Lara picked up her phone and stared at the screen.
“Let’s just say the world is a better place without him in it.”
Grace needed to take a shower and walk her dog. She checked the time. She’d already called work to tell them she wouldn’t be coming in. As things stood she didn’t want to leave the house unless she absolutely had to. Jordan was somewhere out there waiting for her. She stared at the shoes she’d worn on Halloween night. She couldn’t remember if she’d left them at the house where she’d eaten the candy or at the tree where she’d found the lost tiara. Not that it mattered. Either way Jordan was clearly crazy.
“Lara,” she said. “A guy has been following me around Bolton the last couple of weeks. I’m pretty sure he’s the one who dropped off my shoes.”
“Why haven’t you gone to the police?”
Grace shrugged. “Because I feel like a total idiot every time I walk into the station to report someone. They’re always very professional but I get the impression they’re a little tired of dealing with me.”
“Maybe that’s just in your head.”
“My uncle was involved in sex trafficking. The police probably think a few stalkers is a small price to pay for my family’s sins.”
“Grace, your uncle may been guilty, but you were also a victim. And the police know it. They’ve always looked after you when you’ve asked for their help. They need to know if this guy is following you.”
“He was at K-Bar on Halloween night. I was hoping he hadn’t seen me leave but I guess I got that wrong.”
“Do you think he followed you when you left?”
“Seems like that’s the case.”
“Do you know anything about him?”
“He drives a Bronco and his name is Jordan.”
Lara raised her voice. “How do you know his name?”
“He’s been coming into the café for a while now. I thought he was some lonely guy. All the others have been much older. I didn’t think…”
“That’s crazy. You should have said something.”
“I know it was stupid. I was just hoping he’d get bored and leave me in peace. You have no idea how tiring this is.”
Lara started to get up. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll take you to the police station.”
“I’m not sure I can do that now.”
“Why not?”
“Do you remember that I wrote a letter to Peter telling him what a dick he was for how he treated me?”
“No harm done. You were never going to send it.”
“Someone broke into my locker at work. It’s gone.”
“And you think this guy took it?” asked Lara.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense. The break room is right across the hall from the restrooms and a few feet from the employee entrance. It would take some nerve but it’s possible. Some shifts are so busy we’re stuck at the counter serving for hours at a time. My name is on my locker. The lock isn’t exactly state of the art. It could have been picked.”
“What’s the downside of him having the letter?”
“Some of my language was pretty threatening. I’m pretty sure I wrote something about hoping Peter and Hannah would burn in hell. I may have been more specific.”
“How specific?”
“I may have threatened to burn down their house.”
“Seriously?”
Grace nodded. “It was just some stupid fantasy, but if this guy gets angry with me and shows the letter to the police, I’m going to be hauled in for questioning. I have a history with the Grangers. It won’t look good.”
“You were with me on Halloween.”
“Not all night. I lost an hour between leaving the K-Bar and seeing you again. If this guy was following me he’ll know we didn’t leave together. He doesn’t even have to show his face. He could leak the letter to the press or mail it to Macy Greeley. Either way I’m screwed.”
“What will you do then?”
Grace kicked the box over and the shoes tumbled out onto the floor.
“I guess I’m going to have to find out what this guy wants,” said Grace.
“How are you going to do that?”
Grace picked up her phone and scrolled through her recent calls.
“He called me yesterday so I have his number.”
“How did he get your number?”
“I assume from off the wall in the break room at the café.”
“This keeps on getting worse.”
“Tell me about it.” Grace buried her face in her hands. “Lara, I wouldn’t ask if there was any other way, but I think I need your help. I can’t do this on my own.”
“We need to come up with a plan. Do you have any idea where he lives?”
“Not a clue.”
“You said he always seems to be at the café when you have a shift?”
Grace nodded.
“So, he’ll be expecting you to come into work today,” said Lara.
“I’ve already called Steve. I’m not going in.”
“Even better. We’ll wait for Jordan outside and follow him home when he leaves.”
“It won’t work,” said Grace. “He’ll recognize my car.”
“Not a problem. We’ll take mine.”
* * *
Grace had done a quick pencil sketch of Jordan so Lara would be able to recognize him when she went into the café to do a reconnaissance while Grace waited in Lara’s car. They’d parked opposite the café on Main Street so they’d have a good view. Grace had tried to reel in her friend’s expectations, but feared her warnings had been lost in the pop and fizz of Lara’s enthusiasm. Grace was understandably wary. Lara didn’t seem to appreciate the potential dangers involved. Finding out where Jordan lived was going to be the easy part, but breaking in and searching his house might prove too ambitious a plan. Grace had decided to take a wait-and-see approach. If it was safe, she’d go in alone while Lara kept watch. She may have wanted Lara along for the ride, but there was no way she was going to risk her friend’s safety.
