5. Willa
CHAPTER 5
WILLA
L ionel’s furious. Face red, he paces back and forth, asking me to repeatedly describe everything from the clasp on the envelope to the photos inside. There was nothing special about the generic envelope, but he makes me find an image of one online and send it to him. He frowns when he hears the images were from some type of instant camera.
“Were the images clear?” He abruptly asks.
I sift through the images in my mind. “Most of them. A couple were sort of… grainy? The one at the clinic and me driving my car. Why?”
“Every detail is important,” he says, his tone calm but commanding. “Clear pictures means they’ve been close to you. Instant cameras don’t take the best pictures from a distance. I’d like to narrow down the camera. Can you find an example of the images online?”
Bringing up my browser, we start looking at various models until we can pin it down to two possibilities. Both have a maximum range of five to seven feet for a clear photo.
The lines around his mouth tighten as I tell him. “I know you’re not dating. Have you spoken to anyone new in the last couple of weeks?”
“I picked up a new tutoring client,” I reply. “The football player. We barely know each other and have had very little interaction outside of the library.” I cross my arms tightly across my chest. “He walked me to my car earlier tonight because I looked scared.”
Lionel pauses. “The same one who ran over you the other day?”
I groan. “Yes, but you can’t think he’s got anything to do with this. The guy doesn’t have to stalk anyone. He’s popular and good-looking; girls chase him.”
“So?” Lionel remarks, lifting one eyebrow. “Someone starts stalking you shortly after you meet?” He snorts. “I don’t like it. He remains at the top of the list.” He reaches into a cabinet in the dining hutch and pulls out a small tackle box. “I’m going to dust your car for fingerprints.”
Flabbergasted, I stare after him. “Do you even know how? And where did you get the supplies?”
Bewildered, I follow him to my car, but he doesn’t answer. Too focused on the task at hand to pay attention to me, he methodically dusts around the windshield, the passenger doors, and driver’s side. It takes forever, but I don’t interrupt him. Instead, I impatiently shuffle back and forth until he’s done.
He closes the tackle box and waves the samples at me. “I’m going to have a friend run these prints. You never know.”
Once back inside, he slides the box back into the cabinet and turns toward me. “I’m going to set up surveillance around your apartment. For now, follow your normal routine. Anything out of the ordinary could spook your stalker, and I want to catch this bastard. Don’t worry. I’ll be close by in case you need anything.”
I throw up my hands. “Shouldn’t we go to the police?”
He thinks about it for a brief second, then shakes his head. “With the pictures gone, there’s no evidence. Nobody has threatened you, and you don’t even have a face or name to offer them. At best, they’ll create a report, but they’re more likely to dismiss you as a paranoid girl.”
Frustrated, I realize he’s right. Why didn’t I put those pictures in my backpack?
Lionel comes over and pulls me into his arms. “I’ve got you, kiddo. I promised your father a long time ago that I would take care of you, and that was before you became mine. I’m not about to let some idiot take you from me.”
With a shudder, I throw my arms tightly around him and breathe in the familiar smell of his aftershave. “Thank you. You’re the best.” Drawing back, I look into his dark green eyes, sparking with fierce determination. “Can I sleep here tonight?”
“I’d feel better if you did,” he replies with a look of relief on his face. “I’ll get your apartment wired with cameras and motion sensors tomorrow. I want to know when anyone steps foot near it.”
Relieved, I ask him to go with me to get a few things from my apartment. When we enter, it’s silent. Nothing’s been touched, but I can’t help but shiver at the thought.
* * *
The next day, I follow my usual routine. Class, then the library. As I’m sitting there checking in books, I can feel someone watching me. I look up and scan the room. Trent’s sitting a few tables away, watching me. For a brief second, I can’t help but wonder if he’s the one following me. As I return his stare, Kelcey slides into the chair beside him, capturing his attention.
Feeling stupid, I look away and continue stamping the pile in front of me with the return date. Lost to my thoughts, a polite cough startles me, and I jerk my head up to find Kelcey standing there.
She hands me a piece of paper. “Can you help me find Morgenstern’s textbook on visual nursing?”
“Sure,” I reply, taking the paper from her. When I open it, the book’s title isn’t on the sheet. Instead, it’s a note. They’re watching you. My gut twists when I read the words. ‘They’ implies more than one. Who’s they? I open my mouth to ask her who she’s talking about, but she interrupts me.
“That’s okay,” she says loudly. “I’ll grab a copy from the bookstore. Thanks for your help.”
Pivoting on her heel, she walks over to where Trent is waiting for her to join him. She links her arm in his and tugs him toward the door. He glances from her to me, then leans down and says something to her. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
Surely, she didn’t mean Trent and his buddies. We barely know each other. Still, I can’t dismiss it. Is this some sort of stupid hazing or bullying? I haven’t told him or anyone else about the pictures. So, how does Kelcey know they’re watching?
I fold the paper and put it in my backpack. Once my replacements come in, I move to the table where I usually tutor and wait for the first student to arrive. About mid-way through our session, I get a text from Maggie canceling her appointment. After quickly rescheduling for later this week, I finish up with the current session and make my notes.
Thankful for an early night, I grab my things and make my way outside. The moment my foot hits the stairs, my eyes are drawn to the bush. There’s no rustling, and the night is silent. I don’t feel like someone is watching, but fear makes me run to my car. Nobody follows me.
My relief fades the minute I sit in the driver’s seat and see the photograph tucked into the instrument panel. It’s an image of me taking a picture of the ground behind the bush. Unlike the others, this one has a circle in red ink, and dread fills me.
I was here.
There’s an arrow at the bottom of the image. I flip it over and see a second picture almost identical to the first, but this one is grainier. The view is shifted slightly to the left. Someone is standing at the corner of the library, phone raised and pointed toward me.
But I’m not the only one.
My head jerks up. I immediately lock my door and scan the area around the car. Fear and rage bubble up inside me. Unable to see anyone, I can’t help but hold up my middle finger. Flashing it from one side to the other, I scream Fuck You! even knowing my stalker can’t hear me.
I drop my gaze back down to the image in my hand. There’s something odd about it. I grab my phone and shine a light on the image. It takes me a minute to realize what it is. The nails. They look long. Too long. I blink several times and move the phone closer, then back. The tips are definitely pink and white. The image is too grainy to tell much, but those are nails. It’s a girl.
My mind nearly explodes with the information. The shoe print in the bush was definitely big, telling me my stalker was a guy, but this has to be a girl. Kelcey was right. They’re watching. But who? Some of her friends? Is this some kind of stupid hazing thing? Find an unsuspecting student and terrorize them?
All I want is to finish school and get a real job. Help others. Is that too much to ask? There’s so little in this world for me to hold on to. Lionel and my dream of helping others. That’s it. If my stalkers think they can take those from me, they can fuck off. I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep my little world intact. I lost everything once, but I’ll be damn if I let it happen again.
Furious, I ignore my trembling hands and start the car, then floor it out of the parking lot. When I get home, Lionel’s putting the finishing touches on the new security system. Jaw locked; I hand him the photograph and the paper Kelcey handed to me.
“It appears there are more than one.” I sigh. “They’re most likely students.” I explain Kelcey’s involvement and point out the second image. “Those look like nails to me.”