Chapter Twenty-Two
“Does your person have a mustache?” I asked. Round five of Guess Who? was going about as well as the previous four, which made me laugh. Sammy either didn’t understand the rules very well, or he was purposely giving the wrong answers to confuse me. I was pretty sure I knew which one it was.
“No,” he replied slowly.
I eyed him, doubting the truthfulness of his answer. “Are you sure?”
His head bobbed as his deceitful grin grew.
Halfway through spring break, we’d played every board game Roman had, indulged in way too many hours of video games, and played at the park under Lydia’s watchful eye for at least an hour every day. Roman felt bad he hadn’t been able to take time off, but Sammy and I had enjoyed our time together. He’d even stopped climbing into bed with us as his fears about me disappearing had lessened. I flipped down a few more cartoon faces and soaked up the moment. It had been a long time since I’d felt this at peace.
A burst of sharp knocks on the front door startled me and sent Sammy spinning in his chair. He leaned to see around the kitchen island in an attempt to get a look at the front door and nearly fell out of his chair head first. I practically had to lay across the table to reach his chair back in time to stop the tipping. The knocking came again as I righted him.
“You stay put, okay? I’ll see who it is?”
Roman hadn’t been thrilled about Sammy and I staying at the house alone, but I’d finally convinced him we’d be fine on our own if we stayed inside and didn’t attract any undue attention. There hadn’t been any sign of the stalker in the neighborhood, and the police had been patrolling regularly. I approached the door cautiously, even still, hoping it wasn’t someone unfamiliar. I was under strict order not to open the door to anyone who wasn’t family or close friend.
Looking through the peephole, I decided I would have rather dealt with a stranger, even one there to abduct me. Sighing, I unlocked the door and pulled it open only partially. “Jennifer, what are you doing here? I doubt Roman forgot to tell me you’d scheduled time with Sammy today. In fact, I doubt he even knows you’re in town.”
As far as Roman knew, Jen was supposed to be on her way back to New York for some play or something. I couldn’t even fathom why she’d show up here in the middle of the day when she knew Roman would be at work.
“I ended up staying in California longer than planned. Multiple shows were interested in having me audition while I was in town.” The tone of her voice implied I should be very impressed. I wasn’t, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Anyway, I’m heading back to New York soon and thought I’d stop by and see my little Sammy before I left.”
Not moving from in front of the door, I said, “You’re supposed to call Roman first and schedule time with Sammy. Not show up unannounced.”
Jen waved her hand dismissively. “Forgive me if I don’t let the babysitter stop me from seeing my son.”
Ah, so that was why she’d shown up now. Clearly she thought she could push me around more easily than Roman, and I was sure having a chance to fling a few barbs in my direction at the same time was only a bonus for her. While Jen was still extremely intimidating on several levels, I was past scurrying out of her way to avoid conflict. I was about to tell her to take it up with Roman and shut the door in her face, but I hadn’t realized Sammy had followed me to the door.
“She’s not my babysitter,” he said angrily. “She’s my new mom.”
Neither Jen nor I said anything for a moment. At first, I was too shocked Sammy had said that to her, especially since it wasn’t true, and then I lost my words all over again when I saw the devastated expression on Jen’s face. The last thing I wanted to do was sit down for a lengthy conversation with Roman’s ex-wife. As much as I wished I could leave her standing on the porch all afternoon, I had to do the right thing. So I opened the door the rest of the way and sighed.
“Jen, come in, please.” I didn’t wait for her response, and instead turned to Sammy. “Sammy, I think you owe your mom an apology.”
Red flooded his face. “No!”
Realizing Jen had stepped into the foyer, I closed and locked the door behind her before responding to Sammy. Jen still hadn’t said a word. “Sammy,” I said, pinning him with a stern look, “you…”
“I won’t apologize,” he shouted. “I hate her!”
Strangely, there was less reaction from Jen to that statement than his first. I, on the other hand, was shocked. “Samuel, we do not tell people we hate them. You’re angry and upset, but we do not say mean things to our family like that. Apologize to your mother, right now.”
“No!” Tears welled in his eyes as his anger rose. “She left me and she only wants to see me so she can be around Dad! She’s not my mom anymore. I won’t let her be my mom anymore! You’re my new mom and she can’t say no because…She. Left. Me!”
He didn’t wait for me to demand again that he apologize. With tears pouring down his face, Sammy bolted for his bedroom. I’d dealt with fits and tantrums with my nephews plenty of times, but nothing like this. Sammy wasn’t upset about not getting ice cream or someone taking his toys. The poor boy was frightened and angry, on a deeper level than he probably knew how to fully process, and he felt like he had no control over what happened in his life. That would scare me, too.
Sighing, I turned to face Jen and offer my own apology in Sammy’s place.
“Is it true?” she spat.
Not sure which part of his outburst she was reacting to, I hesitated. “Is what true?”
“Are you and Roman engaged?”
It took a few seconds for my brain to catch up with what she’d said. Her only child just screamed at her that he hated her and didn’t want her to be his mom anymore, and her first question was about whether or not Roman and I were engaged? Where had that even come from?
