He’s At Your Door Page 3

  Equipped with more than I thought I'd find, I decide it's time to order in a pizza, but I have to wait until morning given the hour. I look up the company's number on my cell having used them so many times in the past. I read their trading hours and realize they don't open until eleven. The discovery sends a sigh out of my mouth as I push my rear up to the wall my bed is pressed against. I stare at my bedroom door, knowing it's going to be a long night.

  Chapter 8

  I didn't sleep a wink. Instead, I sat with my back firm against the wall, baseball bat in hand while my cell automatically cycled through each security camera while on charge. When morning came, inching its way into existence via the twittering of birds and the dampening of distant sounds, I checked, once every hour, to see if Beth had emerged from her room but she must have been sleeping in.

  Eleven ticks over on my cell. With bleary eyes, I dial out to my pizza place and wait almost ten rings before I get an answer.

  "Louie's Pizza," says a busy man on the other end over the sound of chatty staff and industrial ovens.

  "Hi, I'd like to order a large pepperoni pizza for delivery please."

  "One large pepperoni," he says slowly, no doubt writing the order out. "Anything else?"

  "Yeah, I'll need it to be delivered by Emilio."

  The man on the phone pauses. "Come again?"

  "I want my pizza delivered by Emilio."

  "Is this a damn joke? I don't have time for pranks. We're prepping for the lunch rush."

  "It's no joke. I'll pay double if you don't believe me. Can you send him? Is he on today?"

  The man mutters away, probably thinking I can't hear him cursing in the shop. I'm sure he's heard it all before working in the industry. "Fine, but you'll have to wait until he gets in. Also, I want payment upfront. Whatever this is, I get paid first."

  "Deal. I'll get my credit card," I say, not revealing a single thing about my odd request.

  * * *

  An hour ticks by when I hear a quick knock at the front door just after receiving a notification on my cell. The connection reveals Emilio standing nervously in the portico. I can't believe he actually came. The thought makes me doubt my suspicions somewhat. Could he really be so stupid to show up here the next day after leaving a threatening message on someone else's behalf? Then another harsh idea comes at me in a hurry. What if someone has paid him to come here and attack me? What the hell was I thinking ordering a pizza and requesting to have him deliver it?

  Before panic sets in, I unlock the four deadbolts and open the front door a crack to see his nervous face greet me. "Hello," I say with a whisper.

  "Pizza delivery from Louie's. It's all paid up."

  Emilio's in a hurry, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. Sweat slides down his forehead despite it not being a warm day for Arizona.

  I run my eyes up and down his body before opening the door any further. I spot the tattoo again on his forearm, confirming he was the one who delivered that box last night. I continue to stare and attempt to determine if he's got a weapon hidden away ready to pull out the second I come out to grab the pizza. My scan fails to help, given the baggy clothes the guy is wearing.

  I push the door halfway open and reach out to take the pizza box as he slides it out from a delivery bag. I grip it in two hands and bring the package in, placing it down in a rush on the kitchen bench.

  Emilio goes to leave. "Wait," I call out, realizing he will not attack. "Don't you want your tip?"

  "Oh, yeah," he says with a smile. His shoulders relax. He thinks he's off the hook. I reach into my purse and drag out a fifty-dollar bill. His eyes light up, expecting me to hand it over. I inch the note toward him but tear it back at the last second. I then bring out an object from behind the door Emilio is all too aware of.

  A wave of nerves pours from his face.

  I clear my throat and gather as much courage as I can. "This fifty is yours," I say, "if you tell me why you delivered this box to me at one this morning."

  Emilio shifts his eyes to mine. I can't work out if he is about to run away or attack me.

  We stare at each other in silence.

  Chapter 9

  Emilio contemplates running. I can see it in his eyes as they shift left and right, trying to find an escape from the situation he's allowed himself to fall into. I have to act fast.

  "Please," I say, finding my voice. "Don't run. I just want some answers. Nothing else. I promise you're not in any kind of trouble."

  He takes a step backward as if I'm a police officer struggling to talk him down from a ledge. "No, screw you. I'm out of here." He turns to leave.

  "Wait. I'll give you another fifty. That's a hundred-dollar tip for a few quick questions."

  He pauses with his back to me, frozen with indecision. I don't know whether to be happy or annoyed. I couldn't afford to offer him the initial fifty dollars let alone a full hundred. If he needs more than this to stay, I'm screwed.

  Emilio turns around. "You got two minutes. Then I'm out."

  "That's all I need," I say. I hold up the second note next to the first. He snatches the money and strolls toward me. I step aside, holding the door open for him to enter. He walks into my house, muttering away to himself. Beth is still in her room. If she sees Emilio, it will only generate more questions from her sharp mind I don't have the energy to answer.

  "Alright. Your two minutes is ticking down." He crosses his arms.

  I try to think of what to say to him. I thought I knew what I wanted to ask but staring at this heavyset man only makes me want to beg him to reveal all he knows. I have to keep it together.

  "Time's wasting," he says.

  "I know," I say as I grab the box with the Latin note in it. Clearing my throat, I focus on Emilio as best I can. "I need to know who asked you to drop off this package. That's all."

