adjectives to modify them.
I moved to my walk-in closet. Snippets of Jon’s conversation with the Police drifted in from the living room as I continued my inspection. Doug had taken the vacuum cleaner bag out and ripped it open, strewing dust and debris all over my clothes. The expensive Brooks Brothers suit I had worn hours earlier lay in a mutilated heap on the floor, a carving knife nearby. I picked up what used to be the skirt, and my hand touched something wet and sticky. I turned the garment over and noticed a whitish substance smeared on the back. Semen? I ran back into the bathroom where I washed my hands once, twice, and a third time before I threw up in the sink.
He’d done a lot in the hour plus I’d been at Jon’s. What scared me most was not only did he know where I lived, but he knew when to break in. To do so much so quickly, he had to have been watching me.
For how long?
Was he still watching, and was he planning a return visit?
15
I had no doubt Doug vandalized my apartment. None whatsoever.
The police took my statement, dusted for prints, and snapped a few photos. They also took the DNA sample the intruder left behind before they wrapped up their visit with a disheartening “we’ll do what we can, but …”
With no signs of forced entry, the intruder either had a key, or I’d left the door unlocked. Doug could have lifted my house key from my purse and run a quick errand to make a copy. No one would have noticed his absence for all the coming and going everyone did in the audit room.
The grandstanding had to be his way of scaring me into reconsidering the harassment complaint I’d filed against him. His tactics backfired because I was even more resolute in my decision.
I was no longer afraid, but out for revenge.
I refused to spend the night at Jon’s apartment despite his pleas. I also refused to let him sleep on my couch as my sentry. He called me stubborn and foolish, but a life lived in fear wasn’t worth a damn, and I was too young to live in a velvet cage.
The night passed without any further drama other than I got next to no sleep and nicked my hand on the butcher’s knife I slipped between the mattresses.
• • •
By mutual agreement, neither Jon nor I said anything about the event of the previous evening. Consequently, only Jon knew why I was foul-tempered. I even snapped at him a few times, though I immediately apologized. My mood wasn’t helped any by Doug’s smirks. He didn’t say anything to incriminate himself, but every look, every criticism, and every word he uttered reeked of “I’ve got you where I want you, and you can’t do a damned thing to stop me.”
His presence also triggered unwelcome visions of him jacking off in my closet, touching my underwear and fondling my toys. Every time those thoughts invaded my head, my skin crawled as if covered in a layer of filth. I tucked my new house key into a skirt pocket that buttoned and patted it every so often to reassure myself.
“Gayle, the files will be in the office by nine tonight, ready for you to prepare the referencer’s aid.” Doug arranged his features into guileless consideration. “Don’t come in any earlier unless you feel like wasting your time or keeping me company.”
“Same thing,” I sniped. “Nine? Why so late?”
“Because I have to work late on the files, and that’s how long it’s gonna take. Like I said, it’s better to have all the files at your fingertips before you start. The process’ll go faster if you wait ’til I’m finished before you start.”
“Nine it is then.” I sighed.
Scarlett shook the head she bowed over her work and tsk’d.
For lunch, Doug and Tony decided a visit to Hooters would be a “titillating” way to spend their last lunch at Aphrodite. Jon agreed to go with them. I didn’t say anything; he already knew my position on that particular eatery.
He did pull me aside, however, and tell me he was only going to ferret out Doug’s alibi for
I moved to my walk-in closet. Snippets of Jon’s conversation with the Police drifted in from the living room as I continued my inspection. Doug had taken the vacuum cleaner bag out and ripped it open, strewing dust and debris all over my clothes. The expensive Brooks Brothers suit I had worn hours earlier lay in a mutilated heap on the floor, a carving knife nearby. I picked up what used to be the skirt, and my hand touched something wet and sticky. I turned the garment over and noticed a whitish substance smeared on the back. Semen? I ran back into the bathroom where I washed my hands once, twice, and a third time before I threw up in the sink.
He’d done a lot in the hour plus I’d been at Jon’s. What scared me most was not only did he know where I lived, but he knew when to break in. To do so much so quickly, he had to have been watching me.
For how long?
Was he still watching, and was he planning a return visit?
15
I had no doubt Doug vandalized my apartment. None whatsoever.
The police took my statement, dusted for prints, and snapped a few photos. They also took the DNA sample the intruder left behind before they wrapped up their visit with a disheartening “we’ll do what we can, but …”
With no signs of forced entry, the intruder either had a key, or I’d left the door unlocked. Doug could have lifted my house key from my purse and run a quick errand to make a copy. No one would have noticed his absence for all the coming and going everyone did in the audit room.
The grandstanding had to be his way of scaring me into reconsidering the harassment complaint I’d filed against him. His tactics backfired because I was even more resolute in my decision.
I was no longer afraid, but out for revenge.
I refused to spend the night at Jon’s apartment despite his pleas. I also refused to let him sleep on my couch as my sentry. He called me stubborn and foolish, but a life lived in fear wasn’t worth a damn, and I was too young to live in a velvet cage.
The night passed without any further drama other than I got next to no sleep and nicked my hand on the butcher’s knife I slipped between the mattresses.
• • •
By mutual agreement, neither Jon nor I said anything about the event of the previous evening. Consequently, only Jon knew why I was foul-tempered. I even snapped at him a few times, though I immediately apologized. My mood wasn’t helped any by Doug’s smirks. He didn’t say anything to incriminate himself, but every look, every criticism, and every word he uttered reeked of “I’ve got you where I want you, and you can’t do a damned thing to stop me.”
His presence also triggered unwelcome visions of him jacking off in my closet, touching my underwear and fondling my toys. Every time those thoughts invaded my head, my skin crawled as if covered in a layer of filth. I tucked my new house key into a skirt pocket that buttoned and patted it every so often to reassure myself.
“Gayle, the files will be in the office by nine tonight, ready for you to prepare the referencer’s aid.” Doug arranged his features into guileless consideration. “Don’t come in any earlier unless you feel like wasting your time or keeping me company.”
“Same thing,” I sniped. “Nine? Why so late?”
“Because I have to work late on the files, and that’s how long it’s gonna take. Like I said, it’s better to have all the files at your fingertips before you start. The process’ll go faster if you wait ’til I’m finished before you start.”
“Nine it is then.” I sighed.
Scarlett shook the head she bowed over her work and tsk’d.
For lunch, Doug and Tony decided a visit to Hooters would be a “titillating” way to spend their last lunch at Aphrodite. Jon agreed to go with them. I didn’t say anything; he already knew my position on that particular eatery.
He did pull me aside, however, and tell me he was only going to ferret out Doug’s alibi for
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