I was still trying to wrap my head around that when another knock on the door startled me into gasping. Practically jumping away from Jen and having to answer her questions, I reached for the door and peered through the peephole again. Relief hit me when I recognized Detective Cordova, then it turned into a silent groan that echoed all the way down to my toes. Sluggishly, my fingers twisted the deadbolt and opened the door.
“Detective Cordova, it’s nice to see you. Any news?”
If Jen hadn’t been able to see me doing it, I would have crossed my fingers that he’d have a quick answer and leave. This was my life we were talking about. Of course it couldn’t be that simple.
“Yes, actually, do you mind if I come in?”
Forcing a polite smile onto my face, I stepped back and gestured him in. He got past me so I could shut and lock the door before spotting Jen and stopping.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had a guest,” he said, gaze bouncing back to me after seeing Jen’s hostile expression.
“Unexpected guest,” I grumbled. “Jen, this is Officer Cordova. Officer Cordova, this is Jen…” I trailed off, at a loss suddenly. Coming up empty, I had no other choice than to go to Jen for help. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what your maiden name is.”
A sharp, cutting smile spread across her perfectly shaped lips. “I never changed it back.” She focused her full charm on the detective and extended her hand. “Jennifer Carpenter. Roman and I were married.”
“Yes, were,” I said. “Yet, here you are in our living room. Uninvited.” My sympathy for her after Sammy’s hurtful words was slipping fast.
Hoping to get both visitors out of my hair as quickly as possible, I gestured toward the couches. “Maybe we should all sit down and everyone can say whatever they need to and then we can all go our separate ways.” I meant for that to be more polite than it ended up being. Jen sauntered over to the couch like she was on a catwalk. Officer Cordova hesitated, glancing over at me with a look that asked if I needed help. As much as I wanted to jump on that offer, I could only shrug. I was sure throwing her out would only make things worse in the
long run. Accepting that, albeit grudgingly, I took a seat on the arm chair across from Jen and looked over at Officer Cordova.
“So, you said you had news?” Silently, I was pleading with him to say he’d caught the guy and everything was great now.
“There hasn’t been any sign of the stalker around your building since the break-in, however, I was able to get the security footage from the library.” He reached into his jacket pocket and I tensed, anticipation making it difficult to breathe. “We didn’t get a clear enough image of his face to ID him, but I thought maybe you’d recognize something about him that could help us.”
I expected Jen to jump in with a billion questions, throwing all of this in my face as proof she was better than me. Surprisingly, she sat primly on the edge of the couch, interested, but not overly so. I kept her in the corner of my vision just in case. The rest of my attention went to Officer Cordova and the photos he was holding out to me.
I took them with only my fingertips. The corners of the three thick sheets separating enough to let me count them. Touching them felt like too much of a physical interaction with this creep. I laid the photos on the coffee table and pushed them apart with one finger until I could see all three images at once.
It wasn’t just on TV shows that security camera images were frustratingly fuzzy and all but useless for identifying people. I understood why. Cameras capable of capturing that kind of footage were expensive, and the library housed books, most of which weren’t especially valuable. Plus, I knew the camera watching the circulation desk was mounted high on a wall to get a wide view at the expense of detail.
The partial view of the guy’s face as he casually dropped the note on my desk without stopping was barely enough to tell his ethnicity, and in all honesty he could have been Caucasian or Hispanic. I wasn’t completely sure. In all three images, there was never more than a corner of his face in view at once. I couldn’t have guessed whether that was luck or skill. All the images really told me was that the note had been purposely left for me to find, and that my old neighbors had accurately described his height and build.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I can’t see anything clearly enough to say whether I recognize him or not.”
Detective Cordova nodded. “It’s okay. I knew it was a long shot, but I wanted you to look at them either way.” He reach back into his jacket and produced his cell phone. I wasn’t sure why, until he spoke again. “I also had the library send sections of the security footage where this guy was visible. I want you to look at a few to see if there’s something about his walk or mannerisms that strike a chord with you, okay?”
“A few?” I asked. It was a struggle to keep my rising fear under control so Jen wouldn’t see it. I had no doubt she’d use this to push Roman away from me if she saw an opening.
“Yes, there were…several. Some of the videos are from different parts of the library, but they’re mainly around your work area, though he stays in the distance, other than to drop off the note.” Detective Cordova hesitated a moment before handing over his phone. I understood why when I looked at the list of videos.
Campus Library 1
Campus Library 2
Campus Library 3
Campus Library 4…
Campus Library 17
“When did this start?” I asked, my voice sounding hollow.
“The library only keeps footage for four weeks. The old videos are automatically deleted to preserve space on the hard drive.” He watched my reaction, no doubt wondering if I’d burst into tears again.
I wanted to. Believe me, a long cry sounded pretty good right about then. “I can’t believe he was there so often. That’s almost every day of the week.”
I couldn’t keep my breathing from picking up no matter how hard I tried. He was there, nearly every day, watching me, keeping track of me and what I was doing. Scanning through the files, I noted the dates on each one and quickly realized another pattern of—what had Detective Cordova called it?—escalation? I hadn’t been at work for almost two weeks, thanks to breaking my wrist and spring break. The seventeen videos had accumulated within two weeks. Not only that, they went from one visit per day to multiple instances of him being caught on camera near my desk, but just out of my line of sight. Watching and…listening.
