The Stares of Strangers (4 page)

Chapter 5

Monday, December 8

6:45am

The next morning I got up early and made a pot of coffee. Carter was still in bed, snoozing away. I figured he’d wake up once the aroma of fresh brewed coffee wafted into the bedroom.

Early morning is my favorite time of day. It’s quiet and, once the caffeine has worked its magic, I feel energized and positive. On this morning, however, there was a lot on my mind, mainly Carter’s generous offer to move in with him.

After my divorce, I’d made a vow to never be dependent on a man again. That doesn’t mean I won’t ever fall in love again but keeping the two separate is key. I know first-hand how easy it is to fall into the trap. Not that I expected Carter to break my heart but, I didn’t want to give him the chance. I like the way things are. We are together, yet autonomous.

I downed my first cup of coffee and wandered into the guest bedroom, which used to be my son Brian’s room before he went off to college. Since I rarely have overnight guests, it’s used mostly for storage. Carter was the only overnight guest I’d had in months, and he slept in my bed.

If I eventually moved in with Carter, I would have to get rid of half my stuff. Most of the junk I own could easily be given away to Goodwill and I’d probably never miss it. But there are at least three large plastic bins filled with mementos from my past. One in particular—containing my mother’s prized treasures
—
is especially precious. Losing my dad when I was twenty, and then my mother just after I turned forty, left me feeling like an orphan. Sure, I have aunts and uncles, but those relationships have been relegated to Christmas card status. I know they are still alive but that’s about it. I have one cousin, but she and I never got along that well. She’s married to a doctor and looks down upon anyone living near poverty level.

When my mom died of cancer, I knew I had lost not only a mother, but the best friend I had ever known. She might have been stubborn, a little moody and definitely set in her ways, but I always knew she loved me unconditionally.

I opened the bin and breathed in the faint scent of Mom’s perfume, Chanel Number 5, which I had given her on every birthday. It was something she’d often complain about, saying she didn’t deserve such indulgences
—
but I knew she loved it, and looked forward to receiving a new bottle every year. Now, whenever I open this treasure chest, I spray the scent into the room as my way of keeping her memory alive.

When I have the time, I’ll sit on the floor and look through some of the old photographs. My mom fancied herself a photographer and always had a camera nearby. Most of her photos were of me, in all stages of awkward adolescence. Braces and frizzy hair when I was twelve. The punk rock spiked hair when I was fourteen. The big curly afro hair I wore for high school graduation.

Apparently, my mom thought I was the most exotic creature that ever walked the earth. She’d even enrolled me in Barbizon modeling school when I was thirteen, as if I ever had a chance. I felt like a fool amongst the “pretty” girls with perfect teeth and clothes that weren’t from K-Mart.

I can easily get lost for hours in my mother’s treasure box, reading old birthday cards and sifting through the knick-knacks that were precious to her. An antique pocket mirror given to her by her father; or the soft pink blanket that I clung to as a baby, now tattered and frayed.

As always, I came across the zip-lock bag, with three undeveloped 35mm films. I had no idea how old these were, at least five to seven years and before she bought that digital camera. For whatever reason, I have never sent them out to be developed. Do one-hour photo places still exist in this digital age?

I looked up toward the door when I heard footsteps. Carter stood there, looking down at me with a cup of coffee in his hands. “What’re you doing?”

“
I guess I was feeling a bit nostalgic this morning. These were my mom’s things.”

His eyes lit up. “Are there pictures of you when you were little?”

“
Yes, but I’m not showing them to you.”

He laughed. “Why not?”

“
Because you won’t be able to get the horrible images out of your mind. Suffice to say, I was a late bloomer.”

He pointed to the zip-lock bag in my hand. “I haven’t seen old 35mm film in a while. She never got them developed?”

“
No. I was thinking I’d try and find a place that still does it but if these are from my modeling school days, I will burn them.”

Carter chuckled. “You went to modeling school?”

“
Yeah. When I was thirteen, my mom thought it might help me with my self-confidence.”

“
Did it?”

“
No. Just the opposite, it got worse.”

Back in the kitchen, Carter made us some toast with peanut butter and just as we were about to sit down to eat, my cell phone rang. I checked the caller ID and saw that it was Penny Graham’s number.

My first instinct was to let her call go to voicemail, but I was curious. I decided to find out what she wanted.

“
Hello?” I said.

 
I could hear her sniffling. “Sarah, I'm sorry to call so early, but can you talk for a minute?”

“
Sure, I can talk. Is this about Trent?”

“
Did you hear the news?” Her voice sounded like a little girl who had lost her favorite doll.

“
Yes, Officer Bouchard called me last night. I am so sorry.”

