I'll Always Find You Page 2

  “I’d appreciate a ride,” Loni said, “but I have my car here.”

  “Leave it,” Mr. Adams said. “You’re too upset to drive. I’ll pay your taxi fare to work in the morning, okay?”

  “Thanks, that sounds great.”

  After a half hour at Joe’s office while he typed his report into a computer, they signed it and he gave them a ride home.

  On the way, Sheri again chattered, “I still think you should have obeyed those robbers. You took a very foolish chance, Loni.”

  Sick of Sheri’s complaints and too tired to argue, Loni leaned her head back against the seat. She knew she had acted properly in using the silent alarm.

  “That’s what alarms are for,” Joe told Sheri, giving her a frown in his rear-view mirror. “The perps will always try to intimidate you to keep you from doing what you can to protect yourselves.”

  “Humph,” Sheri snorted, but thankfully stayed silent the rest of the way to her apartment.

  Joe accompanied Loni to her door and she thanked him again for the ride home. “If you think of anything else, give me a call,” he said, handing her a card.

  Loni let herself into her apartment, exhaustion filling her. She made some hot cocoa and drank it, then climbed into bed, but lay there, unable to sleep. The robber’s threat kept playing in her mind, over and over. “If you tell the police anything, I’ll come after you.”

  He’d taken her business card. He’d said he could find anyone on the internet. Lots of ways to do that, if a person knew how. How long before he found out where she lived?

  Surely he’d been bluffing. How could he expect her not to talk to the police? He’d pulled an armed robbery, for heaven’s sake. How else could she explain all the missing money and jewelry? He’d have to be stupid to think she wouldn’t report it. But wasn’t he either stupid or desperate to commit an armed robbery in the first place?

  Finally, she sat up and read for a while. About midnight the phone rang. She recoiled and eyed the instrument. No one ever called her late at night.

  It kept on ringing. She had to stop the noise. Teeth chattering with nerves, she picked it up and put it against her ear. No one was there. She slammed the phone down.

  Was it just a wrong number? Or a prank caller?

  Or had the gunman tracked down her home address already?

  * * * *

  The next night she received three scary phone calls. The first was a disguised voice saying, “I’ll always find you.” When she answered the next call, and the next, no one was there.

  Hank called to politely apologize and ask her to dinner again. She refused, told him to leave her alone and hung up. When she arrived at work the next day, a single yellow rose in a crystal bud vase waited for her. Another polite note from Hank accompanied it. “So sorry if I upset you. May I take you to dinner tonight? Call me.”

  “Oh, you’re so lucky!” Sheri enthused, reading the note over her shoulder. “You’re going, aren’t you?”

  “Definitely not,” Loni said. She crushed the note and tossed it in the waste basket. She almost tossed the flower, too, but Sheri looked so appalled, Loni relented and left it on the display case. Why deny them both the sight of a lovely flower just for spite?

  Evening brought six weird phone calls. She paced her bedroom, tried hard not to answer until the ringing unnerved her and she gave in. She got very little sleep and decided enough was enough.

  She called Joe, the detective who’d given her his card after the robbery. She reminded him of the robber’s threat to find her.

  Later Joe Jennings called her back. They’d traced the calls, just in case they were connected to the robbery. Each had been made from a different pay phone in the area. It was impossible to know who had made them. He recommended she call the phone company and change her number to an unlisted one.

  She did and received no phone calls that night. The next night there were six again.

  After more consultations he suggested she get an answering machine and let it do the answering for her. She got another unlisted number and bought the answering machine to screen her calls. When she returned after work, she found only one message on her answering machine—another distorted voice threat, saying he could always find her.

  At work, when she complained about the calls, Sheri sympathized, but added, “At least you have one admirer. The florist brought another rose for you.”

  Loni groaned. Every morning that week, another fresh yellow rose in a crystal vase had arrived from a florist shop. The first few days, Loni left it on the display case for everyone to enjoy.

