Chapter 29
To Do:
- Research ESA
- Upgrade pepper spray
- Escape room – combo locks
“ESA.Like Barney’s frat from the yearbook!” Claire waved her hands. Why were they not getting it?
The gang had piled into a booth at the back of the bar. The droning country music was quieter back here, but she still practically had to shout to be heard.
Nicole shook her head. “Are you sure? Those two don’t sound like guys who could meet a 3.8 GPA requirement. And just because they were in the same frat and are both douchebags doesn’t necessarily mean they’re in cahoots with Barney. He graduated like six years ago. They wouldn’t have even met.”
“Think about it,” Claire said, gesturing wildly. The absinthe was still coursing through her system despite the soft pretzel Sawyer had procured seemingly from nowhere. “Barney has to be working with someone on the outside. Or at the very least, whoever’s doing all this has an in-depth knowledge of his methods and they’re repeating them. Flowers, creepy notes, mail that’s not postmarked.”
“But you said they didn’t react when they saw you? They didn’t seem to recognize you?” Nicole shivered.
Claire shook her head. “I was mostly in the shadows. It’s just a feeling I got. Like I was face-to-face with evil. I think they’re the ones who are stalking me and leaving notes. You should have seen them with that poor girl. I don’t know what would have happened if we hadn’t shown up.”
“Lots of frat boys are aggressive douchebags,” Kyle chimed in.
Claire groaned. Why didn’t anybody believe her? Internal alarm bells were going off like crazy, and they were all telling her the same thing—ESA and Barney were connected. Sawyer put a hand on her shoulder, and her knees almost buckled. He handed her a fresh glass of water.
“I’m going to tell Jack.” Surely her FBI agent deadbeat father would be intrigued by this turn of events even if no one else was. She dialed his number.
“Claire? Everything okay?” Jack asked. He sounded startled to hear from her.
“Listen, Jack. Something happened tonight.” She launched into the story of finding Barney’s frat in the yearbook and running into the ESA brothers downtown.
When she finished the tale, several seconds of silence followed.
“As interesting as that is, it doesn’t mean they’re working with Barney. I doubt a bunch of nineteen-year-old fraternity brothers have the organization and time maintenance necessary to stalk and murder victims all across the country.”
Claire sighed. “Okay, I don’t know if they’re related to what’s going on across the country. But my gut is telling me there’s a connection. We can’t ignore this.”
Jack paused. “I’ll mention your theory to my superiors, but I don’t know that they’ll look into it. Thank you for bringing it to me.”
“Great. Talk to you later.” He wasn’t going to tell his superiors shit. Why did no one believe her?
“Claire, before you go. My wife wanted me to ask you again about coming over for dinner. We live in Scranton, you know. Not far.”
She paused for what felt like an eternity. Maybe she should run up to Scranton, rip his door off its hinges, and club him with it until he agreed to follow up on her lead. Spending more time with her absentee father was the last thing she wanted. And yet, she was curious. What had caused him to give up his life, give up being a father to her? Who was Trampy Tanya, and what did she have that Alice didn’t?
Finally, she shook her head. “If you insist on doing this family thing to appease your guilty conscience, we’ll do it on my turf.”
“You want to have dinner?” The surprise in his voice was clear.
“Friday night, seven o’clock, my apartment. Bring your wife and whatever other miscellaneous family members you have that I don’t know about.”
“Great,” Jack said, clearly surprised. “I’ll tell her.”
Claire hung up the phone. Maybe if she got Jack in front of her, she could make him believe her. In the meantime, she would do her own investigating. Who else was going to look out for women in West Haven? Apparently not the police.
She slapped at the phone in Mindy’s hand. “Who are you talking to? Everyone you care about is here.”
Mindy pursed her lips and turned the phone toward Claire. A news headline in bold red letters came across the screen. Drunken Widowmaker Survivor Assaults Innocent Bystander.
