DAKOTA WAS EXPERIENCING an existence of calm and peace that he’d never really had before, at least not for days and weeks on end. Nothing about the Army had been peaceful, even though there was much about it he had loved. Even his most blissful days with Hasnaa were overshadowed by the challenges of their cultural differences; they had not come even close to figuring out how they were going to manage to be together long-term. She would never give up her work and he wasn’t sure what he’d do without the Army.
But as August arrived, life had never seemed more settled. Sedona was back home in Connecticut, in the hands of a good doctor, sleeping at night. “Sometimes during the day, as well,” she said with a touch of laughter in her voice. “And counseling up the nose—Bob and me, individual, group. I’m so overloaded with counseling I couldn’t even begin to tell you if it’s working.”
But she felt all right. There was no panic in her voice.
Sierra was looking forward to the court appearance at the end of the month that would settle their adoption of Sam. Elizabeth was pulling herself up on the furniture and had four teeth in the front of her mouth. They looked huge when she smiled. Sully had come to think of Sierra as another daughter. It wasn’t so long ago, when Maggie was single, that he’d thought he’d never experience the joy of grandparenthood. Now here he was with a little one on each knee.
The happiness Dakota found when he was able to spend time with Sid soothed his soul. When he made love to her, it rocked his world.
He picked Sid up at her house early on Saturday evening. They went together to the soup kitchen, something he particularly looked forward to. The other volunteers had become friends, even though there was no socializing outside of their volunteer night. And he’d grown a fierce admiration for Sister Mary Jacob, who put so much energy into caring for others.
“Why couldn’t you be my mother, Mary Jacob?”
“The pope forbade it,” she slung back easily.
Dakota and Sid were sharing a laugh over Sierra’s recent shock and Connie’s puffed-up excitement as they walked into the food hall. Before they even got to their aprons, they spotted a familiar face. Neely. Smiling beautifully. Positioned behind the pan of potatoes with a spoon in her hand.
“Oh. My. God,” Sid said.
“That’s it,” Dakota said. “That’s no accident!”
“It can’t be. I’ll talk to Sister,” Sid said, heading for the kitchen.
Dakota just stood there inside the door for a moment and then he followed Sid. By the time he found them having a private talk in the corner, he picked up the words stalking and vandalism.
“You think this woman is bad news, Dakota?” Sister Mary Jacob asked.
“Definitely. She accused me of assaulting her when nothing could be a bigger lie. According to people who have known her, she lies quite a bit. If her lips are moving, you should suspect something. I’m afraid we’re not going to stay. Sid has Friday, Saturday and Sunday off—put us on another night.”
“The Saturday night crowd are your friends. I’ll move her. We’ll get by without you tonight. We have enough people to serve and clean up. I’ll see you both next weekend.”
“I don’t know if she’s crazy or just determined and obsessed. You better be careful,” Dakota warned.
“Don’t worry about me,” Mary Jacob said. “I have friends in high places.”
“That almost makes me want to stay, hearing you say that. You can’t just rely on prayer.”
“You naive boy,” she said. “I know karate. And I know the police chief. She’s not going to give me any trouble. I’m a nun, for God’s sake.”
Not that anyone would know it by looking at her.
“If anything goes strange with her, call us,” Dakota said.
“Absolutely. We’ll see what happens when I schedule her on another night. You two, go on. I’ll tell the others you had something come up. Suddenly.”
“I might not be available next week,” Sid said. “I have a few things to do out of town.”
Dakota shot her a look. She’d been saying she hoped to spend a few days at her old job, helping out her former boss with something, but they hadn’t talked specific dates. He was secretly hoping it just wouldn’t happen.
“Don’t worry about it, we’ll get by. Go now. Before we draw a crowd.”
Dakota said hello to a couple of people in the kitchen, shook a couple of hands, made some excuses and promised to see them later. “Let’s go,” he said, taking Sid’s elbow to steer her out. He made it a point not to look back at Neely. He wondered how the hell she found out about the soup kitchen.
