See Me (26 page)

Returning from the store, she parked in the same spot she’d vacated, deciding to leave the windows cracked to cool the interior. Ken’s car was already gone, and if history was any indication, he wouldn’t be back until one thirty or so. Relieved, she tried to settle into work. Between the roses, the message, and now Ken, she felt ready to collect her things and go home. Maybe she could feign a migraine and leave early… but what was the point? Barney would still expect her to complete the work, and even at home, she knew she’d continue to obsess over the day’s events.

You will know how it feels.
 

How what feels?

Because she’d rejected Ken’s advances, was he planning to make her work life even more miserable?

If so, what would that mean?

She tried to force the questions away while putting together a time line relating to a customer who’d been injured in a fall and was suing a department store. It would take most of the afternoon, and as she began to jot down notes, she observed that her entire profession was part of a giant
game
in which the
object
was to amass billable hours, making attorneys the only guaranteed winners.

It was a cynical view, but how else could she explain how she was always so busy despite the fact that justice was anything but swift? She was still working on cases that had been initially filed years ago, and the case Barney had just assigned her had no chance of reaching the courtroom for at least eighteen months. And that’s if things went smoothly, which was virtually impossible, since things never went smoothly. So why did Barney need the time line by tomorrow? What was so urgent?

At the back of her mind, she kept picturing Ken as he’d watched her. She wasn’t going to let him blindside her again if he dropped by to supposedly discuss her
career
. She decided to keep her office door wide open even though the ambient office noise tended to distract her. That way, if Ken did decide to pay her a visit, she’d have a few extra seconds to prepare.

From her window, it was possible to see Ken’s parking spot. Predictably, the man drove a red Corvette, and at one thirty on the dot, he pulled in. She half expected him to drop by as soon as he entered the building, but to her relief, he didn’t appear. Nor did he swing by later, even to visit the paralegals. When he remained a no-show at five, she reminded herself not to stay late. She closed down her MacBook and gathered paper copies of her files, loading it all into her bag. Peeking out the window, she did a quick double take when she realized that Ken’s car was already gone for the day.

Whatever. Tomorrow would likely bring more surprises.

Leaving her office, she said good-bye to Jill and headed for her car. As always, she went around to the passenger-side door first so she could put her bag on the seat, but as soon as she pulled it open, she let out an inadvertent cry.

The bouquet of roses, already shriveling in the heat, was fanned neatly across the seat, as if trying to taunt her.

 

 

Colin sat across from her in her living room, his elbows on his knees. Maria had called him right after throwing the roses back into the Dumpster, and he’d been waiting at her door when she got home.

“I don’t get it,” she said, still feeling flushed and panicky. “What does Ken want?”

“You know what he wants.”

“And he thinks this is the best way to get it? By sending me flowers and a weird unsigned note? And by stuffing the roses back in my car and freaking me out?”

“I can’t answer that,” Colin said. “I think the real question is what you’re going to do about it.” He continued to hold her gaze, unmoving, but the tensing of his jaw made it clear that he was as disturbed by the whole thing as she was.

“I don’t know that there’s anything I can do. The note was unsigned and I didn’t actually watch him put the roses in my car. I can’t prove any of it.”

“And you’re positive it was Ken?”

“Who else could it be? There was no one else around.”

“Are you sure?”

She opened her mouth to reply but quickly closed it because she hadn’t even considered the alternative. Just because she hadn’t seen anyone else didn’t mean there actually had been no one else, but the idea was too frightening to contemplate.

“It’s him,” she said. “It has to be him.” But even to her own ears, it almost sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

C
olin spent the night with Maria. Though she hadn’t asked him to stay, he’d known that she hadn’t wanted him to leave. She’d been on edge most of the evening, unable to eat, and he could sense her mind drifting off. After she’d finally fallen asleep, he lay awake staring at the ceiling, trying to put the pieces together. She’d told him enough about Ken to give Colin a pretty good picture, and he’d been fighting the urge ever since to pay the man a visit. The sexual harassment was bad enough, but Ken was a bully as well, and Colin knew from his own experience that people like that didn’t stop abusing their power unless someone made them. Or put the fear of God into them.

However, Maria had made it clear that she didn’t want Colin to talk to Ken or even go anywhere near him, if only for Colin’s own good. Colin understood that: The man
was
a well-known lawyer, and even a credible threat might be enough to put Colin behind bars. He had no doubt that Margolis and the local judges would make sure of that.

Still, the situation had felt more confusing the more they’d talked about it. The note, combined with the fact that the roses had been placed in her car, felt like a
threat
. It felt
personal
, and while Ken had trouble controlling his libido and
had
been standing at the window, the rest of it didn’t add up. What was the point of the note? How had Ken known Maria would decide to throw the roses away at that moment? Or if Ken had planned to put them in the car, why had he continued to stand in the window, knowing that Maria would no doubt assume he was guilty? He had to know that scaring Maria would make it more likely that she’d report his harassment. And what if another employee in the office had noticed him retrieving the roses from the garbage and placing them in Maria’s car? Would he have been willing to take that kind of risk? Most of the offices had windows.

All of which meant…
what
? If Ken had done it, he’d slipped off the mental building ledge and was plummeting toward the ground, obviously unable to think clearly. And if it
wasn’t
Ken?

That was the question that bothered him most.

When Maria woke in the morning, Colin offered to follow her in to work, but she told him that she’d be fine. It wasn’t until he was driving back to Evan’s that he realized he was as edgy about the whole thing as she’d been the night before. Angry, even, and as soon as he got home, he tossed on his workout gear and was out the door.

He went for a run and put the music volume on high, picking up his pace until his breathing grew labored. When he finally felt drained of his anger, he experienced a slowly emerging clarity.