More sniffling. “I just can't believe it. I mean, do you think he killed himself because of me?”

It seemed obvious to me that she felt some kind of guilt associated with Trent's death, but why did she care what I thought? “Penny, I don't have an opinion. I had never met Trent before. I know this is hard, but you can't blame yourself.”

“
I should have returned his calls. I shouldn't have ignored him like that. I knew he was depressed, so why didn't I just let him down easy?”

I felt bad for this girl. I didn’t blame her for feeling the way she did. “Trent was on a lot of medication. It's possible he simply took too many by mistake. It happens more often than you realize. The fact that he didn’t leave a note, you know, maybe he didn’t want to die.”

After a long silence, I sensed that Penny was trying to make peace with that. She cleared her throat and said, “Anyway, the real reason I called is because I need your help again.”

“
What do you need?”

“
My housemate Jessica was leaving this morning to go to work and she found an envelope stuck between the door and door frame. My name was written on it. Someone must have put it there between late last night and early this morning.”

“
Did you open it?”

“
Yes. There are some pictures inside but no note.”

“
Pictures of what?” I asked.

“
Pictures of me in my underwear. Looks like they were taken from outside my bedroom window. I'm wearing a black thong and my yoga bra, so I'm thinking the pictures were taken last Friday, right after I got home from my yoga class.”

“
And what time did you get home last Friday night from yoga?”

“
Around seven-thirty. I don’t remember seeing anyone snooping around. I can't remember if my curtains were open or not. Since our backyard is fairly private, I don't always pay attention to that.”

 “
My advice, Penny, is that you call Officer Bouchard and file a report right away. He might be able to get fingerprints from the photos. I don't suppose your house has any surveillance cameras that might have caught this guy delivering it?”

“
Nah, there’s nothing like that around here.”

“
Well, maybe one of your neighbors saw someone. I'm sure the police will question them. It appears as though someone is having fun taunting you. Most likely the same guy who stole your underwear.”

“
I called my parents this morning. I probably shouldn't have worried them, but now they're very concerned that I have a stalker. My mom is going nuts and she insists that I move back home. I don't want to do that. I have a life here, now.”

I still wasn't sure why she had called me. What did she expect me to do about this?

Anyway,” Penny said. “My parents want to hire you to protect me. I know it sounds silly but they are willing to pay you whatever you want. If you don't want the job, they'll find someone else.”

“
Protect you as in a bodyguard? I don't do that kind of work, Penny.”

“
But you have a partner, right? You said his name is Carter and he used to be a cop.”

“
Yes, but he's not a bodyguard.”

“
I know, but maybe you guys can make an exception. My mom just wants you to keep an eye on me until the cops catch this weirdo.”

I thought about what Marcy had told me the day before. If Penny indeed took pleasure from breaking hearts, maybe one of those guys had decided to get even. “Penny, can you hold on for a minute?”

“
Sure.”

I pressed the mute button on my cell phone and looked across the table. “Penny received an envelope in the door this morning that contained photographs of her in her skivvies. No note. She has no idea who's behind it but I think it's safe to assume it's the same person who stole her underwear. Her parents are rightly concerned about this freak and they want us to protect their daughter.”

 
Carter shrugged. “Sounds like a real job for a change.”

When I got back on the phone, I said, “Penny, are you still there?”

“
Yes. Can you do it?”

“
Carter and I can be at your house within the hour. Does that work for you?”

A sigh of relief. “Yes. Thanks, Sarah. I'll be waiting.”

“
In the meantime, you need to call the police department and ask for Officer Bouchard. Hopefully, he'll be available but, if not, any police officer will do.”

Chapter 6

When Carter and I pulled up to Penny's house, a police cruiser was parked out front.

“
That's good,” I said. “At least she took my advice.”

We parked the Buick behind the cruiser and got out. As we approached the front door, Officer Bouchard came out and greeted us.

“
So, here's the situation,” he said, gesturing to the plastic evidence bag containing the envelope. “I'm taking these to the lab to check for fingerprints.”

I was hoping he'd let me inspect the photos, but he made no effort to retrieve them from the evidence bag. “What kind of printer paper was used?” I asked.

“
Not sure yet, but it looks like regular photo paper that anyone can purchase from an office supply store. The printer used was low on ink because the colors are a bit faded. The handwriting on the envelope is all capital letters. It’s hard to tell if a male or female wrote it. I’ll have an expert provide an opinion on that.” Officer Bouchard scanned the neighborhood with squinty eyes. “Since this is a residential area, I don't suppose there are any traffic cams around, but I'll double check on that. Problem is, we don't really know when he dropped the photos off. Could have been anytime between late last night and six-thirty this morning. Anyway, I have Ms. Graham's statement and I'll file the report. Once I take care of this evidence, I'll come back and question the neighbors.”

