When We Let Go - Delancey Stewart (ebook reader ink txt) 📗

Considering I was on deadline, I wasn’t doing a lot of writing. I was doing a lot of sitting on the deck, staring at a blank computer screen and wishing for things that would never be.

That’s what I was busy doing when two police cruisers pulled into the open space in front of the deck and two officers marched to the front door to knock. Though I would’ve liked to hide inside, I knew that wasn’t a mature reaction, nor would it get me out of the situation I found myself in now.

I’d already been notified that Amanda Terry had filed a restraining order, and I’d gotten a few strange messages and letters to suggest there was something else going on, though I hadn’t figured out exactly what it was quite yet. I’d turned that evidence over to the police, and they had looked at me as though I were a child, offering up a handful of rocks I’d collected, calling them diamonds. Evidently the local law enforcement already had an opinion about me, and in their minds, I was not the victim.

I hadn’t been terribly worried about any of it. Until now.

“Hello officers,” I said, greeting the two men who stood in the doorway.

“Hello sir, Detectives Rawley and Jensen.” The taller man introduced them. “Do you have a few minutes?”

“What is this about?” I asked.

“Maybe we could come in?”

“Do you have a warrant?” I wasn’t a cop or a lawyer, but I’d watched a lot of television and done an awful lot of research for my books.

“No sir,” Rawley shifted his weight, looked uncomfortable. “Just some questions. About Amanda Terry?”

I sighed, turning and waving the detectives in. They climbed the stairs just inside the entrance, stepping into the open living area above. The whole house was built around a giant boulder overlooking a meadow in the back. The boulder had been carved out to make the fireplace. It was startling to those who hadn’t seen it before, and both detectives stopped for a moment and stared.

“Nice place,” Detective Jensen said, in the same tone of voice you might use to say, “I hate this place.”

“Thanks.” I gestured toward the couch, and the two men sat. I sighed and sat in the armchair next to the couch. “So.” I hoped we could do this quickly. I had a novel I was procrastinating.

“How do you know Ms. Terry?”

“She asked me to meet with her a few times to talk about writing. It was set up through the high school.” I’d already explained this to the first policemen who’d dropped by, but I doubted it would help me to point that out.

“And you are aware that Ms. Terry is a minor?” Jensen asked.

I nodded.

“So any sexual relationship would be inappropriate and a crime in the eyes of the law,” he pressed.

“There’s nothing going on here like that,” I assured them, leaning forward with my forearms on my knees. “Nothing.”

“Ms. Terry’s father has stated something different. He says there was a romantic element to the relationship, that she ended it and you have had a hard time accepting that.” Jensen spoke slowly, as if he was reminding me of something I’d simply forgotten.

“That’s not true,” I said. “Ms. Terry alluded once to her desire for the relationship to become romantic, but I told her exactly what you just told me. That it would be inappropriate, not to mention illegal.”

“Were that not the case, would you pursue Ms. Terry?” Rawlings asked, suddenly leaning forward and inserting himself into the conversation.

“No.”

The detectives exchanged a look.

“Mr. Charles, you already know that Ms. Terry has filed a restraining order. But her family has also asked us to look into criminal charges of stalking. They’ve asserted that you’ve made repeated attempts to reach Ms. Terry, have followed her and sent her handwritten notes, that you drive by the house regularly. She feels unsafe.” Jensen concluded his statement and watched me for a reaction.

It would be worthless to point out that half of Kings Grove drove by the Terry place regularly since it sat on the corner of the road into town. I’d been going out of my way not to drive by lately. “Am I under arrest?” I asked.

“Not at this time.”

“Do you have the evidence I submitted?” I asked. “The first officers who came by gave it to you?”

The officers exchanged a look and the taller one actually rolled his eyes. “We have it, but there’s not a lot we can do with it.”

“Do I need an attorney?”

“Probably.” Jensen and Rawlings stood then, and I saw them to the door. They departed after suggesting I shouldn’t be planning to leave the area.

I returned to the deck once they had gone, and called my agent to put me in touch with a lawyer.