He drove away. “Let’s get closer to home and get a drink. How about that?”
“I’ll have a glass of wine,” she said. “Maybe two, since you’re driving. Jesus, that’s so disturbing.”
“I just don’t get it,” he said.
“Me, either. Look, I think you’re a hunk. But seriously? What’s she going to do with you when she gets you?” Sid pondered aloud. “You’re mad as hell! This doesn’t have happily-ever-after for her stamped on it!”
“This is a first for me,” he said. “So—you’ve made travel plans?”
“I’ve been talking to Rob about it but hadn’t nailed anything down. But, seeing Neely at the soup kitchen, I think now is an excellent time for me to take that trip. And it would give me peace of mind if you’d agree to stay with Cal while I’m gone. I don’t want to think of you alone at the cabin.”
“I’m armed.”
“Even more reason. Cody, I don’t want to even imagine you shooting someone!”
“I hate to break it to you, but in wars—”
“I know, but this isn’t that. Yes,” she said. “We’re at an interesting juncture. A crossroads. This is the time for me to look at my past and see if I can reconcile it. And maybe decide where to go from here. You should do the same. Then we should talk about what will happen next with us.”
“Together?” he asked hopefully. “Are we going to talk about where we go together? Because I’m not ready to give you up.”
“We’ll work this out. And we should figure out what to do about Neely! This has to stop.”
“I’ll call Stan tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is Sunday,” she reminded him.
“I know where to get his cell number. And I’ll ask Cal to help me with this—he knows everything about the law.”
She sighed heavily. “I’m not running away, Cody. Dr. Faraday asked me specifically if I could come in and consult. I’ll be paid. He genuinely wants my input. He trusts me.”
“Just a few days?”
“Let me see what I’m dealing with. I promise to keep you informed. We’ll talk every day.”
“Why does it have to be you?” he asked, his voice demanding.
“I was very invested in his project. I know what I’m doing. At least, I did before a year of slinging drinks.”
“You’re saying you’re the only one qualified to do this? Now, when we’re just getting around to talking about us?”
She was very quiet. “Yes,” she said quietly. “This is a good time for me to go back there, see what I really want. Need.” After a moment, she said, “Maybe you should just take me home.”
He grabbed her hand. “Please, Sid. No. Come home with me tonight.”
“If you’re sure. I can’t say no to you.”
“That’s what I’m counting on,” he said. “Sorry I barked. I’ll keep my head.”
“Please. I think right now we need to be supportive of each other. We need to not go crazy. God, we’ve dealt with enough craziness.”
They were quiet for a long spell.
“I have some of your favorite wine at home. Let’s skip the bar and go to the cabin. Let’s get our heads on straight. We’re a little shook up, I think,” Dakota said.
“I think so,” she agreed.
* * *
There was no reason to get up early. It was Sunday morning. The bar would open later. Rob and the boys would probably sleep in. Dakota made himself bacon and eggs while Sid had her fruit and oatmeal. It was ten before they cracked the cabin door.
The first thing they saw was the paint on the Jeep’s hood was burned off and full of bubbles.
“Stay here,” Dakota said. He took a couple of steps toward the Jeep, then stepped back to the doorway. He pushed Sid inside and locked the door. “Acid,” he said. He pulled out his phone and dialed 911. Then he opened his laptop, signed on and looked at the video from the security camera. He scrolled through hours before she came into view. It had been nearly dawn. The image was perfectly clear thanks to the camera’s night vision, infrared LEDs.
* * *
“It’s going to be a busy day,” Stan said to the small gathering inside Dakota’s cabin.
Dakota sat at his desk, laptop open. Stan, Cal, Officer Glenda Tippin and Sid all looked over his shoulder at the screen.
“Dakota, can you download this and email it to me?” Stan asked.
“Sure,” he said. “Now what? Do we get to arrest her?”