“
You've got enough to deal with right now,” Carter said. “Why don't you let Sarah and me question the neighbors?”

Officer Bouchard nodded. “Sure, that would help. Ms. Graham mentioned that she plans to hire you two for protection. I wasn't aware that you did that sort of work.”

Carter jabbed a thumb toward Penny's house. “Whatever the client wants the client gets.”

Bouchard glanced at his pager and frowned. “Look, I need to head back to the station. I don't mind working together on this but, keep me in the loop, okay?”

Carter saluted him. “You bet. I hope you'll do the same.”

A few moments later, we were inside Penny's house and I introduced her to Carter.

As they shook hands, Carter said, “I'm sorry to hear about your predicament.”

Penny was dressed in sweats and Ugg slipper boots.  Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail. Without a stitch of make-up on her face, she still managed to look glamorous.

She offered us a seat on the sofa. “It's been a stressful morning. The worst part is, I don't know whether I should be scared of this guy, or if it's just a stupid joke.”

“
In cases like these, it's always better to err on the side of caution,” I said. “So you're doing the right thing by taking action.”

 “
My parents wanted me to call them as soon as you got here. If you don't mind, we'll be doing a video chat. They want to talk face to face.”

“
Fine, if it makes them feel better about it.”

 
Penny opened her laptop that was sitting on the coffee table. “We might as well get this over with. Are you ready?”

Within a few seconds, a screen appeared on the monitor. A man and woman in their fifties stared back at us from the screen. The woman--a well preserved lady of Asian ethnicity--looked just like Penny. The man, presumably the father, was Caucasian, dark hair speckled with grey, also well preserved for his age. They both had concerned expressions.

“
Mom and Dad, this is Sarah and Carter, the private detectives I told you about.”

The woman put a hand to her heart and smiled with appreciation. “Nice to meet you. My husband and I are very concerned about this situation and I want to know she will be looked after. I assume you have some experience in these matters.”

Carter cleared his throat. “Yes, ma'am. I've worked a number of stalking cases. In most cases, the perpetrator is identified within a few days' time.”

Penny's mother nodded, her strained features seemed to relax. “I'd like you to keep watch on the house at night. Money is no object when it comes to the safety of our daughter. Do you understand?”

“
Yes,” Carter said. “I understand completely.”

“
Mom,” Penny interrupted. “Don't you think you're overreacting just a little? I have a life, you know - and my two room-mates live here. I don't want to disrupt their lives.”

The mother gave her daughter a stern look. “We have already discussed this, dear. The only thing left to do is come to a financial agreement. Mr. Carter, what will you need to start the job?”

“
We charge a flat fee of a hundred bucks an hour plus expenses.  If you want to send two grand now, that will cover the first two nights. Then we can go from there.”

She didn't flinch at the amount, a good sign. “That sounds fair to me. It's a small price to pay for peace of mind. I don't expect the police department to give my daughter any special treatment, so I'm counting on you to make sure she is safe.”

Mrs. Graham didn't once consult with her husband about the financial decision, nor did he offer any comment. In fact, he reminded me of a statue in a wax museum; glassy eyed and unmoving. His wife obviously wore the pants in the relationship.

Penny leaned over and pressed a button on her keyboard. The image of her parents dissolved. She sighed with irritation. “Mom can be so bull-headed sometimes. She still thinks I'm a little girl who can't defend herself.”

“
She cares about you,” I said. “Can't blame her for that.”

“
Well, you guys can do whatever you want to do. You really don't have to follow me around all day long and, if you don't feel like sitting in your car and watching this house all night, my mom doesn't have to know.”

Carter shook his head adamantly. “We're getting paid to do a job and that's our priority. We'll do our best to stay out of the way.”

Penny let out a moan of protest, but she probably figured there was no point in fighting us on this. “So, what happens next?”

“
First of all, where are your roommates?” I asked. “Are they at work?”

“
Yes. They both work at the Foot Locker store in the mall. They try to get the same shifts so they can carpool.”

“
When will they be home?”

“
Around three, I think. Why?”

“
Carter will be installing some surveillance cameras at each entrance. The next time your stalker makes an unwelcome appearance, we'll have his face on video. Also, do you mind if we take a look at the backyard from your bedroom window?”

Penny stood up and motioned with her hand. “Sure, follow me.”

Carter and I followed her down a hallway and into a small bedroom, sparsely decorated. She pointed to the single-paned window, the only one in the room. A lace ivory curtain let in the light, but did little to provide any privacy. “As you can see, the back yard is very private,” Penny said, as if reading my thoughts.

