SVU Surveillance

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  “There’s a note,” she said. “Let me know if you need anything.” She closed the door on her way out, leaving Gwen alone once more.

  She moved to the desk and tugged the note free from the container.

  Now you don’t need to go out.

  See you at 6.

  Lucas.

  She collapsed into her chair with a smile and shook her head at the nonsense she’d put herself through. No one was throwing pebbles at her second-floor window. And even if someone was, they were gone now, and she wasn’t alone anymore. She had Lucas, and she was going to count her blessing on that fact every minute until her personal nightmare was over.

  * * *

  THE OFFICE EMPTIED quickly at five o’clock. A few coworkers had joked about waiting for a look at Gwen’s ride home, but thankfully no one had been willing to wait an extra hour. Gwen bit into her apple, having saved the sweet treat for exactly this moment. A nice reminder that even when Lucas wasn’t physically with her, she still wasn’t alone.

  Collin appeared outside her open door and smiled, redirecting his path. “You’ve been busy,” he said, stepping into the doorway and leaning casually against the jamb. “I was going to see if you were hungry at lunch today, but word around the office is that you got delivery.”

  “I did.” She set the bitten apple on her desk and pressed her lips into a smile. “Rain check?” she asked, regretting the words immediately. She didn’t want a rain check. Her neatly arranged world didn’t have room for rain checks or plans of any sort. Especially now. The fewer people who were dragged into her mess, the better.

  “Sure thing.” Collin winked. “But I’ve got to tell you, those rain checks are adding up. Pretty soon you’re going to have to cash them in for dinner. Or a pony.”

  Gwen laughed. “I’ve always wanted a pony.”

  Collin hung his head and mimed stabbing himself in the chest as he walked away.

  Her smile lingered as she went back to her apple.

  Almost five thirty, and Lucas would be back for her soon. Her bag was packed and waiting at her feet. Until then, she dared an internet search for recent attacks at Bellemont College. There were plenty of minor incidents and the usual reports of male-on-female crimes, but nothing like what she’d experienced.

  She enjoyed the sweet crunch of her snack as she performed a wider search, broadening the parameters from the college to the community, then the city and county.

  A door slammed somewhere in the quiet building, and she jolted upright.

  A chorus of voices arrived with the elevator, blurring into gibberish before being drowned out by the sounds of vacuum cleaners.

  The cleaning crew.

  Gwen turned to her window, peering into the parking lot for confirmation.

  The rear door to her building was propped open, and two uniformed women chatted while unloading trays of cleansers and carts of supplies.

  She breathed easier, then returned to her desk as her phone buzzed with an incoming text.

  On my way. Running late. See you soon.

  She pushed the rest of her apple into the trash and rested her head in her hands for a long beat, regaining her composure and reminding herself she was safe.

  Lucas’s words returned to her from the night before. He’d said she wasn’t a victim anymore, but the truth was that she’d never stopped being one. Her attack had changed her. Had altered her very being. And afterward, she’d built a nice, safe life around herself in an active attempt to keep the monster at bay.

  And now, he was back.

  The vacuums and voices fell silent at six o’clock.

  Gwen wiped a tear she hadn’t realized was forming. Her shaking hands were white-knuckled and curled into fists she hadn’t meant to make.

  Outside, an engine revved to life, and she breathed easier. The cleaning crew was leaving.

  Her phone buzzed, and she nearly wept with relief when she saw it was Lucas.

  I’m here. Building’s locked. Have a good day?

  Yep

  She pried her body from the chair and collected her bag.

  On my way.

  She opened her office door and froze.

  The dimmed space around her was charged with an uncomfortable energy. Her instincts rose to attention, reaching out, trying to place the source of the alarm.

  Then she heard it. A continuous, muffled sound that scattered goose bumps across her skin and rooted her feet into place. She dialed Lucas.

  “Hey,” he answered. “Sorry I was running late. There was an accident on—”

  “Shh,” she whispered, feeling the panic twist and grind inside her. “Something’s wrong. I think someone’s here.”

  Lucas didn’t respond for a long beat. “What’s the security code for the building?” he asked.

  She recited the numbers quickly, then stepped back into her office.

  Images of sliding down the wall into a sobbing heap on the floor crossed her mind. Shoving her desk against the locked door. Even jumping from her window. Anything to stop her former attacker from getting his hands on her again. She’d die first.

  No, she thought, suddenly, forcing the desperation from her head. No. She’d worked hard to vanquish those kinds of thoughts. To recover. To heal. Her lips trembled as she recalled the sleepless nights spent in a ball on her closet floor. Hiding. Crying. Praying he’d never find her. And how she’d finally vowed to stop letting him control her.

  Gwen grabbed the large pewter Employee of the Year award from her credenza and gripped it like a baseball bat.

  She was done running.

  Done giving this psycho all the little pieces of herself one by one.

  She marched toward the sounds. Down the narrow hall separating offices from conference rooms, the mail room and employee lounge. She stopped outside the only closed door in the office and steeled her waning resolve. Whatever was going on, it was happening in the mail room.

  “Gwen!” Lucas called. His voice arriving with the ding of the elevator. “Gwen!”