“Sure, but that’s not going to be very satisfying. It’s malicious destruction of private property and, at the end of the day, it’ll probably be a fine. You can take her to court for damages, but what we really want is to make her go away. See, I’ve been doing a little checking—Ms. Benedict has a record. Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“Well, there have been two restraining orders that I can find. She’s broken into a house and created some havoc, destroyed some property, followed people. She gets in trouble, blows it off. She’s a poser. She slides into communities and groups, invents a new Neely, attaches herself, makes a nuisance of herself. She gets fined, gets sued, throws money at her problems. Yeah, madam comes from a rich family and apparently she can buy off her victims.”
“Good,” Dakota said. “I’ll take some of her money. The damage to the Jeep is considerable.”
“Agreed, but what troubles me the most is her playing around with dangerous items like knives and acid.” Stan shook his head and ran a hand through his sparse hair. “Jesus. I’m no genius, but I think she’s escalating. And I want her the hell out of my town.”
“Do we even know what she’s done?” Sid asked.
“Yeah, I know some things,” Stan said. “She claimed a man led her on. I don’t know what he did or if he did anything at all, but he was married. Neely put the family through quite a bit for a long time, until they moved. Then there was someone she met in a yoga class. A woman. A single woman. Neely wanted to be her best friend, stalked and pestered and created mischief until the woman got a restraining order. Apparently she did things like break into the woman’s house, did her laundry, set her table, prepared food left in the refrigerator. My wife asked, ‘What do I have to do to get her interested in me? I wouldn’t press charges!’ Four kids. My wife doesn’t have much of a conscience if housework and cooking are involved—she’d sleep with the devil.
“I’ve talked to Neely’s older brother. When I asked him if he knew a woman named Neely Benedict, he asked, ‘What did she do now?’ Our short conversation suggested she’s been like this since she was about five—no empathy or conscience whatsoever, very spoiled, very entitled. I suggested it would help mightily if they’d cut off her bottomless pit of money and he said he’s not feeding her family money. She’s getting paid out of a trust. Oh, and her brother doesn’t want her back.”
“Great,” Dakota said.
“She said she was invested in small businesses around Timberlake, but I sure can’t find anything about that,” Sid said.
“Oh, she’s made herself well-known around town, stopping in this business and that, acting like an heiress looking for a home for her money. But these are pretty simple folks around here and they’re not looking for a partner or investor. I guess we just don’t think like that.” Stan laughed. “Can you imagine this fancy woman driving out to Sully’s to try to entice him into letting her buy in?”
“Do we even know where she lives?” Cal asked.
“I’m not just some hick cop,” Stan said. “Of course I know, though I admit, work is harder when the suspect tells about half the truth. She lives in Aurora. Nice house on the country club golf course. I’m friendly with the Aurora chief. And the state trooper captain. We like to help each other out when we can.” Officer Tippin cleared her throat. “All right, no need to try to keep me honest, Tippin. I get most of my computer help from Castor. So what?”
“Do you have a plan, Stan?” Dakota asked.
“I do, indeed. I plan to appeal to her sense of fair play. When she comes to me to discuss the situation, I’ll offer to allow her to make restitution. She’ll want to do that. Then I’m going to suggest Timberlake isn’t right for her.”
“Swell,” Dakota said, not very encouraged.
“Meantime, until we get our differences straight, I’d like you to stay somewhere else. This cabin is awful isolated to be at the hands of some loony woman with acid. Jesus, I can’t even let myself think about the possibilities.”
“He’ll stay with us,” Cal said. Then he looked at Sid. “Plenty of room for you, too, Sid.”
“Thanks,” she said. Then she exchanged glances with Dakota. He knew immediately. She wasn’t hanging around for this.
* * *
A tow truck was called and eventually everyone had dispersed. Dakota and Sid rode back to Cal’s house with him, then Dakota borrowed Cal’s truck to take Sid home.
“Can we just talk a bit?” she asked. “Can we park somewhere and talk?”
“You know I’d always say yes to parking with you,” he said. She could tell it was all fake cheerfulness. He knew what was coming.
