High Anxiety (23 page)

“I’d like to send someone from the crime lab to dust Miss Davis’s work area for fingerprints,” Jenkins said.

“Of course.”

I watched them walk to their patrol car, and a moment later they pulled away. I had never felt so alone. More than anything, I wished Jay was with me. I considered calling him, but I hated to worry him when he had his hands full with the wildfire.

The longer I sat there, the angrier I became. How dare Abigail Davis come into my life and make me feel helpless and scared. How dare she!

I searched my phone book for a tire company. Even though it wasn’t quite seven o’clock in the morning, I got an answer. After telling the employee my situation and giving him the make and model of my car, he promised to come within the hour. Next, I called a locksmith in my area and left a message.

I tried to quell the anxiety that had taken root in my gut the minute I realized what I was up against. I took a deep breath and tried to remember from counseling other stalking victims what to do and what not to do. It echoed what Officers Jenkins and Waters had told me. I would have to start paying closer attention to my surroundings. I’d have to watch my back.

I grabbed a notebook and pen and began making a list of the interactions I’d had with Abigail. Just as I’d been told, I could see a pattern emerging. Why me? I asked myself. What did Abigail want from me?

The locksmith returned my call. The soonest he could meet me was at noon.

My doorbell rang, and I jumped. I closed my eyes and sucked in air. I had to get a grip on the situation, or I would go nuts. I tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole. I was surprised to find Mona on the other side, dressed in her black widow’s wear. Jimbo stood behind her. I unlocked the door and let them in.

“I see the bitch slashed your tires,” Mona said. “I hope you reported it.”

I nodded. “The police just left.” I told her what they’d said.

“They actually believe she’s a stalker?” Mona said.

“Yes. And when I think about it, she fits the description. By the way, what are you doing here so early?”

“Thad called me this morning,” she said. “He’s very concerned about your safety, just as I am. Have you told Jay what’s going on?”

“Not all of it,” I said. “He has enough on his plate.”

“You’re going to have to come home with me until they catch her,” Mona said.

“No. I’m not going to let her run me out of my own home. I refuse to give her that much power.”

“Are you crazy?” Mona said. “You need to do whatever it takes to stay safe.”

The phone rang. When I didn’t make a move toward it, Mona gave me a funny look.

“Let the answering machine pick up,” I said. We waited. I was not surprised to hear Abigail’s voice. She sounded as though she’d been crying. “Kate, I’m sorry I was rude yesterday,” she said, “and I’m sorry I accused you of being responsible when I didn’t get the bank job. I now realize that Mr. Cox would naturally hire the candidate with the most experience.” She sniffed. “I’ll try to reach you later.” She hung up.

Mona looked at me. “Do you think she’s really trying to make amends?”

I shook my head. “Nope. The next time she calls she’ll be furious.”

“Now I know how the term ‘sick puppy’ came into being,” Mona said. “What’s your diagnosis?”

“If she’s not a psychopath, she’s pretty close to it.”

“Well, that settles it. Jimbo and I are going to the office with you.”

“But—”

“It’s not open for debate, Kate,” she said.

When Mona used that tone, I knew it was useless to try to reason with her. “I have to come back at noon to meet a locksmith.”

She nodded. “We can do that.”

“What are you going to tell people when they ask why you’re dressed in mourning clothes?”

She shrugged. “I’ll tell them my parakeet died.”

 

 

“Remember, don’t touch
anything on the desk,” I said as I unlocked the door to my reception room.

“I don’t like that Abigail took the Rolodex,” Mona said. “That means she has access to your patients.”

I pressed my fingers against my temples. “Yes.”

Mona yanked a tissue from the box on the desk and used it to pull open the middle desk drawer. “The keys—”

“I have them,” I said quickly. “I took them after I discovered the battery missing from my kitchen clock.”

“All of them?” she asked pointedly.

I knew which keys she was talking about. “I didn’t see the need, since they’re hidden.”

Mona immediately sat in the chair at her desk and began running her fingers along the underside of the middle desk drawer where the key to my private office had been affixed with duct tape. She looked at me. “It’s not there.”

“It has to be.”

Mona scrambled to her knees and stuck her head beneath the desk so she could get a better look. “It’s gone, Kate.”

I felt a sense of dread as I crossed the room and checked the door to my office. It was unlocked. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go in, even as I stepped inside and flipped on the light switch. My file drawers, which were locked in my absence, were now open, and dozens of files had been yanked out and strewn about the floor. I heard a gasp and turned. The look on Mona’s face mirrored my own feelings.

I pulled Officer Jenkins’s card from my purse and handed it to Mona. “Please call him for me.”

She took the card and nodded.

I quickly made my way around my desk, where a set of spare keys had been taped beneath the middle drawer—the keys to my filing cabinets. I was not surprised to find them missing as well.

Trying not to disturb anything in case the police insisted on taking photos, I knelt on the floor and, using an ink pen, I lifted files and glanced at the ones beneath. It was several minutes before I realized a number of them were missing; in particular, one belonging to a senator whose wife had insisted he get help for his sexual addiction. Thad had referred him to me because the man was a close family friend. I immediately went into panic mode. I called Thad’s cell and left a message, then spent ten minutes in the bathroom washing my hands.

When Officers Jenkins
and Waters arrived, a crime scene technician was right on their heels, taking photos and dusting for prints. If any of them thought it strange that Mona was dressed head to toe in black, they didn’t say.