“Oh no.” Claire grabbed the phone. The article had only been posted twenty minutes ago and already had two hundred shares. This was bad.
She skimmed the article. It mentioned everything—the name of her business, the lawsuit with Wendy, Rachel’s accusations about Claire being an alcoholic. A video of her whipping the trash can lid and vomiting on the ground accompanied the article. The girl in the yellow dress had been conveniently cropped out of the clip. Claire glanced at the comments and quickly gave the phone back to Mindy.
“They’re smearing me for stopping an abduction attempt.” She laughed, but the end of the laugh broke into a sob. What patriarchal bullshit was this? She looked down at her hands like they had acted of their own accord. Two shots and half a beer and she had lost control to the point of assaulting someone on live television. It wouldn’t matter if she came forward with the truth. The story was already spun.
She pulled her phone out with shaking hands and Googled the name of her business. Happily Ever Afters was a company formed around the idea of true love. Now the first ten search results were either about Barney or Drunk Claire assaulting a “bystander.”
“What have I done?” she whispered.
How had the press even known where to find her? Maybe someone in the bar had tipped them off. She scanned the crowd, but no one seemed to be paying attention to her. Maybe it had been the ESA brothers? But then why did they not react when she confronted them in the alleyway?
“You did nothing,” Mindy said, grabbing her by both shoulders and startling Claire from her thoughts. She looked remarkably composed for someone who had drunk absinthe. “It’s this asshole from Channel Eight News who spun the story to make it look like you went on a drunken rampage when actually all you did was save some girl from being assaulted. I notice they didn’t mention anything about her in the article. As soon as I can see straight again, I’m going to find out where he lives and burn his house down.”
“Lower your voice,” Claire hissed, casting a glance around the bar. Someone in here must have ratted her out to the press.
Claire’s phone vibrated in her hand. She glanced down at it and gasped. It was Alex, their newest client. They had just begun brainstorming his soccer-themed proposal.
“Hi, Alex. How are you?” She probably shouldn’t have picked up the phone in a country bar with a fuzzy head. But when the clients needed her, nothing else was more important.
“Hey, Claire. Uh, I’ve been thinking. I don’t think I need your services after all.”
The bottom dropped out of her stomach. His girlfriend, Molly, was a pilot in the Air Force. “Oh, no! Did something happen? Is Molly okay?”
“Yeah, no, she’s fine. I’m still going to ask her to marry me. I just don’t think I need your help anymore.”
Shock hit her like an icy fist. Her breath caught in her chest. Alex absolutely did need a planner. The coordination alone was too much for one person to handle, let alone the other elements they had discussed. He did need help. He just didn’t want her help.
“Oh. Did you see the article? Because I assure you that’s not what actually happened,” she said hurriedly.
“Can you just send me the bill for what you’ve worked on so far, and we’ll call it even? Thanks, Claire.” He hung up.
She stared at the phone in her hand like it had transformed into a live snake.
“What’s wrong?” Nicole laid a hand on Claire’s arm.
“He fucking fired us,” Claire said over the honky-tonk song currently playing. Her cheeks were hot. How had a simple night out with friends turned into something that threatened to destroy the business she’d sacrificed everything for? And why did saving a girl from assault warrant having her name dragged through the mud? It wasn’t fair.
“He did what?” Mindy shouted. She whipped her coat out from behind her like she was trying to lure a bull. Several patrons turned around to stare.
“Alex fired us. He wouldn’t say, but I think it was because of the article.” Her hands clenched at her sides.
“I have his address. Let’s go.”
“Stop,” Claire said, glaring at her. “First of all, driving buzzed—absolutely not. Second of all, driving a car through the home of a client who fired us isn’t exactly going to help my image in the media.”
Mindy scowled. She pulled her tablet out of her purse and crashed it onto the bar. “I’m going to send his mother those pictures I found during our surveillance phase. Bad news, Mrs. Palmer. Little Alex used to hide weed in the angel on top of the Christmas tree.”