Not that Lara had a history of playing it safe. Grace’s first road trip with Lara, Taylor, Pippa, and Clare had almost ended in disaster when, instead of walking away, Lara chose to stand up to a man she’d offended. The group had still run as a pack back then. Taylor and Lara were so close they finished each other’s sentences, Clare was fearless, and Pippa had all the best lines. Their energy was magnetic. Grace had never met women like them before. Clare’s long blond hair hung down past her shoulders. She darted through life, owning every second. Pippa had a comedian’s taste for irony and loved a good laugh. Meanwhile, Taylor was this wise and wonderful creature with dark eyes and an insatiable curiosity.
It was high summer and a heat wave was beating down on the state of Montana, fraying nerves and spreading wildfires. They’d been on their way home from a music festival when they convinced Grace to stop in at a bar outside of Missoula. Grace had been nervous from the start, but she was the outnumbered newcomer to the group so she reluctantly agreed when they said it would be fun to have an adventure. They hadn’t grown up in the same world as Grace. They’d underestimated the mistrust ingrained in people outside their circle, so they thought they wouldn’t be found out. They’d even gone so far as to claim that they were guilty of nothing more than wanting a cold beverage, but Grace knew better and so did every regular sitting in the bar that evening. These women were there to mock them. They’d saddled up onto barstools instead of sitting down quietly in a booth. They’d laughed a little too loudly and whispered a little too often. Grace didn’t dare join in, preferring to sit quietly and stare at the sweat gathering on the outside of her water glass. She could feel the tension rise with each of her friends’ high-pitched shrieks. They were passing judgment. They found the prominent displays of patriotism and religion hilarious, while the pro-NRA bumper stickers plastered to the wall above the bar were deemed barbaric. They’d read the names beneath the photos of the young local men and women serving in
the military with reverence but instead of supporting the cause they were fighting for, they’d questioned America’s military aggression a little too loudly.
Grace had met the bartender’s gaze. It was a warning. She’d told the others she was leaving with or without them. There must have been something in her tone. They finally noticed what was happening. All the men in the bar were standing, arms folded and openly hostile.
Lara hadn’t been frightened. She’d been indignant. She was so used to having right on her side that she couldn’t deal with being silenced by all that she felt was wrong with the world. She announced it was a free country and she wasn’t going anywhere. A man the size of a mountain threatened to send her home in a body bag if she didn’t go quietly. Taylor took hold of Lara’s arm and told her to shut the fuck up. Clare and Pippa were already heading toward the door. Grace had wanted to leave too but Lara wasn’t backing down. She’d pulled away from Taylor and turned to order another drink.
The man hovered above them. “I told you to leave.”
Grace found herself staring into his wide chest. Tattoos ran down the length of his arms and a baseball cap shaded his bearded face. A company name and logo were embroidered into his shirt pocket. Cross Border Trucking had once employed hundreds of men in Montana. The owner had been universally feared. Grace was hoping his name still carried weight. Her voice had cracked.
“Did you work for Arnold Lamm?” she asked.
She had the man’s full attention.
“Yeah. Who’s asking?”
“His niece.”
There’d been a pause. He was clearly deciding whether she was taking the piss.
“Then you know I’m not someone your friends should mess with.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought them in here. It was disrespectful.”
“It’s Grace, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t want to see you or your friends around here again.”
It was the only time Grace had ever seen Lara back down from a fight. She’d recognized Arnold’s name and understood the context. It was how she’d figured out who Grace really was. The group didn’t speak again until they were safely loaded back into Grace’s truck and driving away. Her friends had been in awe of Grace.
You actually know these people.
Grace checked the early morning traffic moving along Main Street again. There was still no sign of Jordan’s Bronco, but Lara had left the café and was standing on the sidewalk waiting for a break in the traffic so she could cross the street. She handed Grace a takeaway cup of coffee and a bagel before settling back down in the driver’s seat of her car. She placed the pencil sketch of Jordan on the dashboard.
“I had a good look around the café but I didn’t see him,” said Lara.
“It’s still early.”
“Steve really should give you a raise. How many coffee-drinking stalkers does this make so far? Ten?”
“There have only been five. Did you speak to Steve?” asked Grace.
“Yes, I gave him the whole sob story about you having to go to the hospital this morning, so there’s no chance you’re going to lose your job anytime soon. To his credit, he’s really worried about you. By the way, when were you going to tell me you were going on a date with him?”
“He’s not your favorite person.”
“You still could have told me. It’s what friends do.”
Grace saw Jordan’s Bronco in the side-view mirror. He was pulling into a parking space a few spaces behind them.
“Jordan is behind us,” said Grace. “He’s in the green Bronco that just pulled in.”
Lara squealed. “This is so exciting.”
Grace thumped Lara hard on the thigh with her fist.
“What the hell, Grace? That hurt!”
Grace took hold of both of Lara’s hands and looked her in the eye. “Calm down or we’re going home. We really don’t know shit about this guy.”
Lara had already forgotten she’d been hit. Her eyes went wide as she looked into the rearview mirror.
“Get down,” she said. “He’s coming this way.”
Seconds later Jordan was walking across the street to the café.