  “Here!” she called back.

  He halted at her side a moment later, drawing his weapon and tucking her behind him as he opened the mail room door.

  Inside, the massive corporate copy machine chugged and spewed its paper contents. Sheet by sheet across the floor.

  A thousand photos of Gwen.

  All recent and surveillance-style.

  Chapter Seven

  Thirty minutes later, Lucas paced through Gwen’s office while she relayed the details of her situation to a local detective and a pair of officers processed the copier.

  “And that’s everything,” Gwen said, having held her composure through a retelling of her past that made Lucas want to scream.

  Special Victims Detective Heidi Anderson perched primly in a chair across from Gwen’s desk. Her sleek blond hair hung neatly around her face, tucked behind her ears and barely reaching her shoulders. “And you believe the person who printed the photos tonight is the same man who attacked you six years ago?” she asked, sharp brown eyes narrowing behind dark-rimmed glasses.

  “It’s just a guess,” Gwen answered. “Whoever it is, he knows where I work and jog, and that I went to Bellemont College. I suppose it’s possible that someone else is doing this. Maybe someone on the periphery of my current life has become obsessed. I’d actually prefer that,” she said with a sad smile. “Because I know what my attacker is capable of.”

  The detective dipped her chin in understanding. “I’m very sorry.”

  Gwen nodded back acceptance, then released a shuddered breath and pressed on. “Unfortunately, I can’t link anything to my assailant. Aside from the location of the attack, all he left behind was an ugly aftermath.”

  Detective Anderson nodded. “I understand. And you reached out to Detective Winchester after you found the flyer on your winds
hield?” she clarified. “Because the attack was in his town and the college on the flyer is also in his jurisdiction?”

  Gwen looked to Lucas before answering.

  Detective Anderson arched a brow. “Was it something more?”

  “Yes,” Gwen said, and Lucas stilled. “We were engaged at the time of my attack.”

  The detective looked from Gwen to Lucas, then back. “I see. But you aren’t together now.”

  “No.”

  “But you’ve remained close,” she guessed.

  Gwen shifted on her chair. “No.” She folded her hands on the desk before her and stared at them. “I contacted Lucas when I found the flyer because he knows what happened to me, and until right now, I’ve never told anyone other than family, law enforcement and medical personnel. Anyone who read about it in the paper back then has surely forgotten about it, along with the first responders and medical staff who cared for me. I don’t keep in touch with the friends I had then. So, aside from my parents, Lucas is the only one who would understand why I thought a simple homecoming invitation might be a threat.”

  The frank and emotionless assessment hit Lucas like a cold fist to his gut, and he reeled at the response. He’d known the words were true, but hearing her say them gave him an unexpected pause. Gwen had come to him last night because she had no one else to go to. Not because she trusted him to protect her and to get her through this. Not because she wanted to see him again. Or because they’d always made a phenomenal team. But because she’d been avoiding this very situation. She hadn’t wanted to talk about what she’d been through, and with Lucas, she didn’t have to.

  Detective Anderson uncrossed, then recrossed her legs. “Any chance this has anything to do with you?” she asked, moving her gaze to Lucas. “SVU detective’s fiancée goes through something like you described, and I’ve got to ask, could her attack have been motivated by an angry criminal you collared?”

  “I was a student at the time,” Lucas said, clearing his throat when the words came thick and gravelly. “I joined the academy after her attack, when the local PD came up empty-handed.”

  She cocked her head and frowned. “So, after going through something like that, you decided to make a career out of it?”

  “No,” Lucas said sharply. “Not like that.”

  “Well, it wasn’t for the glory or the money,” she said, a remorseful lilt to her tone.

  “I wanted to find the man who did this,” he said. “I wanted revenge and justice and some assurance that he’d never hurt anyone else or Gwen ever again.”

  Gwen covered her mouth, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

  “He’s still out there, but I’ve helped put plenty of others like him away,” Lucas said. “And I’m not finished with this guy yet.”

  “Hmm.” Detective Anderson looked from Lucas to Gwen. “I think I have everything I need.” She closed the notebook she’d been making notes in. “I’ll be in touch once the fingerprints from the mail room and copier are run and we’ve scanned the security feed from the parking lot cameras.”

  “The parking lot,” Gwen whispered. She spun to face Lucas, eyes wide. “Someone was outside my window before lunch. Throwing pebbles and acorns, then a rock. I convinced myself I’d imagined it after looking and finding no one out there, but maybe someone was here.”

  Lucas nodded.

  “Detective Anderson?” A man’s voice turned everyone toward the door. One of the officers from the mail room stepped inside. “We found a thumb drive in the copier’s USB port.” He held a small evidence bag between his thumb and first finger.

  “Excellent,” she said, rising to her feet. “Then maybe we’ll get some answers.” She extended a hand to Gwen, then Lucas. “Ms. Kind, Detective,” she said. “I’ll be in touch. Please keep me posted if anything else comes up.”

  “Of course.” Lucas shook her offered hand. “Thank you.”

