somewhere else.
Oh, well.
So Sandee left. She was beat. It had been a long night. Her legs ached. Her head throbbed. She wanted to get home and go to sleep.
Nestled in bed by about 4:00 A.M ., Sandee fell asleep quickly. Two hours later, she was awoken by the sound of her cell phone buzzing on the nightstand.
She opened her eyes. Rolled over.
I’m not getting that….
Whoever it was could wait.
The next morning, as she poured herself a cup of coffee, Sandee checked her messages.
“I had three very explicit, threatening voice mails,” Sandee said later.
All from Tracey Humphrey.
The man had snapped. He was upset because, he claimed, Sandee had “left him” hanging at the bar without a ride home—at least that’s how he started off the threatening messages. By the end, though, Humphrey had laid his cards on the table, screaming at Sandee because she wasn’t interested in dating him “in that way.”
“I am going to kill you!” Humphrey said in one message. “You will probably need to start dating a plastic surgeon, because by the time I am finished with your face, you’re going to need one!”
Sandee was blown away by this outburst—and who wouldn’t be? What she had feared, or perhaps sensed in this guy, had come to fruition. Here he was showing his true colors. The dude was a maniac. And if Sandee knew one thing, it was that when a guy like Humphrey showed you who he was, you had better store that information in the back of your mind and believe him at face value. The real Tracey Humphrey had exposed himself. He was a damn monster.
Sandee Rozzo was now terrified of what would happen the next time she saw Humphrey.
19
Sandee was quite shaken up by those bullying messages, which seemed to expose a dark side of Humphrey that she had felt was there from the beginning. The guy had lost his mind. Snapped. Allowed his deep-seated, inner anger to come out. Now Sandee was thinking that she had made the right decision in not seeing him romantically. It wasn’t easy for her. Over the past ten years, it had seemed that she had always chosen the wrong guys. Here she was making a change—realizing that Humphrey was definitely the wrong man for her—and it was coming back to hurt her, anyway.
Double-edged sword.
In one way Sandee was disappointed. Things had been moving along fine between them as friends. Humphrey was slowly accepting that they were work buddies, helping each other out with rides, maybe a bite to eat once in a while, or a workout together. Beyond that, he was a great sounding board. For over a month, Humphrey had spoken and treated Sandee kindly, with warmth and friendship. Now this? What the hell was with the guy?
Sandee called a friend and talked to her about what had happened. Another friend came over that day and recorded the messages from Sandee’s voice mail, advising her to call the police immediately. Don’t wait. He was out of his mind. Did she really know him? Where was he from? What about his past? Those were direct threats to her life. Did she really want to see what he was capable of?
Some time passed. Sandee and Humphrey barely saw each other, even at work. He generally worked downstairs at the club, she worked upstairs, so it was easy to avoid each other if they worked at it. Sandee cut her losses and decided against calling the police. That might enrage him even more, she felt. According to Sandee’s credo, people were allowed a mistake. Perhaps someone had stressed him out at work? Whatever the reason, she was willing to forgive and forget. Move on.
By January 14, 2002, Sandee was ready to take off on a needed vacation to Las Vegas. Humphrey had heard she was going to be gone for a week. During work one night, he went upstairs to the bar. He said he wanted to talk. He seemed apologetic.
“Hey, I want to…I don’t know…I snapped. Could I come over tonight, say good-bye? I have something for your birthday.”
Sandee thought about it.
Maybe this is his way of
Oh, well.
So Sandee left. She was beat. It had been a long night. Her legs ached. Her head throbbed. She wanted to get home and go to sleep.
Nestled in bed by about 4:00 A.M ., Sandee fell asleep quickly. Two hours later, she was awoken by the sound of her cell phone buzzing on the nightstand.
She opened her eyes. Rolled over.
I’m not getting that….
Whoever it was could wait.
The next morning, as she poured herself a cup of coffee, Sandee checked her messages.
“I had three very explicit, threatening voice mails,” Sandee said later.
All from Tracey Humphrey.
The man had snapped. He was upset because, he claimed, Sandee had “left him” hanging at the bar without a ride home—at least that’s how he started off the threatening messages. By the end, though, Humphrey had laid his cards on the table, screaming at Sandee because she wasn’t interested in dating him “in that way.”
“I am going to kill you!” Humphrey said in one message. “You will probably need to start dating a plastic surgeon, because by the time I am finished with your face, you’re going to need one!”
Sandee was blown away by this outburst—and who wouldn’t be? What she had feared, or perhaps sensed in this guy, had come to fruition. Here he was showing his true colors. The dude was a maniac. And if Sandee knew one thing, it was that when a guy like Humphrey showed you who he was, you had better store that information in the back of your mind and believe him at face value. The real Tracey Humphrey had exposed himself. He was a damn monster.
Sandee Rozzo was now terrified of what would happen the next time she saw Humphrey.
19
Sandee was quite shaken up by those bullying messages, which seemed to expose a dark side of Humphrey that she had felt was there from the beginning. The guy had lost his mind. Snapped. Allowed his deep-seated, inner anger to come out. Now Sandee was thinking that she had made the right decision in not seeing him romantically. It wasn’t easy for her. Over the past ten years, it had seemed that she had always chosen the wrong guys. Here she was making a change—realizing that Humphrey was definitely the wrong man for her—and it was coming back to hurt her, anyway.
Double-edged sword.
In one way Sandee was disappointed. Things had been moving along fine between them as friends. Humphrey was slowly accepting that they were work buddies, helping each other out with rides, maybe a bite to eat once in a while, or a workout together. Beyond that, he was a great sounding board. For over a month, Humphrey had spoken and treated Sandee kindly, with warmth and friendship. Now this? What the hell was with the guy?
Sandee called a friend and talked to her about what had happened. Another friend came over that day and recorded the messages from Sandee’s voice mail, advising her to call the police immediately. Don’t wait. He was out of his mind. Did she really know him? Where was he from? What about his past? Those were direct threats to her life. Did she really want to see what he was capable of?
Some time passed. Sandee and Humphrey barely saw each other, even at work. He generally worked downstairs at the club, she worked upstairs, so it was easy to avoid each other if they worked at it. Sandee cut her losses and decided against calling the police. That might enrage him even more, she felt. According to Sandee’s credo, people were allowed a mistake. Perhaps someone had stressed him out at work? Whatever the reason, she was willing to forgive and forget. Move on.
By January 14, 2002, Sandee was ready to take off on a needed vacation to Las Vegas. Humphrey had heard she was going to be gone for a week. During work one night, he went upstairs to the bar. He said he wanted to talk. He seemed apologetic.
“Hey, I want to…I don’t know…I snapped. Could I come over tonight, say good-bye? I have something for your birthday.”
Sandee thought about it.
Maybe this is his way of
Similar Books
