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“Hey, what are you doing here?” she stands at the kitchen counter, with a steaming mug in front of her, stirring the liquid.
“I wanted to come by and check in.”
“Oh yeah? Any specific reason?” She walks around and comes to stand in front of me, threads her arms through the space at my sides and interlocks, while pulling our bodies flush. I fight the urge to push her against the wall and take her. I need to figure out the answers to my questions.
“Well, I just was thinking about you, and shit. I’m sorry. I’m crap at lying. Can I ask you something?”
She looks at me with concern, “of course.”
“Do you know anyone named Becky?”
Her features look confused. She looks like she is thinking. “I don’t think so.” She shakes her head.
“Are you sure?”
“Why? Why are you suddenly looking at me like I’m lying to you?” She takes a step back and places her hands on her hips.
“You’re telling me you don’t know anyone by the name of Rebecca Winchester? Or Becky?”
“No. I don’t. Why? And should I?”
The phone in my pocket vibrates, and I pull it out. I see Jerry is calling and I answer it.
“Yes?”
“Sir, she’s outside the building again.”
“Where?” I ask, walking over to the window.
“She’s sitting in a blue Lexus, right under the tree across the street.”
“Thank you.”
I glance outside and true to my expectations; there she is. She has on large sunglasses, and her long hair covered by a baseball cap, but that’s her. That’s Rebecca.
“What is it?” Denise asks.
I motion for her to come to the window. “Do you know the woman in that blue Lexus?” I ask.
Denise steps up to the glass pane and squints as she looks across the street.
“No. I don’t think so. She doesn’t look familiar. Should she?” she stands up, turns to me and crosses her arms, closing off from me.
“Okay. I may have approached this totally wrong. You know how I told you my ex-girlfriend came out of the woodworks recently, well that’s her. And she’s been staking out your building.”
An understanding crosses her face, and then her worried eyes look at me.
“Last night, my building buzzer kept going off. When I answered, no one was there.”
“Did you let the person in?” I ask recalling the phone call I got from Becky and her mentioning something about Denise’s building.
“No. They said nothing, so I didn’t buzz them in.” She shakes her head.
“That’s not it. The past few days, I’ve felt like I was being followed.”
“Why haven’t you said anything?”
“I thought nothing of it.” She shrugs.
