Jealousy Junction by Cathryn Grant (rosie project .txt) 📗

“We’ll figure out something,” Jerry said.

It felt like one of those puzzles where there is no answer. You can fiddle with it forever, and it remains a mystery for future generations. If we couldn’t even talk to the guy, if he wasn’t going away, what were we supposed to do? Sit in the house and wait? But for what? What was he planning?

Chapter 12

After that, Tanya proceeded to lock herself in my house. Not just the house, in the guest room. I heard the lock click every night. She scurried out like a scavenging rat to get snacks and wine or beer from the kitchen, then carried her supplies back to her room. She kept the blinds closed all day long.

“I can’t walk past that window and take the chance of him seeing me. Maybe he’ll take me out right there with some type of military weapon.”

I tried not to laugh because it wasn’t funny, and I was upset too. I didn’t know why he would have followed me, asked about me if she was the one he wanted. “I really don’t think—“

“Anything is possible,” she said. “Anything. You don’t know people.”

“I think I know how people are in general. And I’ve known people who were in the military. They don’t run around with weapons.”

“They probably don’t assume friendliness means you’re hitting on them either. So I don’t think your experience applies.”

“You can’t just hide out in the guest room for the next year, or however long it takes.”

“I’m scared, Alexis. You don’t seem to understand that. The guy tried to hit me. That’s the first step over the line, headed toward violence.”

“I’m not saying that’s not a big deal, not at all, ever. But that is a long way from using a sniper rifle or a bazooka to shoot through my living room window.”

“Why did you get that window anyway? And why don’t you have drapes? You’re insane.”

“I like looking out at night.”

“You could still have drapes and leave them open when you want to look out.”

I turned and went into the kitchen. I started boiling water for tea.

A moment later, Tanya was behind me. “Let’s open some wine.”

I sighed. “Okay.”

“Where’s Jerry?”

“Hanging out with some friends.”

She nodded but looked annoyed. “I feel safer when he’s here except that I didn’t like him going out to look for Dave. That was scary. I’m glad he didn’t find him.”

“Sure. So you’re going to hunker down in my guest room for how long? Hoarding food like you’re a little squirrel?”

She laughed.

“It’s not funny, Tanya. You can’t live like this.”

“Better than being dead.”

I carried the wine and two glasses into the dining room, headed toward the living room.

“We can’t go in there.”

“Come on. You’re being ridiculous.”

“What happened to your oh-I’m-so-scared-someone’s-following-me?”

“Maybe seeing you lose it is making me less afraid. He hasn’t done anything. And he never came back to the store to ask more questions.”

“He’s very careful. He’s a planner. I don’t think you’re taking this seriously.”

I set the bottle and glasses on the dining room table. “Well, I’m not drinking wine in the guest room, so I guess you’re on your own. You are anyway because I’m calling the police. Even if you want to live like a prisoner, I do not.”

“No! Please. No! Why won’t you listen to me?”

“I’ll feel safer even if they’re just aware this is going on. We have a very good police force here. They don’t just brush you off.”

Her voice fell to a whisper. “Please don’t. I’m begging you.”

“Sorry, no. This is absurd. That’s why we have police—to keep us safe.”

“They’ll never catch him doing anything. Trust me.”

First, I went into the living room and looked out. Sure enough, Dave was standing there. This time he wasn’t staring at the house. He was leaning against a tree. As I watched, he stuffed a stick of gum into this mouth and began chewing, obviously trying to look like he was just enjoying the evening air, listening to the lap of water on the shore.

Without speaking to Tanya, turning away from her horrified face, I went upstairs and got my cell phone. I called the non-emergency number and explained what had been going on. The dispatcher said she would send a patrol car over my way in about twenty minutes.

When the officer arrived, I met him at the door while Tanya cowered in the guest room, having found the boldness to take the wine bottle and one of the glasses with her.

The officer was gone for over half an hour. He must have walked the entire street and among all the trees along the water and to the next block or two over. When he returned, he told me he hadn’t seen anyone. There were three joggers, a guy on a bike, and a woman walking two dogs.

“Sorry, Ms. Bardue. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“What should I do?”

“Keep an eye out. It’s helpful to keep a log of when a stalker is around, what he’s doing, if he tries to make contact. Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“If anything comes of it. If he gets aggressive, although most of them do not. They just like stirring up fear. They aren’t necessarily violent.”

“Really?”

“Despite what you see in movies.”

“I just…it’s very upsetting. I can’t believe there’s nothing we can do.”

“I’ll put in a request to have more frequent patrols on this street.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

“You have to realize that if his goal is to terrorize you, he’s not going to leave himself exposed. It’s likely he’ll see the patrol car and disappear. But we’ll do our best.”

“Should I call if I see him again?”

“Yes.” He handed me a business card and left.

I went into the guest room. Tanya was sitting up in bed, holding the wineglass, which was nearly empty.

“You have to stop slamming the wine,” I said.

“I told you, it helps me relax.”

“It’s not healthy. And really, if you go too crazy with it, your brain will just get more muddled,