  He shrugs. "I don't know what to tell you. I was mid-shift at my job last night, and some dude comes up and offers me two hundred bucks to deliver this box to some place without ringing the bell or knocking on the door."

  "That's it? Just drop it off and leave?"

  "No, he told me to wear a hoodie to cover my face and to wait until the middle of the night. He warned me about the cameras. I realized when I got the address it was your house I'd be making the drop to. I didn't even know you had cameras. I almost changed my mind, but it was too late by then."

  I shake my head, wanting to scold him for doing this to one of his regular customers and a neighbor, but I bite my tongue. "So, this man, what did he look like?"

  Emilio shrugs. "Just some dude in a suit. Late forties, long brown hair, five o'clock shadow, strong build, and tall. He drove a black SUV. I don't know what else to say."

  These qualities in no means describe the man I fear. Emilio sounds like he was given money by a criminal hiding in a suit or some lawyer. None of my ex's associates dress in that manner.

  "Is that it? Can I go?" Emilio asks.

  "Wait. This man, did he say anything else? Did he tell you why he wanted you to do this?"

  Emilio stared away in thought for a moment. "No. Just deliver the box for two hundred bucks. That, with your offer, has made my week a decent one for a change."

  I snap. Before I can stop myself, I'm grabbing Emilio by his shirt collar. "This is my life we’re talking about here. Do you think I care about you making a quick buck? Now please, tell me what else he said to you. There has to be something."

  Emilio holds up both his palms, not wanting to push me off. He lets my feeble attempt to subdue him work. "That's all I know. I swear."

  I try to shove him toward the front door. He moves. "You don't understand. He's coming for me. It's only a matter of time."

  "Screw this." Emilio grabs the handle of the unlocked entry with both hands and jiggles it open in a hurry. He rushes straight through the opening as soon as he can. My phone buzzes in my pocket the second he sets off the motion sensor in the portico. I'll have great footage of him running off. I can
only imagine he'll tell the owner of the pizza shop I'm crazy and to put me on a list of banned customers. Fine by me. I'll never order from there again.

  I fight back an ocean of tears that want to spew out of my eyes as I close the door and engage each lock, one at a time. How can this day get any worse?

  "What was all that about?" Beth asks me.

  Oh crap. I spin round, looking guilty as hell and give her a forced smile that almost hurts my face. She's standing in the entry to the hallway wearing a T-shirt and shorts. How much has she heard?

  "Karen? What's happening? Who was that guy?"

  My fake grin fades in a heartbeat as I shake my head. "I don't know what to say."

  "This is about your ex, isn't it?"

  I nod.

  "I think it's time you told me what's going on."

  I walk toward my bedroom, trying to go by her.

  Beth moves out and stands in my way. "Are you serious? You can't expect me to listen to all that and just forget it."

  "Please," I say, staring into her eyes. "For your own sake, pretend you didn't hear a word."

  Beth scoffs. "You begged that delivery guy for information on your ex. What's so dangerous about this man of yours? Should I call the cops?"

  My head drops. I can't ignore the problem any longer. I have to either tell Beth the truth or advise her to find somewhere else to live. She deserves none of the trouble that could come my way.

  Beth steps closer and places both hands on my shoulders. I fall to pieces and throw myself into her. She wraps her arms around me and holds on tight while I fail to hold back my tears.

  "You don't understand," I blubber. "I'm not allowed to tell you. I'm not supposed to say anything about him."

  "About who?" Beth asks, keeping her voice down.

  "About my ex."

  We pull apart from each other. Beth's brows have twisted in toward the bridge of her nose. "Why can't you talk about him? Does he have that much of a hold over you?"

  "No, it's not that. He's..." I trail off, knowing I've already revealed more than I should. Why can't I keep it together?

  "Karen? What is it? You realize you can tell me anything."

  My eyes lift from the floor to her confused face. I barely know her, but she's the only person in my life right now. I have no one else. No one. I can't hold this in any longer. It's been five years of secrets, lies, and non-stop anxiety. It's coming out whether or not I want it to.

  "My ex. His name is... his name’s not important, but he is in prison serving a life sentence."

  "Holy crap," Beth blurts out. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that. It was just unexpected."

  "That's not all," I say, putting her back on track.

  "There's more?"

  I nod, closing my eyes for a moment. "The only reason he's serving such a long sentence is because of me. I testified against him in court about a crime I witnessed him commit. That got him locked up for good. I went into hiding under witness protection straight away with the help of the Department of Justice. But now, after five years, I'm certain Zach has found me. I think he might be sending someone to this house to harm me."

  Chapter 10

  I watch as Beth paces up and down a small space in the living area with one hand on her head and the other planted on her hip. Her eyes dart back and forth as they try to understand what exactly I had just said to her.

  "This is bad, Karen," Beth says. "This is extremely bad. I mean, I can handle most things. Not much gets me rattled, but if this is true, it's crazy."

  "I know it is, believe me. Not a day goes by that I don't think about it. That constant reminder forces me to live the way I do. I've lived the last five years of my life as a nobody, hiding away from society, avoiding people, while only rarely leaving this place. I order everything online. I work from the study in there as a VA because it's the only job I can get from the house with my skill set. Unless it can be done on the web, I don't dare step a foot out of this building out of a fear that Zach or one of his friends might find me."