Detective Cordova picked up on my reaction immediatly and leaned toward me. “What did you see?”
I shook my head, “Nothing. I haven’t even watched one yet. I just…the timestamps…they’re…”
He nodded. “Yes, I noticed the increased activity over the two weeks before you broke your wrist as well. We haven’t been able to pinpoint a trigger just yet.” He paused when my hands started shaking. “What is it, Greenly?”
“I think…I think I know why he started hanging around more often. I think he was…listening.”
His brow furrowed as he continued to watch my every move. “Listening to what?”
“To me talking to Sammy on the phone.”
“You talked to Sammy on the phone at work?” Detective Cordova asked. He seemed confused, which I guess I couldn’t blame him for. Saying that without any explanation did seem a little weird, not to mention unprofessional—especially for a library where silence was golden.
“He was upset a lot, around that time. There was…fighting.” I bit my lip when his eyebrow rose. I knew what his next line of questioning would be, and I knew I had to clarify. “Not between me and Roman. I mean, we argued once, about the fighting, I mean, between him and Jen. It was scaring Sammy and making him upset, so he’d call me and we’d talk whenever he was feeling sad or alone. Most of the time I was at work. I was quiet, but someone standing close enough could have overhead our conversations.”
Placing both elbows on his knees and pressing his fingertips together, Detective Cordova began to think. For several long seconds, I didn’t say a word. Jen still hadn’t butted in. That seemed extremely out of character for her, but I had to admit I really didn’t know her that well. Maybe she was saving up all her nasty remarks for when the good detective left so she didn’t look like a lunatic attacking me in front of him.
“Your conversations with Sammy,” he finally said, “if this guy were listening in, would it be obvious you were talking to a child, and not a romantic interest?”
“Well, yeah, unless there are other adults who go around having conversations about dinosaurs and basic math problems.” I started to say that even knowing I was talking to a child might have set this guy off, because it was attention I was giving to someone other than him. Then I remembered things had changed that second week. “After a while, Roman would call as well. Those conversations, I’m sure this guy would have known I was talking to an adult. We talked about getting together and dinner and things like that.”
Detective Cordova nodded and took out his little notebook. Whatever he scribbled down didn’t take long to write. He looked back up to say something, but I remembered one more thing and quickly cut him off.
“The day the note showed up on my desk, that was the day after I’d talked to Sammy about picking him up for dinner and a movie. I was talking to Sammy, but it might have sounded like I was making a date with Roman,” I said. “Most of the videos are after that date, and that’s when I started talking to Roman in the evenings, too.”
He scribbled down a few more notes, then pointed out a few specific videos he wanted me to watch. I did as he asked, a creepy crawling feeling slithering up my spine as I did. The first video showed the date he left the note on my desk. The second one was even more disturbing. No one was allowed behind the desk, but I watched as I stepped away, probably to use the restroom, and he moved behind the desk and ran his fingers over my books and backpack before slipping away again. Eager to get the phone away from me, I nearly threw it into the detective’s hands when he reached for it.
“Is there anything about his movements or mannerisms that are familiar to you?” he asked.
I shook my head
, but the motion slowed the longer I thought about it. I didn’t need to watch the videos again. I feared they would be stuck in my head forever. Closing my eyes, I focused on the way the man had run his fingers along arm of my chair. Something about that one movement stuck in my mind. The hairs on my arms stood up, as if remembering that same touch and not liking the reminder. There was definitely something about it that was familiar, but I could not for the life of me remember why.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I’m just not sure. Something about how he was touching my things gives me goosebumps, but I’m not sure why. I can’t place him at all.”
Despite the disappointment hiding at the edges of his expression, Detective Cordova smiled. “It’s okay. If you do remember, you have my number. Until then, I’ll keep looking.”
He stood, then, and I followed. Jen remained seated on the couch, her expression unreadable. Ignoring her for the time being, I walked the detective back to the front door and opened it for him. “Thank you for stopping by.”
“Of course,” he said. He gestured at the deadbolt. “I’m glad to see you’re taking this seriously. Keep that locked, okay?”
“I will.”
Detective Cordova glanced back to where he could see Jen’s head above the back of the couch. “Are you all right with her? If she’s not supposed to be here bothering Sammy, you let me know. I know how fractious custody issues can become.”
Sighing, I resisted the temptation. “I’ll be fine. Things are tense between her and Roman right now, but having her escorted off the property isn’t going to solve anything. Roman will deal with her when he gets home.”
“All right, if you’re sure,” he said. He pulled his gaze from Jen’s head and back to me. “If you need anything, though, call.”
“Thanks.”
I sighed as he stepped out onto the porch and left me alone with Jen. Taking my time closing and locking the door again, I tried to mentally prepare myself for whatever she was about to throw at me. Whatever her battle plan was, it wouldn’t be pretty.
The Crazy Girl's Handbook Page 27