  Then one afternoon, she looked up and saw Hank stroll down the mall corridor past their jewelry store. He glanced in and smirked when he saw his yellow rose.

  Appalled, Loni realized she’d encouraged Hank by displaying his rose. After that, she insisted any future roses be refused and returned to the florist.

  Upset at her order, Sheri asked, “Why not enjoy the flowers?”

  But Loni stood firm. Hank’s smirks left her feeling queasy.

  The next night a dark sedan followed her home. She kept an eye on the car in her rear view mirror, even going blocks out of her way and circling back in an attempt to ditch the tail, as she’d seen detectives do on TV. The sedan hung back, but stayed with her.

  Was it those robbers? She couldn’t tell who was driving or get a license number.

  When she reached her apartment house, she parked across the street as usual. She hurried inside and watched through the window. The sedan turned the corner and sped away. The car had tinted windows and a broken left taillight. Had the driver merely wanted to make sure she went home? Or to find out where she lived?

  She phoned Joe, the officer who was investigating the robbery. He said he didn’t have much to go on if she didn’t even know the make of the car. There was another disguised voice message on her answering machine. She played it for him, but he claimed the voice was too distorted to be of any use in tracking who’d made the call. She hung up, feeling more frustrated than ever.

  By midnight her answering machine had picked up three phone calls with no one leaving a message. Lack of sleep was making her very cranky. She tossed and turned, her bedcovers becoming a mess of knots. Finally she unplugged the phone to get some sleep.

  The next morning she went down to the station and talked to the police again. She found Joe, the tall officer who’d seemed so friendly and given her a ride home. She’d brought her answering machine along and played the messages to him and his partner as proof of the harassment and threats. They were sympathetic and kind, but said their hands were tied.

  “But I know it’s that robber,” she insisted. “You have to catch and stop him.”

  “We’re sure doing our best to solve the jewelry store heist. But we aren’t sure that’s connected to these calls.”

  “It has to be! He threatened me during the robbery and the calls started right after the robbery.”

  “That could be a coincidence, Ma’am. I’m sorry, but we have to have evidence. The voice on the machine is disguised. We can’t even be sure the calls were all from the same person.”

  “Who else could it be?”

  Joe’s partner, a paunchy, middle-aged man, shrugged. “Who knows? Telemarketers? Kids? Or a crank caller? You’re a pretty woman. Usually it turns out to be a disgruntled ex-boyfriend or ex-husband.”

  She’d stared at the detective, blushing at his frank appraisal and compliment. “I’ve never been married.” But she did have an ex-boyfriend. Naw. She couldn’t imagine fussy, fashion plate Hank stooping to pranks. He’d turn up his nose at the very idea.

  “I’m sorry we can’t give more time to this, Miss Jacobs,” Joe said, nodding at the files on his desk. “I have a bunch of other open cases. And I’ve just learned a couple of cases I’ve been working on may tie into the homicide of a young woman that happened last fall, so I have to give those priority. And we’re short-handed due to the latest round of budget cuts—.” He spread h
is hands in a ‘what can I do?’ gesture.

  “Yeah. Thanks, anyway.” She’d gotten his message. As long as the caller did nothing to harm her, the police would do nothing. They didn’t have the manpower to guard every woman in Chicago who claimed someone was harassing her. They had more important things to do.

  * * * *

  Loni spent another night sleeping in short naps, then tossing and turning, half awake. Around three in the morning, she awoke to someone pounding on her door, yelling, “Wake up! Fire! Get out!”

  Was it another prank? She sat up, smelled smoke and jumped out of bed. Throwing on a robe, she flipped the light switch, but nothing happened. The power was out. She hurried to her door to investigate. But smoke billowed in her face when she opened her door and she quickly drew back, slamming it closed.

  Yikes! There really was a fire. She had to get out. She could call the fire department from somewhere else or maybe the guy waking people had already called them.