  Beth's mouth has fallen open during my rant. So much so she places herself down on the sofa as if to take it all in. I've blown her mind with my messed-up world. She probably thought I was just some boring shut-in who'd done nothing crazy in her miserable life. Beth does not know about my past or the stupid things I've done being the girlfriend of a notorious criminal. But that time of my life came crashing down hard. So much so, I can't stand to think about it.

  "I have so many questions," Beth says. "I don't even know where to start."

  I can only guess what's going through her head as she says this. It might feel good to offload parts of the truth and take some weight off me that's been crushing my chest for countless years, but then it hits me: I've mentioned more than I ever should. I can't let her into my world any further.

  "No, I've said too much. Please don't ask me anything else. I can't have you getting caught up in all of this. You can still leave now before it's too late. I haven't said enough to land you in trouble yet." I think about how the US Marshal assigned to me taught me to never so much as say my ex's name.

  Beth lowers her head in thought.

  I take up her previous position and pace around. What have I done? I should have kept my damn mouth shut. What if Zack’s got this place bugged somehow and is hearing everything? What if that box I've left on the kitchen bench is a microphone? He will already know there's a Beth who rents with me and that she's a student.

  "I guess you're right," Beth says. "But no, I can't just leave you here. What sort of person would I be? Besides, isn't it time you called the cops or whoever looks after this kind of thing and tell them you think your ex has found you?"

  "That's what I was thinking about doing before you overheard Emilio at the front door."

  "Sorry."

  "Don't be; I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have taken you in knowing all this. It was selfish of me. I really needed the money."

  Beth frowns a little as she realizes I'm right. "Yeah, I guess that wasn't the best idea but what's done is done. Besides, I know now. I can help you out of this mess."

  "I doubt it," I mutter. No one can save me. Not now, not ever. I dug my grave five years ago. I've just been waiting all this time for someone to push me in.

  "Come on, Karen. Let's get you some coffee. After that, I think you should call whoever it was you were going to call before I interrupted."

  The coffee sounds like heaven as I wander to the sofa and take a seat. Then again, I could drink the stuff at any hour. I often had four or five cups a day to avoid sleeping as much as I could. Despite wanting to do nothing more than to hit my bed running and sleep for a month, I never manage to get in more than an hour or two before a nightmare springs me back up again.

  Beth leaves me seated as she makes me an extra strong coffee with milk and sugar.

  Minutes later, the brew hits my lips. I feel a calm take hold, one that's fleeting, but it's all I've got.

  "So, who do you have to call about all of this?" Beth asks.

  I glance up from my mug and see her all-too-eager face desperate to know more. Is this like a soap opera to her? This is my life we’re talking about here. Not some twisted storyline.

  "Don't worry about it," I say. "I need to speak with them on my own."

  "Okay, that's fair. I only want to do what I can to hel—"

  "It's fine, Beth," I interrupt. "I've got it. I'll call them. For now, I just want to enjoy my coffee." I close my eyes and bury my head into my spare hand. I don't know why I'm getting upset at Beth. She's done nothing wrong except put up with my nonsense. She shouldn't be here risking her neck like this.

  I decide I need to send Beth on her way before I make the call. It's the only decent thing I can do for her.

  Chapter 11

  "I'm not going anywhere," Beth says when I explain myself to her. I try to direct her to her room to pack all of her clothing and things so she can leave, but she won't have any of it. "I told you, I'm here to he
lp. You can't make me go."

  "Yes, I can," I say, half begging. "You still have your whole life ahead of you. I will not be the one to ruin it for you now, okay?"

  Beth scoffs. "What are you on about? You're what, ten years older than me at the most?"

  I stop trying to push her and shrug. "Sure, I'm not much older, but I've lived hard. I've done things I shouldn't have. Trust me when I say I probably deserve this. I really do."

  Beth's eyes fall to the floor. "We've all got our secrets or done crap we're not proud of. Hell, you think I haven't got any regrets in my life? If I could, I'd go back in a time machine and start over. But we can't hit a magic button and make it all fly away. We're best to admit to our failings and accept the past."

  I hold the look Beth gives me, wondering what's behind those puppy dog eyes she's ashamed of. I can't imagine her living a crazy life. Maybe she wants to help me. Maybe I should let her. God knows I could use someone to lean on throughout this awful time, but if anything were to happen to her because of me...

  "So, will you let me continue to help you?" she asks. "I promise you it's what I want."

  I shrug at her. I can't tell if Beth is looking for her next thrill or if she would feel guilty leaving. "If you really prefer to stay, I won't stop you."

  "Good, because I won’t walk out on you. I couldn't live with myself if I left and later found out that your ex murdered you in the night or something insane."

  We stand in the middle of the living room, staring at one another in silence to what Beth just said. Only the tick from a nearby clock in the kitchen that never holds the time well breaks through the sound of my breathing.

  "So, what happens now?" Beth asks. "I mean, how do you get onto the police? Do you dial a special number?"