  * * *

  GWEN WATCHED AS Lucas crossed the space from her kitchen to her living room, delivering a steaming mug of tea to her hands. She’d curled on her couch, tucked her feet beneath her and pulled a pillow onto her lap, unable to do more than stare. “Thanks,” she whispered. Her feeble attempts to process the evening had failed repeatedly. Nothing made any sense anymore. Least of all the fact that her carefully and tightly constructed world was suddenly unraveling.

  Lucas took a seat on the cushion beside her and watched as she sipped her tea. “I think you should consider taking the rest of the week off work,” he said. “Your boss knows what went on tonight. Detective Anderson spoke with her earlier. I think you could use the time to focus on what’s happening.”

  “I know,” Gwen said, instantly recalling the humiliation she’d felt listening to the detective’s call. She’d been discreet in her words, but had made it clear, nonetheless, that the intended victim was Gwen. And there were no secrets in her office.

  She had plenty of unused vacation time, and she wasn’t in any hurry to face Marina or Debbie. They’d seen Lucas’s truck this morning when he’d dropped her off, and likely noted the police shield sticker on the back window. They’d make the connection between her trouble and her protector. And there would be questions. “I’ll call the office tomorrow,” she agreed. “I’m sure they’ll understand.”

  Lucas raised his brows. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  He rubbed his palms against his thighs and a small smile formed. “I’d expected a fight.”

  “Sorry.” She sighed. “I’m fresh out of fight. At least for tonight.”

  His expression turned soft, and he clasped his hands on his lap.

  “Don’t,” she warned, shooting him a look over the rim of her mug. She’d seen that look before on a dozen people, and she hated it. “Don’t you dare pity me. I’m just tired, and I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

  “I don’t pity you,” he said, his tone gentle enough to break her. “I meant what I said before. You aren’t a victim anymore, Gwen. I saw it the moment I set eyes on you in my precinct. You’re a fighter. And I’m here to fight with you.”

  “I’m not a fighter,” she said, wishing he was right, but feeling the defeat of exhaustion slipping over her.

  “Really?” He laughed. “Because it wasn’t two hours ago I found you with some kind of silver vase on your shoulder, ready to take out whoever was on the other side of your mail room door.”

  Gwen laughed, surprised by his words and at herself in the memory. “That was my Employee of the Year award, not a vase.”

  Lucas grinned.

  “I just want this to end,” she said. Frustration and fatigue warred in her, but her mind wouldn’t let her sleep, not yet, even if she tried. Her stomach growled, and she knew she’d have to deal with that first. “Are you hungry?” They’d missed dinner thanks to the lunatic trying to scare her.

  “A little,” Lucas said. “But there’s something else I want to run by you.” He inched closer and pierced her with a sincere and hopeful gaze. “I think we should stay at my place through the weekend. Get out of town. This guy is getting bolder, and it worries me. I can protect you here, if he manages to get to you, somehow, but if we’re at my place, we might be able to avoid that scenario completely. Focus on figuring out who he is, then go after him instead of the other way around.”

  Gwen gripped the bunching muscles in her shoulders and along her neck. She hadn’t spent the night anywhere else in years. Her home was safe and familiar. Her life was composed of closed-circuit routes and routines that were easy to monitor and guard. Or so she’d thought. “Can I take a shower and think about it?” she asked, smiling when he grinned. She’d made a similar request earlier, and thankfully, he’d agreed.

  Her need to consider everything thoroughly probably seemed odd to someone whose career required him to make split-second decisions, but for Gwen, thinking things through provided a layer of assurance
she needed. She could have and should have gotten a ride home, like her friends had, on the night of her attack, but she’d refused. She was so naively filled with joy and promise that she’d chosen to walk home on a whim. She wanted to enjoy the crisp fall air, distant sounds of parties and laughter, and bask in the fact that her life was utterly perfect, on a beautiful campus, under the stars. And she had for a while. If only she’d taken time to think about the potential consequences...

  She pushed onto her feet without waiting for Lucas’s response, then made her way down the hall, her eyes already on fire with the sting of rising tears.

  * * *

  GWEN STEPPED BACK into the hallway an hour later. Scents of rich, salty cheese and warm, buttery bread rose to meet her. She’d let herself have the breakdown she needed under the stream of hot water, and imagined the heartbreak, the fear and desperation circling the drain at her feet. She gave in to the feelings under her terms, and she let them go on her terms, as well. Down the drain beside her tears. She’d emerged from the shower with renewed resolve, with purpose and with hope.

  Now, in her softest jeans and coziest sweater, wild curls swelling around her face as they dried, she padded toward her kitchen on socked feet. Toward the handsome man whistling at her stove. “Twice in one day?” she asked, sliding onto a stool at her island to admire the view.

  Lucas cast an odd look over his shoulder. He flicked the knob on her stove, extinguishing the fire, then removed a perfect grilled cheese sandwich from the skillet. “Don’t you normally eat more than once a day?”

  “Yeah,” she laughed, “but I make it myself.”

  He cut the sandwich into triangles and slid them onto a plate. “I was starting to worry about you in there. You were gone a while. I figured I’d keep myself busy while I waited.”

  Concern darkened his eyes as he delivered the plate to her.

  “I’m fine,” she lied. “Just taking my time.”