  Jamming her bare feet into tennis shoes, she grabbed her shoulder purse, opened her second floor window, hopped out onto the fire escape and quickly climbed down the metal rungs. Sirens blared in the distance and other people already stood on the street, yelling at her to hurry. She dropped to the grass from the lowest rung and hurried across the street.

  Shaking, she watched as police and fire vehicles roared up and began dealing with the fire. Flames were shooting high above the roof.

  Loni shivered. She stood on the sidewalk across the street, watching her apartment house burn. She saw several people she knew, including the manager who lived on the first floor and walked over to him. “Did everyone get out?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen everyone.”

  “What happened? How did it start?”

  “I have no idea. Someone pounded on my door to wake me, and I ran around to wake the rest. God, we’re lucky. We all could have died in there.”

  Loni nodded. She had no doubt about that.

  She shivered in her robe and tennis shoes. Officers moved through the crowd, asking questions and making sure all the residents were accounted for. Again, she answered questions for a police report. There was obviously too much damage to go back inside.

  She considered asking Sheri if she could stay with her until she found a new apartment. But she didn’t know Sheri that well and lately Sheri seemed to blame her for their problems. She had to put up with her attitude at work, but could she stand listening to her whine at night, too? She shuddered and decided a hotel would be best for now.

  Knowing she’d need her car to shop and go to work, she refused a ride from a policeman and drove herself to a hotel.

  * * * *

  He stood back in the shadows of a neighboring house, watching the fire. He could see Loni’s window on the second floor. Would the bitch burn in hell in there? He hoped not, that would be too easy.

  He wanted her to suffer first, to live in fear and not know what would happen next. He wanted revenge, but not right away. He’d made enough noise to rouse the manager so everyone could get out. He didn’t want to have to lie low because of a big investigation, so he’d rather no one died in the fire. He’d already seen her at the police station today, no doubt complaining about his phone calls. But he’d made sure they couldn’t connect those to him.

  Ah, yes, she’d climbed out onto the fire escape. She even had a purse over her shoulder, so she couldn’t be too rattled.

  Was she bare under that bathrobe? Maybe he should offer her a ride and see if he could figure out if she wore anything under it, like maybe a pretty negligee. Naw, too risky to offer her a ride. Best not let anyone know he’d been anywhere near this place tonight.

  He stayed out of sight and watched. There were lots of onlookers standing around, besides cars of gawkers driving by, so nobody would notice him there. When she went to her car, he slipped into his vehicle and followed her to see where she would be staying. It was probably time to add a tracking device to her car now she no longer had a home. He didn’t want to waste time looking for her. No point in making life difficult for himself, when the technology was available to make keeping track of her simple.

  * * * *

  After checking into the hotel, Loni drove to an all-night superstore and bought a basic wardrobe and necessities. Thank goodness she’d thought to grab her purse. At least she had her ID and credit cards to buy what she needed.

  The clerk at the store looked surprised to see a shopper in a bathrobe, with only tennis shoes on her bare feet. But after Loni explained about the fire, the lady was very sympathetic and helpful.

  Loni remembered the anonymous phone calls and bought a new answering machine for her hotel room, then realized they had an answering service instead. Oh, well, she’d need one when she found a new apartment anyway. Next she bought a new laptop. Her old one was toast.

  * * * *

  Quiet reigned for a few days. Loni went to work as usual and scanned the classified ads for possible apartments. On her lunch breaks, she went to look at a few possibilities. She didn’t find any fitting her needs or her budget. A couple of apartments would require too difficult a commute to her job. Others she didn’t even look at when she recognized the addresses as bad neighborhoods. She set up her email and synchronized her cell phone with her laptop, so she’d have copies of her address book. Thank goodness for modern technology.

  The tension of working where the robbery had taken place was getting to her. Sheri treated her coldly, still blaming her for putting them in danger, insisting Loni had been a fool to trip the alarm and anger the robbers.

  “It didn’t help them catch them anyway, did it?” Sheri had said again this afternoon.

