Who? Why? What did the guilty party want?
“Sarah, did you hear me?”
“What?” Sarah asked, when Angie snapped her fingers in front of her face.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. What did you say?”
“I said my Uncle Scott thinks I should consider adoption. I wondered what you thought.”
“Oh, Angie, I can’t tell you one way or another. It has to be you and your family’s decision.”
Angie made a face as if she’d stuck a lemon in her mouth. “I knew you’d say that. This sucks.”
Sarah smiled. “It does suck.”
“When Uncle Scott said adoption I thought in my stomach or gut or whatever, wow, that sounds right, you know what I mean?”
“Yes, I do. But before you decide anything you should consider this from all angles.”
“I know. Uncle Scott said that too.”
Sarah patted Angie. “You’re a great kid, whatever you do, do what’s right for you, not what anyone else wants.”
Angie pushed back her hair, and smiled. “Thank you. It helps hearing that.”
Sarah swallowed over the sudden lump in her throat. This kid affected her. She was so sweet and so totally sad. It broke her heart contemplating the decisions facing Angie. “What does your mother say?”
“My mother wasn’t feeling well last night so we didn’t talk about it with her.”
Sarah nearly groaned out loud. Could Vanessa possibly ever do the right thing by her daughter? “I think you should make her talk with you.”
“I was thinking that too. She’s been so hard to pin down since she found out about all this. Like avoiding me will make this go away or something.”
“I think she’s mad at herself for somehow not preventing you from getting into the same situation she was in when she was sixteen.”
“Like mother, like daughter?”
“Something like that. Is that why you didn’t tell them for so long?”
Angie nodded her hair hanging forward. “Yes. You easily get me. That’s what I like about you, you say how it is, but in a nice way.”
Sarah should say something in defense of Vanessa, but the energy was beyond her. Finally, after what felt like a twenty-hour shift, not her normal ten, it was closing time. Scott would be there soon collecting Angie, so she could finally figure out what to do about the horrendous picture.
When Scott came in, she nearly jumped on him. “I need to talk with you.”
Scott stiffened. “About last night?”
“Yes. Please. It’s important.”
He frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll drop off Angie and be back.”
“Hurry.”
Sarah paced her small living room as she waited for Scott glancing at the clock every few minutes. How long did it take to drop off Angie? Finally, there was a knock at her door.
Scott started speaking before she shut the door behind him. “Look, I get you’re probably disturbed about last night, and Angie staying with Vanessa after what you witnessed. She just—”
Sarah nearly bit her tongue. He never stopped obsessing about Vanessa. “It’s not that woman! Everything doesn’t center around Vanessa Peters.”
Scott stepped back at her vehement tone. His gaze searched her face. “I know that.”
“Do you?” She grabbed the picture and pushed it toward him. “This is why you’re here. I found it in the envelope you picked up off my doorstep. I didn’t bother to open it until this morning.”
Scott looked at the paper. He blinked… twice, and then his eyes shot up.
“Holy shit. This is you. Last night.”
“Yes. It was taken and delivered in the scant hour before we ended up back here.”
“Someone was watching you? Why?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been freaked out all day.”
“You sat on this all day? You should have called me right off. Better yet, call the police.”
“I didn’t think I had the right to call the police.”
He tilted his head. “You do know police are there to protect and serve you? Especially when you’re threatened?”
She fell onto the couch, shoulders slumped. “I was threatened? You think so too?”
Scott sat down next to her, taking up half the couch with his long body, his knee bumping into her, his elbow knocking her arm, and she was momentarily snapped out of fear by the sudden racing of her blood at his nearness.
“Are you really doubting if this is serious?”
“I just don’t want to be an alarmist, you know? A screaming, idiotic female. Maybe it’s just a prank.”
He studied her. “I see. Like the hang up calls, it’s all just harmless pranks? No, this is far more than a prank. This is weird, some kind of blatant threat toward you. This isn’t funny.”
Her skin chilled several degrees. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Call the police.”
