EMILY

By the time we made it back to Phoenix, it was dusk. Lights were blinking alive all over the city, casting a glow up into the heavens.

I dropped the girls off and headed home. George’s house was dark, so I assumed he and Lucky were out somewhere. Hopefully they would be back soon. I really missed my dog. It seemed so strange to not have him waiting for me, greeting me with his slobbery kisses when I came home. Add the fact that I felt much safer when Lucky was with me.

I pulled the jeep into the garage, immediately closing the door behind me and made quick work of unloading my weekend treasures. George had left a note on the kitchen table. He and Lucky drove to Tucson to visit a friend and would either be back late tonight or in the morning.

Looking around the house, everything seemed to be exactly the way I left it four days ago. I checked closets and behind doors, under my bed, making sure all the windows were still latched tight. The apprehensions that faded over the long weekend in La Jolla returned with a fury. The safeness I had been feeling vanished too.

It was so quiet … too quiet. A shiver ran through me and I started feeling a chill, the kind that came from inside of my body instead of the air around me.

The phrase deadly silent came to mind. I’d read that somewhere and the term wasn’t portraying a good thing. Trying to shake it off, I turned on my iPod, filling the room with the hum of calming music and eradicating the eerie silence.

There, much better. Now I didn’t feel so exposed. All the blinds were turned downward so no one could see inside, but I couldn’t shake the feeling like someone had been watching me since the moment I pulled in my driveway. I peeked outside from the corner of the blind covering the front bay window, facing the street. Everything was quiet and I couldn’t see anyone. George’s house was still dark.

Heading into my office, I turned on my computer, staring at the blank screen.

Just one sentence, I told myself. Just one.

I began to type…

And so I finally started to breathe, to truly come alive … after so long living in the midst of a blinding fog.

Staring at the screen, a story began to form in my mind, just a glimpse of one but a story nevertheless. I wanted to keep going and see where it would lead me.

I made myself a cup of tea, settled back at my desk, and cleared my head of all the outside distractions. Just let the story flow out of me…

It was three hours later when I looked up. Darkness had enveloped the outside and the clock told me it was after eleven. George and Lucky must have stayed in Tucson. Rubbing my neck, I stood up and stretched. Looking back at my computer, I smiled to myself. It was a very good start. I didn’t make an outline to work with yet, I just started writing and I had over 2,000 words. I didn’t know the ending as of yet, or how I would twist and turn the story, but it would all come soon enough. Looking over everything I’d written so far, it felt good. Actually, it felt wonderful.

I shut everything down and made my way back into the kitchen. There were moonbeams of light filtering through the slits in the blinds, reflecting off the walls and creating an eerie picture.

The sound of an acoustic guitar hummed softly from the speaker, usually a calming sound, yet a creepy feeling engulfed me, causing the hair on my arms to stand up and a chill to race through me. I pulled my sweater tighter as I glanced around me. I felt like there were eyes following me again, watching my every move. I wanted to step outside and look to see if anything was amiss, but warning bells kept going off in my head.

I peeked out the front window, overlooking the street, using two fingers to open the slats on the blinds. Other than a soft glow from the street lamps, there was nothing, no movement of any kind. George’s house was still dark. Actually, every house I could see was dark. The whole neighborhood was sound asleep. So why was I so jumpy?

I tried deep breathing to make myself relax. I visualized the waves rolling onto the beach back in La Jolla, but the uneasy feeling I was having wouldn’t go away. I even thought of Elliot, but Maggie’s words came rushing back to haunt me. What if Elliot was the one watching me? What if I was completely wrong?

No, I’m just being paranoid, I told myself. Moving back into the office, I glanced at the security camera monitor on my desk but it showed me nothing.

There was no one out there…

And I was too old to believe in the boogeyman.

Back in my room, I traded the iPod music for that of the TV, adjusting the volume down to a low hum.

Throwing my clothes into the basket in my closet, I snuggled into my soft white sheets and drew the down comforter up to my neck. I tried to find a comfortable position and let the sound of the television lull me to sleep.

Thoughts of my weekend worked their way into my mind as I felt myself finally relaxing. The sound of the ocean, images of the girls toasting one another with laughter, the aroma of grilling steaks out on the balcony, and the vision of Elliot running on the beach. I felt a smile on my face and sleep began to surround me.