  “No,” Loni admitted. “But we can’t be sure they knew I tripped the alarm either, can we?”

  “Well, duh! Who else is doing all this stuff?” Sheri asked with a smirk.

  Loni sighed. She had no answer for that. And now she was sorry she’d told Sheri about the constant phone calls and mentioned the manager had said the apartment fire was suspicious.

  After work, Loni stepped into her hotel room, exhausted. As she dropped her purse on the tiny table, she noticed her phone was blinking to announce a message waiting. Cautiously, she punched the play button. “You’ll never outrun me, Loni Jacobs,” the deep, raspy voice told her. “I’ll always find you, wherever you go.”

  Chapter 2

  “No!” Loni gulped in dismay. Not again. How could he know where she was staying? The phone only beeped in reply, and then went on to report a second message.

  She hung up in frustration, and turned her back on it, chewing her lip and swiping aside tears. The soft beige tones of the hotel room décor seemed to spin around her. She sank into a chair and dropped her head down between her knees, fighting the nausea which threatened.

  What was she going to do?

  She’d had three different phone numbers. Now he’d found her again. She couldn’t change her number in a hotel. Should she try a new town? Yes, she’d have to move and soon.

  Her nausea receding, Loni got up to glare at the phone, then remembered there was one message she had yet to listen to. Hoping it wasn’t also from her tormentor, she punched the play button. Relief flooded her when she heard her Aunt Dee’s voice. Dee lived in Canton, the small town where Loni had grown up about an hour from Minneapolis. Loni treasured the good times she’d had working in Dee’s gift shop during her high school years.

  “Loni, please call me. I need your help.” Her beloved aunt’s familiar voice trembled with emotion. Loni’s throat tightened. She pictured her diminutive relative in a car accident, or the victim of a robbery like she had been.

  She pulled her cell phone from her purse, quickly found Dee’s number, and pressed call with unsteady fingers. “Hi, Auntie, it’s me. I just got your message. You sounded upset.”

  “Oh, Loni! Thank goodness. I’ve been trying to get you. My sister Mindy had a stroke!”

  “Aunt Mindy?” For a
moment, Loni’s mind was blank. She sank into the chair. Dee was all right. She cared about her Aunt Mindy, too, of course, but it wasn’t the same. Loni barely knew her. Mindy lived in California and Loni had only met her a couple of time, years ago. Relief made Loni’s pounding pulse slow. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Dee said, “I need you to come back home to run my gift shop so I can move to California right away. I need to go take care of Mindy. She says she can’t stay in the hospital long and she doesn’t want to go to a nursing home.”

  Loni swallowed and her stomach churned. Settle down in one place? No, she had to be free to run if this nut found her again. She couldn’t let him trap her in one spot. How to explain her fear to Dee? She didn’t want to worry her. “Oh, but I—”

  “Now’s your chance, dear. You’ve been working in nice gift shops and jewelry stores for years, haven’t you? Remember when you worked with me here in high school, you always told me your dream was to someday own a small shop like mine? Well, now it can be yours. You can run it like your own until I can sell it.”

  “Couldn’t Mindy come stay with you?”

  Dee chortled. “No way! I’m sure I’ve mentioned she vowed when she left Minnesota that she’d never live where it snowed again.”

  “Oh. Yes, I forgot that.” She tried to think of another option for Mindy, but nothing came to mind. With a sigh, she said the only thing she could. “Of course, I can come help you out for a while.”

  “Wonderful. I’m so relieved. I’ll pay you a good salary, just like you’re earning now. Or maybe you’ll even buy my store yourself?”

  “Buy it? I don’t even have a down payment right now.” Well, she had the life insurance money her parents had left her when they died a couple years ago. Did she dare use some of that? Why not?

  “You don’t need a down payment. I’ll turn the shop over to you and you can make monthly payments. I won’t need the money right away, especially if I’m living with Mindy.”