“I can’t. What do I say? I had a picture taken of me?”
“Yes. A picture that was strangely taken and even more strangely delivered.”
“Where were we last night? Whose place was that? Could that person have done this? As some kind of punishment for being there?”
“Let’s go find out.”
“We?”
He got up and put a hand out pulling her up. She was confused by how flustered she got over such a simple, almost brotherly gesture.
“Yeah. We. I’m the one who took you there.”
Once in his truck, Cookie comfortably between them, Sarah scratched Cookie’s neck, finding the dog’s presence comforting, something sane to concentrate on instead of focusing on her sudden anxiety over the picture, and her increasing attraction to Scott.
“Whose trailer is this? Vanessa’s boyfriend’s?”
“Someone she shouldn’t see. Vanessa acts out when she’s upset.”
“Is that what you call it?”
Scott shot her a look. “He’s an artist who has the trailer as his art studio. He doesn’t really live there. The asshole thinks it gives his art grit or some such shit. He lives in town in a pretty little two bedroom cottage. He comes to the trailer to get high and paint, paintings that hardly ever sell, I might add.”
“And why is Vanessa into that?”
“She can only be normal for so long.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Vanessa tries being a good mom, and person. Sometimes the pressure of it gets to her, and if bad things happen, like Angie’s pregnancy, she kind of freaks out and acts like what you saw.”
“You knew she’d call you like that?”
“I didn’t know exactly when, but yeah, I knew at some point she’d call.”
“Do you realize she calls you for attention? So she can keep you at her beck and call.”
“There’s not much about Vanessa I don’t notice, Sarah,” he said his tone quiet. She didn’t know how to take it. Did he mean he was well aware of Vanessa’s considerable faults, or did he notice her because he was so attracted to her? Or worse, because he so loved her?
“Maybe you shouldn’t always answer her calls, make her grow up. Act like an adult. Doesn’t she think we all would like to run away from the responsibilities of life? Must be nice doing it for real.”
“I get what you think about Vanessa. But you really don’t know everything where she’s concerned. Give me enough credit that I’m not stupid or blind to what she does. And no one walks all over me. Especially not Vanessa. I know what Vanessa does, and why she does it, far better than you do. So drop it, okay? There’s stuff about her I’m not going into with you now or ever.”
Sarah crossed her arms over her chest annoyed that Scott had given her a dressing down, once again, in defense of that vile creature that ruled his house.
“She certainly does come first with you, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, she does. Get used to it.”
Well, that answered that, didn’t it? If she had been digging around about Vanessa because she might harbor a minor, maybe, almost crush toward Scott, then she had her answer, didn’t she? There was Vanessa, first, foremost, and always. But what did that say about Scott? Other than he made it very clear that no one would ever come before Vanessa.
They pulled into the trailer and hustled toward the front door. “Someone took a picture of you from over there.”
She shuddered. She’d been standing there all alone with someone lurking, watching her, not ten feet away in the dark bushes. “But why did someone do that?”
“I don’t know.”
Sarah shivered. She looked back at the truck with the same view as her mysterious, almost, maybe stalker.
Scott knocked, there was no answer. He turned the knob and walked in. No one appeared, so Sarah cautiously stepped into the trailer. She was met with a foul odor. There was ratty carpet impossible to tell the color of, with trash, overflowing off the coffee table and scattered onto the floor. She gingerly stepped her way through, avoiding stepping on things, and breathing through her mouth. The place was dim as no daylight was let through, and a layer of smoke clung on the ceilings, and walls.
“Someone finds this inspiration for their art?”
Scott turned at her voice, studied her face and grinned. “Yeah. Here look at what this inspires.” He pointed toward a canvas lying on the kitchen table. It was a dark scene, a city alley, a cat, a dumpster, hypodermic needles lying about, and in one corner a tiny daisy growing.
Sarah stared at the oil painting. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but it’s actually kind of good.”
Scott jerked back surprised. “You think this is good?”