He’d do what Maria asked and stay away from Ken, but that didn’t mean that he was willing to sit back and do nothing.

No one was going to frighten Maria and get away with it.

 

 

“Have either of you considered calling the police?” Evan asked.

They were at the table in Evan’s kitchen, a few minutes after Colin had offered Evan the CliffsNotes version of all that had happened, including what he planned to do.

Colin shook his head. “The police won’t do anything.”

“But someone broke into her car.”

“Her car was unlocked, the windows were open, nothing was taken, and there was no damage. The first thing they’ll ask is, what’s the crime? And then they’ll ask who did it, and all she’ll be able to offer is her opinions.”

“What about the message? Aren’t there stalking laws?”

“The note is weird, but there’s no clear threat. And there’s no proof that the person who sent the flowers was the same person who put them in her car.”

“I sometimes forget that you’ve had a lot of experience in this area. But I’m still not sure why you think you need to take care of it.”

“I don’t need to do it. I want to.”

“And what if Maria doesn’t like your plan?” When Colin didn’t answer, Evan waved a hand. “Because you plan on telling her, right? Since you’re all about honesty?”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, I’ll tell her.”

“When?”

“Today.”

“And if she asks you not to?”

When Colin didn’t answer, Evan sat up straighter.

“You’ll do it anyway. Because you’ve already made your decision, am I correct?”

“I want to know what’s going on.”

“You do know that this is what you’ve done in the past, right? Do whatever the hell you want, your future be damned?”

“I’m making phone calls. I’ll talk to people.” Colin shrugged. “It’s not illegal.”

“No argument there. But I’m talking about what you might decide to do afterwards.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?”

When Colin didn’t respond right away, Evan leaned back in his seat. “Did I tell you that Lily wants the four of us to go out together this weekend?”

“No.”

“She was thinking Saturday night. She wants to meet Maria.”

“Okay.”

“Shouldn’t you check with Maria first?”

“I’ll talk to her, but I’m sure she’ll be fine with it. What are you thinking about doing?”

“Dinner. And then afterwards, we’ll find someplace fun. I think all those lessons put her in the mood to go dancing.”

“Salsa dancing?”

“She says I don’t have the rhythm for it. It’ll be some other kind of dancing.”

“At a club?”

“Since you obviously escaped without trouble last time, Lily’s of the opinion that you can do it again.”

“Okay.”

“I have another question, though.” Colin waited as Evan stared across the table at him. “What happens if you do find the guy?”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Even if it’s her boss?” When Colin didn’t answer, Evan shook his head. “I knew I was right.”

“Right about what?”

“You don’t have the slightest idea what you’re getting into.”

 

 

While Colin understood that Evan was worried, he didn’t think his concern was justified. How hard could it be to figure out whether Ken sent the roses? All it would take was a few phone calls, some pointed questions, and a photo… Lord knows he’d been on the receiving end of countless interrogations, and he knew that getting answers was often about presence and expectation and sounding official. Most people wanted to talk; most people couldn’t shut up, even when it was in their best interest. He figured that if he was lucky, he’d have his answer by midafternoon.

In the kitchen back at his place, he opened his computer and did a quick search for Ken Martenson. Not hard to find – the guy was even more connected than Colin expected – but there were fewer photos than he’d thought there would be, and none were what he really wanted; too far away, too blurry. Even the photo on the firm website had to be at least ten years old – at the time, Ken had a goatee, which altered his appearance to a significant degree. Colin would have to take his own photo, he decided. Except he didn’t have a high-quality camera with a telephoto lens. He doubted whether Evan had a decent camera, either; Evan wouldn’t have spent the money. The guy was tighter than a tick.

But Maria had one.

He called her cell and left a message asking if she was free for lunch. By the time she texted him back to see whether he could meet at half past noon, he was in class. But as he read her text, the professor droning on in the background, he realized that he’d been holding more tension in his neck than he’d noticed.

He forced himself to take deep, steady breaths.

 

 

“You want to borrow my camera?”

They were seated on the outdoor patio of a small café, waiting for their food to arrive. Though Colin hadn’t eaten since the night before, he wasn’t hungry.

“Yes.” Colin nodded.

“Why?”

“I need a photo of Ken.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“The only way to know for sure who ordered the flowers is to find the florist. I can then show the florist the photo and ask if he’s the one who bought them.”

“What if he ordered by phone?”

“If he paid with a credit card, I’ll get the name.”

“They won’t give it to you.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’d still like to borrow your camera.”

Maria debated before shaking her head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, he’s my boss. He also knows what you look like, and if he sees you, it’s only going to get worse for me around there. Besides, I saw Ken this morning and I have the sense it’s already over.”

“You saw him?”

“He came to talk to Barney and me about one of our cases first thing in the morning. To let us know he’d heard that it was finally on the docket.”

“You didn’t mention that when I called…”

“I didn’t know I had to.”

He caught the first hint of frustration creeping into her tone.

“How did he act?”

“It was fine,” she stated. “He was normal.”

“And you weren’t bothered when he showed up?”

“Of course I was. My heart practically jumped out of my chest, but what could I do? Barney was right there. But Ken didn’t try to talk to me alone, and he didn’t spend any time with the paralegals, either. He was all business.”

Colin clasped his hands together beneath the table. “With or without your camera, I’m going to find out who sent you the flowers.”

“I don’t need you to solve my problems, Colin.”

“I know.”

“Then why are we still talking about this?”

Colin kept his expression steady. “Because you still don’t know with any certainty that Ken was the one who did it. You’re making an assumption.”

“It’s not an assumption.”

“Would it be so wrong to make sure?”