“Cody, none of this is your fault, but I don’t want to be in the middle of it,” she said. “With any luck Stan will have this sorted out and you’ll be done dealing with the crazy one. This is a perfect time for me to get this trip out of the way. I’m very loyal to Dr. Faraday. I’ve been trying to help him sort out a problem via computer but going there, to my old lab and my old colleagues, will serve more than one purpose. I should know if I want to go back to that career field. I did train for it for a long time. And I should know if I can make peace with the past. That’s the only way a person can move on.”
“And what else, Sid?” he asked. “Do you need to know if you’ll miss me?”
She smiled gently. “I know I’ll miss you. This will be good for us. We should see how we feel about things after a brief separation.”
“Didn’t we do that while I was in Denver looking for Sedona?”
“Kind of, but you were challenged with an important mission. I need to do the same thing. It’s been sneaking up on me, needing that important mission. I have to see how that feels.”
“It was so perfect for a while, wasn’t it?” he said, running a knuckle along her peachy cheek. “Like a time out from the real world. I know you have more important things to do than tend bar. I should probably stop pretending I’m a garbage collector. I should—”
“You don’t have to be in a hurry,” she said. “I hear snowplowing is fun.”
“What really happened, Sid? Was it just your lousy husband?”
“It was mostly him,” she insisted. “I think I’d been working way too hard, playing and relaxing way too little. I was too alone. It happens to people like me, you know? I was working in a university. I watched brilliant professors go off the rails. When the work is meaningful, it can get intense. When it gets too intense...”
“How do you keep that from happening?” he asked.
“I have some ideas. Coming to Colorado to be with family gave me balance. Working in Rob’s bar gave me people. Then there’s you.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Now that I’ve been with you, I have a new perspective. A jackass like David could never catch me now.”
“Good to know,” he said.
“Cody, if I’m going to go to LA, I want to go now. I feel bad about abandoning you before Neely is rounded up and stopped, but you have your family to shore you up. And I’d only get in the way. Now that she knows we’re together, she’s getting more destructive. I’m going to fade out for a week or two...”
He laughed sarcastically. “It was a few days. Now it’s a week or two.”
“I’ll talk to you. Let’s see how long it takes Stan to do something about Neely.”
“I don’t want you to go,” he said. “I also don’t want you to be anywhere near her.”
“You went to Australia and walked for a month,” she said. “That was your way of letting go of the past. What I’m doing shouldn’t panic you. For me, this is like a good workout.”
He shook his head. “You are such a beautiful nerd.”
“It’ll go by fast.”
“When do you think you’ll leave?” he asked.
“I’m going home to look up flights,” she said. “The sooner I go, the sooner I’m back.”
“I just want to be sure you’re safe,” he said.
She laughed. “There’s so much security in and around that computer lab, it’s almost ridiculous.”
“Where will you stay?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “I’ll email Dr. Faraday’s assistant and ask her to set up something. Could be anything from a hotel to guest housing. It’ll be perfectly safe and comfortable.”
“If you want me to go with you—”
“God, you’d be bored out of your mind! You couldn’t get clearance into the lab and I’m sure I’ll be putting in long hours. No. Let me do this. It’s not as scary as you think. I’ll be back.”
“Convince me,” he said, reaching for her. “Kiss me like I have nothing to worry about.”
“My pleasure,” she said.
* * *
Sid was able to arrange a flight out on Monday and Dakota drove her the two hours to Denver to catch her flight. Then she generously loaned him the use of her car since his was going to be in the shop for quite a while. He had barely arrived back in Timberlake when his phone rang and he saw it was Stan.
“What’s up, Chief?” he asked.
“I wondered if you had time to stop by the office before close of business. I just want to give you a heads-up.”
“Can’t you just tell me on the phone?” Dakota asked.
“I can’t, sorry. You need to see something.”
“I’ll be right there,” he said. “The sooner we get this over with, the better.”
