class, one that wouldn’t be starting for a while still. Once located she would go get some lunch, her mind knowing that eating was a must because the last thing she wanted was for her stomach to start rumbling in class.

  In her head, the debate on calling the police began once again, and this time around, she actually thought long and hard about skipping class so that she could fill them in on everything that had happened since the last visit.

  5

  Two hours. That was the amount of time Bill managed before casually checking some of the webmaster programs he still belonged with to see what kind of new promo material they were offering for people like him to advertise the sites with. It was just supposed to be a quick peek; a reward for locating the address of Mr. Moore and, potentially, his daughter, but quickly turned into an all out download frenzy. Thirty promo videos later he went ahead and pulled out his old porn laptop, the desire to see what had been added to all the free ‘spyware and virus ridden’ sites too much to resist.

  And it’s not like this is going to turn into an everyday thing, he told himself. Not when she will probably say no to you two sharing the connection.

  But what if she says yes?

  Bill thought about this while the old laptop was booting up, its progress slow due to some of the viruses that probably roamed it, and decided he would worry about that if it became a reality. In the meantime, he was going to enjoy the time he had with the web while waiting for Kimberly to come home so they could go check out the address and see if they couldn’t get someone to share with them where Emily Moore currently lived.

  7

  Mark tried getting in touch with Amy after his first class ended, but never got a reply to his text, which asked if she wanted to do lunch with him. Naturally, concern followed, but then faded as he realized she might be in her own class and couldn’t reply. That was the problem with not having her schedule. He didn’t know at what points during the day she was free.

  And what if your text made her phone ring in the middle of class?

  He knew such an outcome wouldn’t really be his fault, not when it was her responsibility to silence her phone so things like that didn’t happen, but still didn’t like the idea that his actions could have potentially caused her embarrassment. He also didn’t like the dilemma he now faced due to the lack of a response and knowledge about her schedule, one that focused on whether or not he should go ahead and grab some lunch himself or wait and see if she did reply in the near future. Again, finishing a meal moments before she replied with a ‘yes, let’s grab lunch’ wouldn’t be his fault, especially since he had asked her what her class schedule was, but it would be disappointing. After all, the reason he was asking if she wanted to have lunch was because he wanted to have lunch with her. The actual eating of a meal wasn’t important beyond the fact that it would provide some needed sustenance.

  Wait a little longer and see if she replies, his mind suggested. He did have a decent chunk of time before the next class, so it wasn’t like he was in any kind of rush. Also, given the hour, any place he went would probably be packed, so waiting a bit just to let the rush die down wasn’t a bad idea.

  You could also go see if she’s home.

  The house she lived in wasn’t far. He could actually see if from the main area of campus. And if she wasn’t home he could just cut over to Tom and Jerry’s again and grab something.

  And if she asks why you walked over here, you could just say you thought her phone might be dead.

  Such a gesture could be interpreted in two ways. One: that he was sweet for double checking and seeing if she wanted to get some lunch before going by himself. Two: he was too needy, had a habit of over thinking things, and would probably constantly harass her anytime she didn’t reply to a message.

  Throw in a third option, one that combines both of those.

  It took some time, but in the end he decided that walking to her place to ask in person if she wanted to do lunch was going a bit too far. Walking to her place, however, wasn’t. He still did that, but only because it was on the way to Tom and Jerry’s. Plus, he was curious on whether or not her car was at the house she lived in. It was this curiosity that actually sealed the deal on his going to Tom and Jerry’s, because, truth be told, he didn’t really feel like eating there again, not if it was just him. At the same time he couldn’t shake that curiosity and knew that if he did get caught walking by her place (caught as in ‘hey, what are you doing here?’ or, if she saw him and asked him later why he had been outside her place) he could always claim the ‘I was simply going to Tom and Jerry’s for lunch’ excuse. He would even have a receipt to show her.

  And if her car is there?

  The temptation to head up to her apartment and find out if she wanted to go to lunch would be strong.

  Maybe you should hold off on that.