“Babe.” Gavin yanked her tablet away. “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
“You want to talk about regret? Alex is going to be full of it. If he tries running to Wendy to plan this, she’ll ruin everything.”
“Maybe Wendy’s sleeping with the newscaster too,” Claire muttered and chugged the rest of her water. This night was over. “I need to go home. I’m calling a car.”
Mindy and Nicole put their coats on and stood next to each other at the bar. They each held out one hand and made a fist with the other.
“What are you guys doing?” Claire asked.
“Just checking to see who’s staying with you tonight,” Mindy said, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.”
Claire cringed. She had accidentally trashed her reputation. Her best friends didn’t even want to spend time with her. They had to resort to children’s games to decide who had to stay.
“I’ll make it easy for you,” she said. “Neither of you are staying. I’m a grown woman. I’m going to be fine.”
“Aha! I win. Claire, I’m staying with you tonight,” Nicole said, sucking down the last of her glass of water. “And I don’t want to hear any arguments. You just stopped an abduction attempt. And if they were your stalkers, and they did recognize you—since that reporter so thoughtfully called you out by name as they were running away—they’re going to be pissed, and they might come for you. And frankly, I would love to punch someone in the face tonight.” She swung her purse over her arm.
Claire bristled. Company was the last thing she wanted tonight. “I can handle it. I have a fancy security system and an attack corgi.”
“I’m happy to stay with you, Claire,” Sawyer interjected. “Give your friends a break for the night. I’m probably the most qualified person here to provide private security.”
“See? Sawyer will do it,” she said. And he would be much easier to manipulate into leaving her alone. “Ready to go? I’ll call a car.”
“Sure.” He stood. “I can drive, though. One shot in an hour is literally nothing when you weigh two hundred and fifty pounds.”
“Great. Let’s go.”
“See you at the office tomorrow?” Mindy called after her, one eyebrow raised.
“Yes. Let’s have the escape room brainstorm session at ten instead,” Claire said, pressing a hand to her throbbing temple. “Maybe eleven. If they haven’t decided to fire us too. We’re going to need to run through the puzzles and time everything out to see if we need to add anything. I’ll text you.”
Sawyer and Claire walked to his car in silence. He pulled out onto the street and headed toward her apartment, dark shapes and neon streaks flashing as they drove. Claire rested her forehead against the cool glass and closed her eyes. The nausea was finally starting to subside.
How could Alex have fired her? Happily Ever Afters was the best in the business. One humiliating news clip and she was losing clients? She couldn’t afford to lose clients with Wendy breathing down her neck. This wasn’t like her. She never should have taken that second shot. She needed to get her head back on straight. No more booze.
The car ran over a small bump in the road, and she jolted upright, heart pounding.
“Just a bump,” Sawyer said, giving her leg a reassuring pat. “Potholes, you know.”
Claire clutched a hand to her thumping heart.
“Are you okay?” he asked after a beat. “After everything that happened tonight, I mean.”
“With the creepy douches? Yeah, I’m fine. I just hate that people like them are out there, targeting women with zero consequences. Who knows what would have happened to that girl if we weren’t around to intervene.”
“I think you’re right about them. They had a sinister vibe. It would make sense for Barney’s old fraternity to have his back. But I guess the only way to know for sure is to talk to him. We’ll just have to wait and see what Barney gives you and go from there. The police can’t ignore something that comes straight from his mouth,” he muttered as he parked outside her apartment building.
“You don’t need to stay.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I’m going to be fine. I’ll deploy my anti-sleepwalking device and be good as new.”
“Yeah, we’re not doing that,” he said, getting out of his car and shutting the door. “Nice try, though.”
Damn it. He pulled a bag from his trunk and came around to the passenger side. He opened Claire’s door and helped her out.
“Thanks. Wait, do you need to let Doozer out?” Maybe there was still hope for a night alone.
“He’s at my mom’s. She loves to babysit him.”
