Stalked In Conard County

“Yes?”

“They keep anyone from looking in, but they also keep me from looking out.”

He sipped his coffee and she could tell he was thinking. “I understand,” he said after a minute or so. “You’re going to be wondering if that Peeping Tom is creeping around the house out there tonight.”

Haley hated to admit it, but it was true, so she nodded. She couldn’t lie to herself and could see no reason to lie to him. “It’s stupid.”

“I don’t think so. You’re alone here and that would scare the bejesus out of just about anyone, having someone peer through their window in the middle of the night. I know I wouldn’t like it.”

She thought that was very generous of him. She somehow had the feeling that little would scare this man. Too big, too competent. She sipped more of the coffee he’d generously provided and wondered if she could change the subject to something that sounded more rational than she was feeling right then. Her next words told her she couldn’t.

“Something happened to me today,” she offered honestly. “And I don’t like it. Today this house became less welcoming and warm. Just now, as I was packing things, I realized that the charm I’d always felt here in Conard City was evaporating. That’s what I mean by stupid. One creep shouldn’t be able to change my feelings about this whole town. I used to love to play out in front, you remember?”

“I remember.”

“The streets, in my memory at least, are always warm and friendly. Not so much this afternoon. And the house is full of some of my best childhood memories. I love it. But now I no longer feel comfortable here. A huge part of me just wants to call someone in to empty out the house while I go back to Baltimore.”

He looked down at his lap, nodding slowly. “If that’s what you want to do, I can take care of the house. But I wish you wouldn’t, Haley.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d hate for you to leave here with a bad taste instead of those warm memories.”

He had a point. She didn’t think of herself as someone who ran from things, but maybe some vestiges of that five-year-old kidnapping victim remained in her. Some deep-seated fear she didn’t often have to face, if ever. At work, she was fearless. Among her friends at home, she was fearless.

Or so she had believed. She remembered how her mother had taken her to Michigan after the kidnapping, to get her away from reminders. Maybe she’d learned the wrong lesson from that: run.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Roger asked. “Or has inflation raised it to a buck?”

She had to laugh, disturbed as she felt. “I was just thinking. They teach you to do that in therapy, you know, and I had lots of therapy after I was kidnapped.”

“I should hope so.”

She half smiled. “I learned not to lie to myself, for one thing. Which doesn’t mean I never do. I’ve built quite a sense of my own strength and the belief in my ability to handle anything. Then I come here and discover I can’t handle a Peeping Tom because the child is still alive and well inside this adult, and she still remembers the stark terror of a man coming through her window and carrying her away. That child isn’t fearless.”

Something in Roger’s face gentled. He had a man’s face, marked by sun and wind, with a square jaw and crinkles around his green eyes, but right then it looked less like granite and more like something far softer. “I’d be shocked if that child weren’t still with you.”

“I thought she’d given up her grip.”

“She probably has, mostly. Then this. How could it not stir things up?”

She gave a wan, mirthless smile. “Resurrection?”

“Not completely. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten all the things you learned and practiced over the years. But a whisper? A ghostly reminder? Hell, yeah. Who wouldn’t be disturbed?”

She sipped more of the coffee, savoring its milky, bitter heat, and thought over what he’d said. She reached one conclusion swiftly, however. “I can’t give in to it.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

She raised her gaze to his. “Meaning?”

“How important is it to you to fight it? I mean, there’s no reason to face it down all over again, is there?”

That hardened her resolve. “Sure there is. That man soiled my memories of this house and this town. They were good memories, all of them. I don’t want to let him taint them.”

He tipped his head back to drink more coffee, then he gave her a heart-melting smile. “You’re tough, Haley. Know that?”

She blinked. “I don’t think so. I’ve been thinking about turning tail for hours now.”

“That makes you all the tougher. You’re refusing to give ground to your past. As for this creep…” He shrugged. “I don’t know the stats, but I imagine Peeping Toms don’t often do more than look. Want me to check that out online?”

She had to laugh. “Would you believe the first thing I really noticed when I got here was that Grandma didn’t have a computer and doesn’t have internet? I may start suffering withdrawal soon.”

“Your smartphone can pick up some of the slack if you want. We have good reception here in town.”

She shook her head a little. “I think it’ll do me good to break the habit.” Then her stomach rumbled, startling her. She glanced at the clock. “Has it really been that long since lunch?”

“We ate early,” he reminded her.

“Well, if you’re hungry, I’ll get out the leftovers.”

She even went as far as to bring out the crockery. Flora would never have considered serving anything in containers, not even leftovers. A nice touch. Also another journey down memory lane.

She skipped serving it in the dining room, however. Grandma considered the kitchen table to be for working on, not eating on, but Haley changed all that in just a few minutes. She’d never had a separate dining room in all her life except when she was here.

Inevitably, though, night drew close and Roger, nice as he’d been all day, had to get home. He had stuff in his own life to take care of.

He stayed long enough, however, to help her draw all the curtains once again and to check all the locks.

Then she was alone with the ticking Regulator, the otherwise silent house, and memories she wished would return to their mausoleums.

They were just memories now, she reminded herself. They’d lost the power to hurt her unless she let them.

The guy at the window was another matter, but he wouldn’t even be able to peek in tonight, if he bothered to return.

With that in mind, she determined she’d spend the night in Grandma’s room. It was where she wanted to be, and it even had a small television on the bureau, something that had surprised her. Maybe an addition when her grandmother had started to become ill.

Soon she was settled in, wrapped comfortably in blankets and surrounded by good memories. The best memories.

To hell with the creep.

Chapter 3 (#u44be10d1-ff6f-58c9-96ff-a9eca6bf2062)

The church ladies started to show up, casseroles in hand, Edgar noticed. Hell. Nearly a week had passed and Haley showed no sign of heading back to wherever she’d come from. Boxes had been picked up by charities and carted away, but still the woman remained.

He tried to tell himself he was getting wound up for no reason, but that didn’t help. He was seldom successful at calming his own anxieties, and this one was growing.

He told himself if he just stayed out of Haley’s way, she never had to see him, and there’d be no risk that she’d recognize him. He couldn’t make himself believe it, most especially if she decided to stay.