Dakota walked into the small, storefront police station to find Stan and Officer Cantor grinning as they looked at the computer screen. “Just so you’re ready, Dakota, tomorrow at midnight, this goes out on social media.”
There was the surveillance video of Neely pouring acid on his car, coupled with a sliver of the video from the alley. Her face was much more recognizable in the dark alley video when it was put together with the better, more clear camera video from Dakota’s cabin. “So?”
“We’ve formed a nice little collective of small towns in the area, including Vail and Aurora, who will launch this public service announcement, looking for this woman.”
Dakota was not impressed. “What good is that going to do?”
“You on Facebook or Twitter, Dakota?”
“I have a Facebook page but I never look at it. I keep up with people, though. Just not that way.”
“You are behind the times,” Stan said.
“Like over twelve years,” Paul Cantor said. “I thought military men used it all the time.”
“I guess most of them do,” he said. “So, what do you expect to happen?”
“Honestly? We expect to bring her in, that’s what. Her friends and neighbors are going to recognize her, share it. She might see it herself. Most police departments have active social media connections helping them alert the public about important issues, encourage people to call in suspicious criminal activity, keep the dialogue open. All the TV stations have social media—they want their audience to talk to them. A lot of them will pick up this request to identify this woman. It will probably make the news.”
“But we know who she is!” Dakota said.
Stan and Paul both chuckled. “We do, don’t we,” Stan said. “And pretty soon everyone will. We might be this little out of the way town but I expect at least seventy-five percent of the population has Facebook and Twitter. Hell, that’s our president’s favorite form of communication. Though you gotta ask yourself...” He cleared his throat. “Your stalker is going to be exposed.”
Dakota was silenced for a moment. “Aw, shit, she’s going to burn my house down,” he said.
“It’s on the Timberlake Police page, buddy. Just camp at Cal’s awhile longer till we hear from the lady. And I’d bet my retirement we’ll be hearing from her quick,” Stan said.
Dakota sighed. He wasn’t encouraged. “You guys are just a bunch of candy asses,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be a lot more effective to go cuff her and charge her?”
“I might do that eventually,” Stan said. “Right now I’m thinking long-term.”
“Oh, man,” Dakota said. “I’m truly fucked.”
When Dakota got back to his brother’s house, he helped himself to a cold beer. Cal emerged from his office, took note of Dakota’s beer and got one for himself.
“What’s the latest?” Cal asked.
“Stan’s planning to catch her with Facebook.”
Cal whistled. “Crafty,” he said, a facetious tone in his voice. “You think maybe Stan’s been police chief too long?”
* * *
Sierra sat on the exam table in a paper gown. She swung her feet, midway between hysteria and euphoria. There was a light tap and the door opened. A lovely woman around her age walked in, reading the folder. She smiled. Dr. Culver’s name was embroidered on her white lab coat. “It appears you’ve explained the mysterious fatigue?” she said by way of a question.
“So the pregnancy stick says,” Sierra answered.
“Congratulations. How do you feel?”
“Nauseous in the morning, tired in the afternoon. And a bit worried.”
“About?”
“I was taking birth control pills,” Sierra said. “I looked it up on the internet—it says that’s nothing to worry about.”
“For once, the internet is correct. The worry comes a bit later, when you’re aware that at least that particular pill isn’t going to keep you from getting pregnant. You’ll have to try something stronger. Or different. Or maybe double up. But you can cross that bridge when you get to it. Right now I’d like to do a checkup.”
“To be sure I’m pregnant?” she asked.
“To be sure you don’t have anything else going on. I don’t have an ultrasound and I’m not set up for a pelvic, but I can get that ready fast. If you want me to have a look.”
“Would you know for sure? If you looked?”
“I trust those darn pregnancy tests, to tell the truth. But I can get some other bases covered—like rule out ovarian cysts, uterine tumors, et cetera. I just can’t tell you how far along without an ultrasound. I’ll get some routine bloodwork done, a urine test, and we can find you an obstetrician.”
