I walked to the window in my living room and looked down to the street. I stared at the homeless woman who’d settled into the block directly across the street a couple of weeks ago. The woman I gave a couple of dollars to once a week as I passed by her. The woman who quoted a different Bible verse to me every time she saw me. The woman who shivered even when the days were warm. The woman who wore a Cartier watch and had freshly dyed highlights. The woman who knew exactly when I left and entered the building. I didn’t know who she was, friend or foe, but I knew that she was watching me.
I walked back to my bedroom and stared at my father’s box for a few minutes before closing it carefully and placing it back in my closet. I was grateful that I had removed my father’s papers from the box several weeks ago. I hadn’t known why at the time, but I’m someone who always listens to her first instincts. I then went to my dirty-clothes basket, pulled out my clothes, and threw them onto the floor. I instinctively looked around the room again to make sure it was empty, even though I knew there was no one in there with me. I pulled out my mother’s old cedar jewelry box that I’d hidden under the clothes and slowly opened it. I let out a huge sigh of relief when I saw the stack of papers hidden under the cheap costume necklaces I had bought at Goodwill. I carefully closed it again, carried it with me to the kitchen, and placed it in a plastic bag. Then I pulled my cell phone out again and made a call.
It had been four days since the note arrived. Four days that I’d been on tenterhooks wondering what was going to happen next. I’d never felt this anxious before. Or scared. However, I tried to continue living my life as I normally did. There was nothing I could do but wait and see what was going to happen next. I also knew what the next step of the plan was. I could do nothing but wait for my ex-boyfriend David to come through for me. He was my only access to more information. I hadn’t wanted to trust him, but I knew that in a game of cat and mouse the one who got the cheese was the one who took the most risks. I just had to be patient. Though it was hard. Even watching shows on the History Channel didn’t capture my attention for long.
“I’m not dating online again,” I muttered as I deleted another rude message from a man known as Matt, or as his profile said, KnightInShiningArmani.
Online dating was something I’d been doing since David and I had broken up. At first, it had taken my mind off everything that had gone down with David. Now it helped me to occupy my thoughts when my mind drifted to dark areas. Generally, I enjoyed my online conversations, but there was something about Matt that had really turned me off. He just wasn’t getting the hint. I’d made the mistake of talking to him twice on the phone before deciding that I wasn’t interested in going on a date with him. He definitely looked handsome in his photos, but he’d been arrogant and demanding on the phone, and his e-mails had gotten creepier and creepier. I stifled a sigh as I saw another e-mail come through from Matt and picked up my phone to call my best friend, Rosie.
“This is Rosie speaking.” Rosie’s voice sounded tired as she answered the phone.
“Hey, it’s Bianca,” I said lightly, and walked over to my vanity. “What are you up to?”
“Just a little something called work,” she responded with a sigh. I could tell she was tired from the lack of excitement in her tone. “What’s up?”
“Want to grab a drink tonight?” I checked my reflection in the mirror and sighed. Months of facial exercises hadn’t helped to define my cheekbones at all. “Not that I need any alcohol. My face looks puffy. However, I haven’t seen you in over a month, and we need to catch up. There’s some stuff I need to tell you about.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t look puffy, and yes, we need to catch up.” Her tone changed. “I want to hear what you’ve been up to.”
“Trust me, it does,” I muttered, frowning at the bags under my eyes. “I’m going to make myself a face mask and put some cucumbers on my eyes.”
“Must be nice to be self-employed,” Rosie said jealously.
“Must be nice to have a steady income,” I responded tartly. I’d been freelancing, writing entertainment articles for a couple of online newspapers, for about a year, and I wasn’t sure if I’d made the right decision. As much as I loved movies, my true love was for the kings and queens of England, and I really wanted to become a history professor. However, freelancing gave me the opportunity to play Sherlock Holmes, or, realistically, more like Stephanie Plum. I needed the flexibility in my schedule to allow me to investigate what had happened to my mother more freely.
“Touché.” She giggled. “And yes. I’m down for a drink. It’s been a long month and an even longer day.”
“Boss back?” I made small talk even though I didn’t want to. I really just wanted to tell her about the note and the fake policeman. I wanted to tell her about the woman who watched me from across the street and the feeling I had that someone was following me. I knew this wasn’t the time though. I’d have time to tell her everything tonight.