Drat. Claire checked both ways before crossing the street. Even with Sawyer lumbering along behind her, the hair on her arm stood up. She paused in front of her apartment and looked up and down Beaumont Street. The only pedestrians were an old woman on a Jazzy scooter toting a bulging bag of cat food and a handful of teenagers in hoodies on a street corner. No one appeared to be looking at her, and yet she couldn’t shake the sensation of being watched.
The Venor douches had left her ill at ease. Had they gone after another girl? Were they her stalkers? Even if they hadn’t heard the reporter call her out by name, they had probably seen the article by now. Were they waiting in the shadows? Maybe having an overnight companion wasn’t the worst thing.
“I feel it too.” Sawyer put a hand on the small of her back. “Let’s get upstairs. You’re safe with me.”
They trudged up the stairs to the fourth floor, casting backward glances the whole way. She slid her key into the lock and opened the door to a sleeping corgi sprawled on the floor.
Sawyer dropped to his knees next to Rosie and rubbed her belly. Rosie opened one eye and stared blearily at him, offering a brief arf before climbing to her feet and wandering over to Claire.
Claire gathered the dog into her chest. Thank god nothing had happened to her. Her downstairs neighbor Kara had watched Rosie while Claire was gone for drinks, but there was still a ten-minute window between Kara returning Rosie to the apartment and Claire arriving home. She wouldn’t risk that again in the future.
Sawyer removed his shoes at her entrance and laid them neatly by the door. “Mind if I use your restroom? I’m a little sweaty from the line dancing.”
“Of course,” Claire said, waving a hand toward the farthest room. “Oh, if you want to brush your teeth, I have new toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet next to the toothpaste. You’re welcome to take a shower, though I don’t think I have any manly soap. There are clean towels in the linen closet. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to bring anything from your house.”
“I have some essentials in my stakeout bag.” He smiled and disappeared into the bathroom. He looked comically large going down her hallway, head level with the row of Planner of the Year awards. She frowned. That empty spot was going to haunt her forever.
When he disappeared, she took Rosie out for a quick pee. She spent the entire time probing every dark corner around her apartment building, but no tank top-wearing douche lumbered out of the shadows to kidnap her. Back upstairs, she took all the throw pillows she had and fluffed them on the couch. She added a pile of blankets and set a glass of water on the coffee table.
The refrigerator door creaked when she swung it open. An expired bottle of coffee creamer and an empty water pitcher stared back at her. Time to start a grocery list. She grabbed a pen from her purse and pulled a notebook toward her.
Why was this pen so heavy? She rolled it in her hand. It was the expensive silver pen she found in the woods while sleepwalking. Initials were engraved on the back end. She squinted at them. Her eyes flew open wide, and she screamed and chucked the pen across the apartment like it was crawling with ants.
There was a crashing sound from the bathroom, and Sawyer slid into the kitchen, completely naked and covered in suds. There was some kind of scar on his abdomen, a set of three gashes that were six inches long. Had he pissed off a demon?
The scar was less distracting than his mammoth-sized?—
“What is it?” he asked, pivoting. He pulled a knife from the block on the counter. “An intruder? A note?”
She was so shocked by the sight of his naked body that she almost forgot to respond. “No, sorry, everything is fine. It’s just a pen.”
“A pen?” The knife clattered onto the countertop. Sawyer covered his junk and moonwalked backward out of the room and into the hallway. “Why did a pen make you scream?”
“The initials on it. ESA. Actually, Epsilon Sigma Alpha.” Her whole body tingled from head to toe. She had surely just uncovered a clue. She could feel it. “I didn’t notice the letters were Greek when I first found it in the woods outside Luke’s house.”
Sawyer swore. “So, unless the Toilet King was an extremely careless frat boy, someone from Barney’s fraternity was in the woods outside Luke’s house.”
“Exactly. I was right. I’m being targeted…by a bunch of frat boys.”