“I’m very worried about hereditary disease,” Sierra said.
Dr. Culver put a blood pressure cuff around Sierra’s arm and it automatically pumped itself tight. “Anything in particular?” she asked.
“My father is mentally ill. He isn’t under the care of a doctor, but he has so many special friends it’s certainly schizophrenia.”
“Onset of that particular mental disorder isn’t usually until the early twenties. You have years before something like that might show up. Any other relatives with mental illness?”
“My sister has OCD and anxiety...”
“Not related to schizophrenia,” she said. “Your blood pressure is fine. Let me go get my bucket—I’ll draw your blood.”
“Bucket?”
“My supplies,” she said. “Be just a minute.” She exited and was back almost instantly. The doctor fixed the rubber band around Sierra’s upper arm, and while she looked for a vein, she chatted. “If you’re having a lot of worry about mental illness, we can certainly fix you up with a counselor. But the bottom line is there is a ninety-five percent chance your child is going to be in excellent health and live to a ripe old age, provided you take care of yourself. There is a three to five percent chance he or she could develop a medical problem or have an accident. He could get meningitis or Lyme disease from a tick or fall in a backyard pool. You’ll have to be on your toes, but you know that already. With you and Connie obsessing over the baby, I predict he or she will be strong and healthy and outlive you by many years. Of course, you could encounter something rare, something frightening.” She popped another tube on the needle. “A counselor could help you not be scared until you have some reason to be. And a counselor would also help you resist dreaming up shit. Oops, I apologize. Yes, the doctor has been known to swear. So sorry.”
Sierra was grinning. “I like when you swear.”
“I’m trying to quit. So, I’m going to make sure you’re not anemic—pregnant women suffer from that sometimes. And that you don’t have diabetes or blood in your urine. And if you’d like me to, I’ll measure your uterus and see if I can guess the sex of the baby.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Yes, I really do guess. But of course I have absolutely no way of knowing. Do you want me to peek and see if your cervix is blue and your uterus just slightly swollen?”
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll get a Pap done while I’m at it,” she said. “Let me grab a nurse or someone. Would you be upset if I had the janitor... Never mind,” she said, laughing. “Of course it will be a nurse.”
And then she was gone again. Sierra was in love with her.
Twenty minutes later, Dr. Culver said, “I’m guessing four to six weeks. Everything else in the pelvis is fine. And you can go ahead and stop taking those birth control pills.” She laughed happily at her joke.
“Did Connie tell you we’re in the adoption process?”
“No, he didn’t mention that,” she said. “On a waiting list?”
“No,” Sierra said. “We’re fostering a little boy, six months old. His mother was killed in a car accident and we’re adopting him with his maternal grandmother’s approval.”
“Six months?” Dr. Culver said. “Wow. You think you were tired before...”
“I know. Can you wave your magic wand and make this little surprise a girl?”
“I charge extra for that,” she said. Then the doctor leaned close, squeezed Sierra’s shoulder and said, “You’re going to have a wonderful family. Try not to worry. Try to enjoy all the enjoyable parts—there are many. And when you’re at the end of your rope, you can come in and complain to me for a dollar a minute.”
Sierra laughed.
“I can’t count the number of patients I’ve had who get pregnant just a few months into the adoption process. It’s amazing. I think holding a baby must make some women fire off eggs like rockets.”
“Is it really only three to five percent that things go terribly wrong?”
“Oh, sweetheart, I have no idea. I made that up. But I bet I’m close if not right on!”
Sierra went home feeling especially blessed. It looked like they had a healthy and beautiful baby boy and a perfectly blossoming pregnancy.
Two days later, the doorbell rang and her world crashed and burned.
Mrs. Jergens stood there with another woman, introduced as the social worker from the county. Mrs. Jergens was a little hunched from her arthritis, the knuckles on her hands swollen and some of her fingers bent. “I can’t do it,” she said. “I can’t give away my flesh and blood grandchild.”