Pulling back one of the frilly ivory curtains, I gazed into the backyard. There were no fences or gates to keep anyone from wandering back there. “You said before that you're pretty sure the pictures were taken last Friday after your yoga class. Too bad it rained yesterday. We might've been able to see foot tracks.”

“
It's still possible that our perp left some kind of evidence behind outside,” Carter said. “Like a cigarette butt. Do you or your housemates smoke?”

Penny shook her head. “No, none of us smokes. But we’ve had some parties so friends might’ve left some around.”

While Carter went outside, Penny and I sat down at the kitchen table. “Now, I need to make a list of people. Anyone you can think of that might be obsessed with you?”

With pen in hand, I waited for Penny to start listing names, but she seemed stumped.

“
Sorry,” she said. “I can't think of anyone off hand.”

“
Let's start with your job. Where do you work?”

“
I'm a part-time caretaker for a deaf elderly lady who has dementia. Three days a week, I go to Janice's house and hang out. She sleeps most of the time, so I end up watching a lot of TV. She's a sweet woman.”

“
Who hired you? Her kids?”

“
Yes. Her daughter hired me and she's the only one I deal with. All the other caretakers are female, too.”

“
Okay,” I said. “Moving along. Are there any other ex-boyfriends or guys you've dated since you moved here? Other than Trent?”

“
No one serious.”

“
But you've hooked up, right?” I hate the term
hook-up
, but my son uses that expression a lot. I figured it was the cool way to refer to the act of sexual intercourse without sounding old fashioned.

Penny blushed. “Well, yeah. I've been with a few guys. But I haven't heard from them recently.”

“
Did any of them have control issues?  Did any of them seem particularly infatuated with you?”

“
I don't think so.” She bit her lip and looked down at her hands.

“
Penny, you need to tell me the truth. I'm just trying to help.”

When her eyes met mine, she offered a weak smile. “Okay, so there's this guy I sort of had a fling with before I met Trent. I only slept with him once and I immediately regretted it.”

“
What's his name?”

“
Brandon Whitman. I met him at a party just a few weeks after I moved here.”

I wrote down his name. “Do you know where he lives?”

“
I've never been to his house, but I still have his phone number. You want that?”

“
Yes.”

She picked up her cell phone and thumbed the buttons. “Here it is.”

After scribbling down his number, I asked, “When was the last time you spoke to him?”

“
Months ago. He was pissed and left me some nasty messages, but I never called him back. He eventually stopped calling.”

“
Okay, tell me a little more about Brandon. Do you think he has the potential of being violent?”

“
Hmm. Honestly, I don't know.”

“
I think it's worth looking into him, but let's keep going. Anyone else who might be infatuated with you?”

She took a moment. “There is this one guy at my yoga class. He's kinda creepy. Always sets his mat next to mine, and I can feel him staring at me during the whole class.”

“
He stares at you?” I asked. Who wouldn't stare at her with a body like that.

“
Yeah, but he's never said anything to me other than hello and good-bye.”

“
Do you know his name?”

“
The name embroidered on his gym bag says Ken. He's always at the four-thirty class.”

“
What days do you go?” I asked. “The same days every week?”

“
I try to go three times a week. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Friday's. He was there last Friday.”

 “
So it's possible he could've followed you home after class.”

“
I guess it's possible, but I never noticed him.”

I wrote the name Ken in my notebook and underlined it twice. “Describe him for me, please.”

“
Well, he's probably in his late thirties. He has blonde hair with a long ponytail, kinda tall. He always smells like patchouli.”

“
Do you know what car he drives?”

“
Um, I think he drives a Prius. A lot of yogis drive them, I guess.”

I checked my watch. “It's almost noon. Are you planning on going to class today?”

She shrugged. “I dunno.”

At the sound of the back door opening, Penny jumped slightly in her chair.

“
It's just Carter,” I said.

“
Oh.” Penny sighed in relief as she clutched her chest. “Man, I’m a nervous wreck.”

“
It's understandable. You've had a rough few days.”

When Carter stepped into the kitchen, his nose was red from the cold. “I didn't find anything. I checked the whole perimeter of the house.”

“
Thanks for checking that out,” I said. “We may have a possible lead. There's a guy at Penny's yoga class we should look into. First name is Ken. He'll probably be at the four-thirty class today so Penny has agreed to attend so we can ID him.”

“
Why is he a lead?” Carter asked.

“
He has a habit of setting up his yoga mat next to Penny. And he stares at her during class.”

Carter chuckled. “I have a feeling most guys stare at girls during yoga class. It's what they do. Is there any other reason he's now our suspect?”

“
Well, think about the timing. Last Friday is when Penny thinks the pictures were taken outside her window. He could have followed her home from class.”