Jenkins went first. “We’ve spoken to the person in charge of the temp agency,” he said. “We’re running Abigail Davis’s social security number as well as her driver’s license. Turns out she not only didn’t show up for work this morning, she didn’t bother to call her employer.”

“Also,” Waters said, “one of the employees at the sandwich shop said she got a look at Abigail’s cell phone and was pretty sure she was using a disposable one, because the employee had purchased one just like it for her son. Same shape and color,” he added. “So that’s a dead end.”

“That’s why we need to get a decent fingerprint,” Jenkins said. “We’ll run it through the system right away and, hopefully, get a hit.”

“If she is even in the system,” I said.

Jenkins looked at me. “I think she’s smarter than we’re giving her credit for. I think she’s done this sort of thing in the past.”

“I’m done here,” the crime scene tech said. He looked from me to Mona. “I’ll need to get both of your prints so we can rule them out.”

I was still badly shaken as the technician took my prints, using an ink pad and fingerprint card. It was over in five minutes, and Mona took her turn. He thanked us and left.

Jenkins and his partner hung around a few minutes longer, then left, promising to be in touch and reminding me to follow through with their earlier suggestions.

They hadn’t been gone fifteen minutes before Thad came through the door. He arched one brow at the sight of the oversized Jimbo sitting in the reception room reading a magazine.

“My chauffeur and bodyguard,” Mona said, pulling her black, elbow-length gloves in place.

Thad nodded and regarded Mona. “Who died?” he said, motioning to her outfit.

Mona sniffed. “You obviously never met my goldfish, Huey,” she said.

Thad looked amused. He turned to me, and the smile left his face. “I came as soon as I could. Did you find the missing file?”

“No.”

He slumped into one of the chairs in the waiting room. “We’re screwed,” he said. “No, we’re worse than screwed. We’re finished, kaput. Dead in the water.” He looked at Mona. “At least you’re dressed for the occasion.”

“Thad, I go to great lengths to protect my files,” I said.

“Yeah? Well, the crazy bitch got to them anyway.” He wiped his hands down his face. “This isn’t just about us, Kate,” he added.

“Do you really think you have to remind me?” I said. “There are other files missing as well, and they are just as important to me as the one you’re so concerned about.”

“Do you know how many she took?”

“I haven’t had time to take a close look. The police just left.”

“You didn’t say anything to them?”

“Jeez, guys,” Mona said. “What are you trying to cover up?”

“Don’t ask,” Thad said. He looked at me. “May we speak privately?”

I looked from Mona to Jimbo. “Would you please excuse us?” I said. Thad and I went into my office, and I closed the door.

He looked at the files scattered across the floor. “Did you check through these to see if—”

“The senator’s file is not here, Thad.”

“This is bad.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Do you know how to get in touch with this Abigail person?”

“The police warned me against having any contact with her.”

“Why the hell didn’t you get rid of the file?” he asked. “It has been three years.”

“I still see him from time to time, Thad,” I told him and was rewarded with a look of disbelief.

“I didn’t know.”

“Now you do.”

He sat down. “Well, it’s all going to come out now,” he said, “and my dad will never forgive me for not protecting his friend. The timing really sucks.”

“Listen, Thad. Abigail is from California. Who’s to say she would even recognize the name of a senator from Georgia?”

“I want the file back, Kate,” he said, “and I don’t much care how we go about getting it.”

 

 

Mona insisted that
Jimbo drive me home to meet the locksmith while she rescheduled my appointments and Thad picked up files and tried to bring about some kind of order to my office. Jimbo and I arrived at my house only minutes before a truck bearing the name Block’s Locks pulled up. A bald man, weighing about sixty pounds more than he should, emerged and met us at the door.

“Kate Holly?” he said.

“Yes.”

“Let me guess,” he said. “You kicked your old man out. That’s the bulk of my business these days. If it weren’t for the high divorce rate, I wouldn’t have a job.”

I didn’t bother to correct him. “Do you have other appointments scheduled for this afternoon?” I asked. “I’d like to have the locks changed at my office as well.”

“Holy cow, he must be on some personal vendetta to think of breaking into your office. Maybe you should get one of those protective orders or whatever they’re called.”

“I would appreciate it if you could fit me in sometime today,” I said.

He scratched his head. “Well, I was planning to get some lunch after this.”

“It’s really important,” I said.

“Where is your office?”

I told him, then added, “There’s a sandwich shop downstairs.”

He took a long time answering. “Well, I have this favorite place I go for lunch because they serve curlicue fries with their sandwiches.”

“I appreciate the sacrifice you’re making in order to help me,” I said. Still, he looked disappointed.

 

 

When the three
of us returned to my office more than an hour later, I found that Thad had managed to clear the floor of files, and Mona was returning them to the filing cabinet in alphabetical order. I was surprised to find them deep in conversation, since they had never gotten along well.

“Abigail called while you were out,” Thad said. “You may want to listen to the message.”

I asked Mr. Block to change the lock on the reception room door first so I could listen to Abigail’s message in my office. Thad, Mona, and Jimbo joined me. I pressed the button.

“You screwed up big-time, Kate,” Abigail said, “by getting the cops involved. I don’t know what lies you’re spreading about me, but I saw them waiting for me at the sandwich shop. You cost me another job. When you do bad things to people, it always comes back to you, so don’t be surprised if something really bad happens to you.” She hung up.

“That sounds like a threat to me,” Thad said.

I shook my head in disbelief. “She acts like
she’s
the one being victimized.”