WOMP!!!!

The sound of something hard hitting my window made me jump up and then scramble to the floor. I crawled my way over to grab the robe I left draped over a chair in the corner. My heart was beating so hard I thought it was going to come right out of my chest. My mouth went dry as I struggled to get the robe over my nakedness without getting up from the safety of the floor.

What the hell was going on? I strained to hear something, anything.

Silence once again.

Did a bird hit the window? Or was someone out there?

Maybe my paranoid feeling of being watched wasn’t my imagination, maybe it was really happening. I crawled into my office to look at the security monitor, but all I could see was snow. Why isn’t it working? I screamed in my head. I hit the reset button on the front but nothing came up.

Shit.

I pulled the phone down to the floor and touched the talk button, nothing. The phone line was dead too.

Double shit!

What the hell was going on?

Don’t panic! I kept telling myself. The blinds are down and everything is locked up tight.

The only visible light was coming from the TV and a small light over the stove in the kitchen.

It was too damn quiet. The only sounds I could hear were the imaginary ones in my head, the sound of someone breathing as they waited, watching me. I could feel the panic starting to take over. I needed to stay calm. My heartbeat was thudding violently, making my head hurt and my ears throb.

I raced back to my bedroom where I’d left my cell phone charging. I couldn’t remember if I programmed Tom Campbell’s number into it or if I just threw his card in my purse.

Damn it.

My purse was sitting on the kitchen table where I left it last night.

THINK.

BREATHE.

DO NOT PANIC!

Okay, I’m going to be okay, I told myself, all the while my mind was screaming inside. I grabbed my cell phone and crawled into my closet, shutting the door behind me.

I’m not sure why I thought the closet was a safe place, but I remembered as a child, whenever I was scared, I would hide in my closet under the clothes. I figured if I couldn’t see anyone, they couldn’t see me.

My hands trembled as I scrolled down my list of contacts, almost dropping the phone several times from shaking so badly. I found Tom Campbell’s name and number and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. At least I did something right. I pushed the send button and waited, listening to the sound of silence outside of the closet door.

It seemed like an eternity before I heard a gruff, sleepy voice answer the phone.

“Hello … this is Tom Campbell,” he mumbled.

“Tom?” I whispered. “It’s Emily … Emily Golden,” I hesitated.

His answer was quick. “What’s wrong? Where are you?” he asked.

“I’m … I’m hiding in my closet.”

I tried to compile my thoughts, even though I was starting to lose it.

“I think someone is outside, in the backyard. Something hit my bedroom window … I checked the monitor, but the picture is gone, and my phone is dead, the landline … I’m don’t know what to do,” I told him, my voice shaking so badly it was barely comprehensible.

“Stay in the closet! I’m calling it in and heading out right now. I’m only a few minutes away from you. DO NOT COME OUT OF THE CLOSET!” he warned me. “Keep your cell phone in your hands. I will call you as soon as I get there. Better yet, call 911 and keep them on the line.”

He quickly hung up and I did as he told me.

“911, what is your emergency? “

The dispatcher listened as I tried to explain everything. She kept me on the line while I waited, talking to me, and reassuring me help would be there in a matter of minutes. It seemed like hours as I sat hidden among my dresses and long sweaters.

Suddenly the whole outside lit up like it was the middle of a sunny afternoon. I could see the beams streaming from under the closet door, bouncing all over the place. Flashlights! I jumped as my cell phone buzzed in my hand, signaling I had another call. It was Tom. I quickly clicked over to him.

“Can you open up the front door, Emily?” he asked. “I’m right outside now, and we have your house surrounded.”

I raced to the door, fumbling to unlock it, and threw it open. Tom gently set me aside as he and three other officers rushed in.

One went to the sliding door, and after pulling up the blinds and unlocking it, he slid it open and stepped into the backyard. The other two went from room to room looking in every closet, around furniture and underneath, checking in the garage. Tom guided me to the couch so I could sit down and go over everything with him. But before I could even open my mouth, the officer who had gone out back stepped inside, motioning for Tom to follow him.

“Stay there,” he commanded me.

I sat there wondering what the hell he had found. A commotion at the front door drew my attention. Maggie, dressed in old sweats and a sloppy ponytail sticking out the back of a yellow baseball hat, stepped inside with another officer holding her arm.

