Chapter

Dove struggled the next time it happened, trying to decide whether or not to call the police. She knew they would come, but that hardly meant they would believe her. Maybe the fight with her husband had made the difference for Nate. He certainly seemed to care more than he had before.

But the man had peeked into her window again, the black face pressed up close. And she swore this time he waved. It was just a small back-and-forth movement of the hand, but he had brought his hand up next to his face to do it. The motion was unmistakable. For some reason, that was what pushed her over the edge from calm to frightened. He had had the audacity to wave at her.

She couldn’t help it. She called. Maybe Nate would come anyway. Nate, in his uniform, who would protect her and believe her and not make her feel stupid. She wouldn’t mind seeing him more.

There was a knock on the door, and she rushed to answer it. Cops she didn’t know answered it. “Uh, hi, officers. He ran off to the left.” She pointed.

“We didn’t see him running away,” the man answered.

Dove floundered. “But he was! I think he might be ducking back behind the houses.”

“Look, Dove, let’s just be clear. Filing a false police report is a crime.” He pulled up his pants, then looped one thumb through the belt buckle underneath his sizable belly.

“It’s not false! There was a man at my window. He waved at me.”

“He waved at you? Oh, well, that changes everything. Look, Ms. Babcock, are you sure you want to file a report?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re going to, okay? If you insist on coming down to the station and filing one, I will see about having you arrested for filing a false report.”

“What?” she asked. Her hands had begun to shake. She didn’t know when that had happened.

“Filing a false report is a crime. Reports are for emergency use only. I haven’t seen any emergency here, did you, Treeger?” he asked.

His partner, a very thin, very quiet girl, seemed surprised to have been asked for her opinion at all. “No, I guess not.”

“Then that’s all there is to it.”

* * *

The next time Dove called the police precinct, Nate’s shift hadn’t started yet. By the time Frank came back, it had. “Any luck?” he asked.

“No, because there’s no luck to be had. I think it’s about time we stop going to check them out,” Frank said. “Put her down as a frequent caller, tell her if she keeps calling without anything being wrong we’re going to charge her with creating a false report.”

“How did she seem?” he asked.

“Too calm to really be being stalked,” Frank answered.

Nate knew better, though. He remembered her after her fight with Harold. She had been perfectly calm after. Of course she’d be calm after being stalked. That was just Dove. He realized that that was what he liked about her.

“You want to go check on her, don’t you?” Jessica asked.

“Shut up,” he answered.

“I see the wit has certainly approved. We can stop by on rounds. Just make sure everything looks fine,” she said.

“Okay, yeah,” he said. “We can do that.” They walked out to the car and began rounds, driving around town and waiting for calls. They drove to Dove’s house, and Nate got out, looking around the house. He wanted to catch the man in the act.

“Hey, get out of here!” he heard screaming. A moment later, a pan came flying at his head.

He ducked. “What in the world?”

“Oh! Nate! Nate!” she called. He heard the clatter of the pan hit the dry grass.

“Who did you think it was?”

“Well, the stalker, obviously.”

“And you were going to take him out by hitting him with a frying pan? What if he had a gun, Dove? I have a gun.”

“It’s not as if you guys are doing anything with your guns,” she scoffed.

“What made you decide this time to come out and attack?” He wondered if Dove knew just what kind of danger she had put herself in. It came from all sorts of sources. He couldn’t believe that she would just try to attack an attacker with a frying pan.

“Frank told me that if I kept filing false reports I’d be arrested.”

“Oh.” He frowned. “That must make you feel pretty hopeless.”

“Better now that Teressa saw him. But if the police can’t help you, why not take matters into my own hands?”

“Because you’re going to get killed.” He started walking back towards the car, and she followed.

“I’m starting to think I’ll get killed either way. Who knows what this guy wants?”

“He probably just gets off on scaring you. He might do nothing.”

“Well, then, he’s doing his job.”

“Really?” Nate asked. “You don’t seem very scared.”

“Did you really think all this happened and I wasn’t frightened?”

“I don’t know, I figured peace of God or something.”

“I wish,” she snorted. “I don’t know; I think God’s peace for me is that it’s a stalker and not just my mind. The second is a lot scarier, believe it or not.”

“I believe it,” he answered. They reached the car. “Well, I probably should get back on patrol. Please, if the guy comes back, don’t hit him with a frying pan. Not unless that’s your only option.”

“What do I do instead?”

“Maybe stay with that nice friend of yours, Ms. Orolv.” Nate hoped maybe the problem would disappear with that. There wouldn’t even have to be any more looking into it. Some problems faded away with time. It wouldn’t exactly be closed, but it would be cold, and eventually forgotten about, and everyone could move on with their lives.

“But what if he comes?”

“Then there will be more people there to deal with it.”

“I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to her because of me.”

“And do you think she could live with herself if something happened when you were here alone? Don’t you think it would kill her?”

“I didn’t think of that,” Dove said softly.

“Do you want us to give you a ride over? Maybe leave some lights on here and stuff, so he’ll think you’re still here and won’t go looking for you.”

“Do you believe me now?” she asked.

“I guess I do,” he answered. “Go pack up. It will add to the illusion if your car is still here. And if anything happens again, you can call me directly. Unless it’s an emergency, in which case 911 is the best answer.”

“Thanks, Nate. I guess cops really are heroes.”

“I don’t know that all of them are,” he answered.

“Oh, then you must be pretty special, then. Not that I ever doubted that.”