  He had already started walking toward her place when this thought hit and quickly halted himself. Indecision gripped him. He didn’t know what to do. The curiosity on whether or not she was home was huge, as was his desire to get a reply to his inquiry about lunch. The fear of looking like a creep was present as well, however, and was something he didn’t want to instill in her.

  Probably best to hold off.

  Probably best to –

  His phone buzzed.

  Excitement echoed throughout his body as he looked at his phone. Disappointment followed. Amy couldn’t do lunch today.

  Another text arrived.

  BUT COME ON BY AFTER CLASS.

  He smiled. I WILL.

  AND CHECK YOUR FACEBOOK. YOU MIGHT HAVE A FRIEND REQUEST WAITING.

  OH REALLY! I WONDER WHO THAT COULD BE FROM?

  HMMM, I WONDER :)

  Feeling good, Mark headed toward the computer lab so he could log onto Facebook to accept her friend request and see what her profile was like, his thoughts on eating lunch temporarily put on hold.

  8

  Bill was surprised by Kimberly’s early return and wondered if something had happened between her classes. Concerned, he considered going downstairs to ask, but then held back and sent a text instead.

  YOU’RE BACK EARLY. IS EVERYTHING OKAY?

  Several minutes passed before a reply came, one that simple read: YOU SHOULD COME DOWN.

  Go figure, he said to himself and started toward the stairway door.

  Hesitation hit.

  Having spent the last two hours looking at and downloading porn he probably wasn’t in the best state for social interaction, especially with the pre-cum soaked underwear he was currently wearing.

  A quick trip to the dresser helped the situation a bit, though he still felt somewhat soiled. Nothing short of a shower would rectify that, however, one that would see him first releasing the sexual build up that currently plagued him, followed by a good scrubbing away of the fluids that would be clinging to him. Given the trip Kimberly and he were scheduled to take later on, this was something he had planned on taking care of before her return home from class, but now . . . well, he would just have to risk going down there in his current state.

  9

  “I want to go to the police and tell them everything that has happened,” Kimberly said.

  “Oh, um . . . okay,” Bill said.

  This reply caught her off guard. She had been expecting some protest from him; maybe even a well thought up reason why they shouldn’t go, one that would nearly persuade her to rethink the decision.

  “And by everything I mean everything,” she added. “Including your website and how we think it’s connected.”

  He didn’t reply to that right away.

  Kimberly waited.

  Finally, he nodded.

  “You’re okay wit
h that?” Kimberly asked.

  “It’s not really a matter of me being okay with it,” Bill said. “It’s more I’ve come to terms with the realization that the police would know about it eventually.”

  Kimberly expected more, a ‘but, I also think . . .’ of some kind that would tell her how fruitless going to the police would be.

  Nothing else followed.

  “You said you know where the police station is?” Kimberly questioned.

  “Yeah, it’s right next to the library. You want to go there or have them come here?”

  “Which do you think is better?”

  He shrugged.

  “I suppose if they come here they could dust for prints on the lights that she destroyed,” Kimberly added after some thought.

  “Maybe? Some time has passed, so I don’t know if they would be able to get anything, plus I’m guessing she wore gloves, but . . .” he shrugged again “. . . I’m no expert.”

  Should have called them that night, Kimberly scolded herself. And every other time something happened.

  Kicking herself over this wouldn’t change anything, however, so she attempted to look beyond it. She also knew that blaming Bill, though easy to do, wasn’t really a good way of nullifying her own responsibility for not calling the police. She was a big girl and should have made the decision herself.

  “You know, they probably won’t want us looking into things ourselves,” Bill said.

  “Yeah, but that wouldn’t be necessary if the police were doing it.”

  “True, but only if they are actually following up on the information we give them.”

  “Why wouldn’t they?”

  “It’s hard to say. All I know is that sometimes things that seem pretty straightforward to people like us, aren’t as straightforward when the law is concerned given all the investigative protocol they have to follow.”

  Kimberly didn’t know how to reply to this.

  “Chances are good they may look at everything, make a note of it all, and then simply tell us that we will just have to wait and see what else happens, just like the officer did the other night.”

  Kimberly shook her head. “I find it really hard to believe that they would say that after everything that has happened. With all the information we give them they will have to do something.”