“So, that’s what a stalker looks like,” said Lara. “Not exactly threatening.”
“They don’t exactly advertise their intentions, hence the stalking.”
“I have an idea,” said Lara. She reached for the door handle. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To have a look in his car. It might be unlocked.”
“Are you out of your mind? Stay here.”
“It will be fine. Beep the horn when he comes out of the café. Better yet,” she said, throwing Grace the car keys, “get behind the wheel in case we need to make a quick getaway.”
Grace climbed into the driver’s seat, accidentally tipping hot coffee all over her pants. She dabbed it up with a napkin. Her hands shook so much she could barely buckle the seatbelt.
Grace adjusted the rearview mirror so she had a good view of Jordan’s Bronco. So far Lara was staying out of sight. On the other side of the street things were going along as predicted. Jordan was standing in line at the counter, staring up at the menu board like he was actually thinking of ordering something other than a large filtered coffee, his usual drink. It only took seconds to prepare. This worried Grace.
Grace glanced in the rearview mirror again. She couldn’t believe Lara had been crazy enough to get inside Jordan’s Bronco. Grace craned her neck to get a better view but there was no sign of her friend. She cursed under her breath.
A delivery truck pulled up next to Lara’s car and idled as it waited for the light at the nearby intersection to change. Grace could no longer see inside the café so she had no idea what Jordan was doing. She pressed the car horn several times and checked the mirrors but Lara didn’t return as promised. Grace put the key in the ignition and prayed the car would start. She checked the rearview mirror one last time.
Jordan was already at the wheel of the Bronco but Lara was nowhere to be seen.
Grace started the car and put it into gear. When the delivery truck finally moved forward, Jordan pulled in right behind it. Grace’s phone beeped. There was a text from Lara on the screen.
I’m still inside his car. Help!
Grace gunned the engine and squeezed Lara’s car into the lane without waiting for a break in the traffic. The driver behind her sounded their horn several times, but Grace kept her eyes on the road ahead. Only two cars separated her from the Bronco.
Jordan took a left on Talbot Road seconds before the light changed. Grace was the first in line at the red light. She leaned far forward so she could see down the length of the side road. The Bronco was moving fast. The light changed to green but Grace didn’t wait for the intersection to clear before swinging the car out in front of the oncoming traffic. She raced north on Talbot Road. She didn’t see Jordan’s Bronco again until five blocks later. She took a right on Honey Street and followed him at a safe distance. The residential neighborhood quickly gave way to open countryside. Grace checked how much gas was left in the tank. If this kept up much longer she’d be driving on fumes.
Jordan’s Bronco turned onto an isolated dirt road and Grace fell back even farther. Lara’s car wasn’t built for this type of terrain. It felt like it was losing engine parts every time Grace hit a bump. It was another few miles before Jordan pulled into a driveway in front of a double-wide mobile home. Grace parked next to a tree and waited. There didn’t appear to be any vehicles other than a couple junked cars that were parked in front of a shed at the rear of the property. A stand of pine trees flanked the mobile home on its north side and if Grace had her bearings correct, the Gallatin River was probably a little farther along.
The Bronco’s driver’s side door opened and Jordan stepped out into the sunshine. He seemed relaxed. He held a cup of coffee in one hand and a cell phone in the other. He slowly ma
de his way toward the porch.
Grace’s ringtone was loud. She accepted the incoming call without looking at the name of the person on the other end of the line.
“Grace? It’s Jordan.”
Grace watched him from the car. She nodded.
“Grace, are you there?”
She nodded again. Her voice was weak. “Yes.”
“You weren’t at work.”
Jordan continued to walk across the scrubby lawn. She waited until he’d reached the front door before responding.
“I’m not feeling well,” she blurted out.
“I hope it’s not serious. Did you get your package?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“You don’t sound pleased.”
“I am. I said thank you.”
Jordan stepped inside the mobile home and shut the door behind him. Grace decided the best thing she could do was keep him talking. If he was on the phone she would know what he was doing. The Bronco was parked about twenty feet from the road, but there was a lot of cover under the nearby trees. Lara would be okay as long as she kept out of sight. Grace edged the car forward cautiously. The land was fairly open so there wasn’t much in the way of shelter.
“Grace, are you still there?” he said.
“Sorry, there are a lot of people around so it’s difficult to talk.”
“I thought you said you were sick.”
“Sorry, I’m going to put you on hold while I step outside. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
There were eighteen text messages from Lara and two missed calls. Grace didn’t have time to read them. She typed quickly.
Lara, get out of the car and go toward the road. I’m just beyond the trees on the right.
Grace hit send and went back to her phone call with Jordan.
“Jordan, are you still there? I’m sorry about that.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m surprised you don’t know.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“What do you want from me?” asked Grace.
“I just want to talk to you about what happened in Collier. I know there’s more to the story.”
Grace drove past Jordan’s home at a normal speed. Lara’s car was a fairly nondescript dusty sedan with over 200,000 miles on it. She was hoping Jordan wouldn’t recognize it.
Silent Rain Page 14