“Well, it’s not anything I’d decorate my walls with, but the whole vision, the concept, even the actual painting technique is pretty good.”
“It’s ugly. But it seems Vanessa and you have something in common. She thinks he’s a genius too. Hence, why she comes here.”
“Who is he?”
“A creep named Vinnie Mason. But he goes by Giovanni.”
How did any of this relate to her? Why would someone follow her? Scott snooped around, glancing in drawers and into the bedrooms. It was so wrong being in there, even if the guy was a creep. She had no right to be breaking into his property.
“There’s nothing here. I just don’t see how this guy could have anything against you. He can’t even know who you are,” Scott said coming from what she assumed was the bathroom.
“I agree. Someone followed us here.”
Scott nodded, hands on his hips. “Meaning they followed you to the clinic, and dinner.”
She shivered. It was getting dark out. She was terrified Vinnie Mason would drive up and find them inside his trailer. She was terrified what it meant that someone had followed her to three different destinations. She was confused and scared. A feeling she’d never really had in her life.
“Can we leave?”
“I would like nothing better than to never see this hell hole again,” Scott said, as he came over, took her arm and led her out of there. Finally, they were back on the road, and she already felt better.
“You need to go the police.”
“I don’t understand this. What does this person want of me? And what do I do about it?
“There is no understanding it. And I just told you what to do.”
She shook her head and bit her lip. The frustration of this made her want to scream. “But why me?”
“I have no idea. You have any exes out there? Anyone you’ve dumped take it badly? Any guys want to date you who you won’t give the time of day to?”
She shook her head vehemently. “No and no. There’s no one.”
He raised an eye brow at her and quirked his lips up. “No one? Ever? Someone who liked you and you never noticed?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Or you just didn’t notice.”
She blew out a breath. “So, it’s my fault if I didn’t know someone liked me?”
“No, of course not. I’m just pointing out it is a possibility with you.”
“Why? Because I didn’t notice you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve said I’m sorry about a dozen times now. Would it help if I signed your yearbook or something? Gave you my senior picture?”
The corner of Scott’s mouth turned up. “It might have a long time ago. But I’m over it. I was making a point. You asked who and why, I was pointing out who and why it could be. But don’t mistake me, I don’t think you are to blame whatever the reasons.”
“I was starting to think you did think that. Then I couldn’t like you.”
He slowly turned his head from the road. His eyes started on her head and skimmed over her. He grinned as he faced forward again. “So, you do like me?”
“No. I just like your niece.”
“God, you’re hard on a guy’s ego.”
“Well, some guys don’t need my help with their egos.”
He grinned in what seemed like appreciation. Of what? Her humor? Not many people found her humor all that interesting or anything worth appreciating. Huh. Something to consider.
“So, do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Well, back to my original point, report this with the police.”
“How?”
“Walk those pretty legs of yours in, sit down and talk, something you’re good at.”
“Was that a compliment or an insult?”
“Just go to the police.”
She faced forward and nearly shrieked. “What? Now?”
“Right now,” he said, as he was already swinging his truck into the parking lot of the local police station.
It was a relatively painless process filing a police report. The detective she talked to was helpful and didn’t make her feel stupid for being there. His name was Ken Swanson, and he was in his fifties, tall, with a gaunt frame, thick glasses and a kind smile. He took her worries seriously, and didn’t blow her off or call what happened a harmless prank she should deal with on her own. He took the time to give her some pointers about precautions she should take.
They would monitor her phone calls and apartment. So, until she had anything further, there was nothing more to do but keep her eyes open.
“Thank you, for making me go.”
Scott shrugged. “I didn’t do much.”
He’d stayed with her the entire hour at the police station. He’d stayed in the background, quiet, letting her tell her story, while only adding things she missed. All the while she could feel his gaze on her. It made her extremely nervous. And extremely aware of him. He drove her home, parked and walked with her into the apartment.
“Well, at least you made me do something. I don’t know what to think of this.”