“Emily!” she yelled. “Are you okay?”

The man holding her back asked if I knew her at the same time she was yelling to me.

“It’s okay. She’s a friend of mine,” I told him.

She rushed over to me and hugged me, holding tightly.

“I heard your address over my police scanner and it scared the crap out of me. What the hell is going on?” She was out of breath and sounded almost as scared as I was.

“I’m not sure yet,” I said. “I heard something outside and suddenly the security monitors quit working and I had no landline. Something hit the window in my bedroom while I was sleeping. That’s what woke me up.”

She just looked at me dumbfounded.

“The police are out there now. They told me to stay inside.”

The two officers checking out the inside of the house walked through and went back out front. Maggie headed over to the front window and peeked out to see what they were doing out there.

“There are squad cars all over the place, in the street and your driveway. There was even one blocking the road a few houses down from you. I parked there and just ran up here,” she told me.

Tom and the other officer stepped back into my living room from the backyard. I couldn’t hear what they were saying to each other when Tom turned and looked at me. Maggie stayed over in the corner of the kitchen by the window and watched, quietly.

“I think your stalker is starting to cross the line here, Emily,” he said seriously.

“What happened? What’s out there?” I asked, my voice shaking. Even with the police right here, I was scared.

“It looks like he cut the wires to both your security system and the phone lines. He threw or fired what looks like a paintball at your window. There’s red paint all over it and the side of your house. It’s a mess. You’re lucky the window didn’t break from the force of it.”

The other officer jumped in.

“I looked at all the windows and the slider. It seems he tried to get inside at some point. There are gouge marks along the sides where he tried to jimmy them but it didn’t work. Someone is seriously pissed off at you or trying to get at you.” The man just shook his head. “We’re going to try and get some prints off the windows, but unless he’s in the system…” He shook his head again.

Tom glanced around the house.

“Where’s Lucky?” he asked.

“He spent the weekend with George. They went down to Tucson. They’re coming back in the morning. I’ve been in California since Thursday afternoon with my girlfriends,” I explained to him. “I came back around seven.”

“I think you should stay with me, Em.” Maggie stepped forward from the kitchen, startling Tom and making her presence known.

“And you are?” he asked her.

“I’m Maggie Campion, Emily’s friend.” She held out a hand to Tom, eyeing him warily.

He shook her hand and checked her out, all of her, slowly taking in every inch of her frazzled form.

“Tom Campbell,” he told her. “You were with her over the weekend?” he asked.

She just nodded her head.

The officers from outside came back into the house; including Tom, there were five of them crowding my small living room.

“There’s nothing out there. We checked all around the neighborhood. There are a few squads driving around to see if anyone is just hanging out watching, but there was no one. It’s quiet tonight,” one of the men told us. “I want to keep a couple of cruisers in the area, see if he or they come back.”

“They probably won’t,” Tom told him. “I think he knows we’re here. He seems to be putting time between his actions, at least here by the house.”

He turned to me.

“I would rather you had someone stay with you or you stay with a friend until we can catch this guy, and keep Lucky with you at all times. I don’t want you taking any chances.”

Maggie spoke up. “I can stay with you the rest of tonight and tomorrow. We need to run back to my house and get some things in the morning.”

I just nodded in agreement. Things were happening too fast. I couldn’t think clearly about what I needed to do. I was too damn scared right now.

“I can talk to Andrea in the morning. She’ll want to help, and we can take turns until they catch whoever is doing this,” she added.

I just nodded again. The situation was starting to sink in. I couldn’t be alone until we all figured out who this bastard was. What the hell had I ever done to deserve this? Who the hell was he?

Tom touched my arm, bringing me back to the present.

“There will be an officer parked out front for the rest of the night. If you hear anything, anything at all, call it in! Keep your phone next to the bed and charging.”

He looked from me to Maggie. “Both of you, I don’t care what time it is. If you hear something or even feel like someone is out there, call 911 and me. Promise?”

Maggie answered for both of us. “We will,” she promised.

I was exhausted, I wanted to go to sleep and forget this was happening. I wanted it all to go away and leave me alone.

Maggie let the officers out the door and locked up. She did one more check of the house to make sure no one was getting inside and crawled in next to me, our cell phones plugged in, ready, just in case. I’m not sure how, but in the early morning hours, I fell into a troubled and restless asleep.