He is Watching (PAPERBACK)

Chapter One

A cascade of photographs tumbled across the computer screen, interrupting the design Julie Roy had been working on.
Pictures of her.
Images of her at home in her apartment, a favorite coffee shop, the grocery store, in her car, and at work, sitting at her desk exactly as she was now.
The pencil clenched in her hand snapped in half. Heart racing, Julie peered over the short wall of her cubicle and scanned the entire room. A few dozen similar workspaces filled the center of the large open area with management offices lining the perimeter. A couple of people mingled near a tall, fake, potted plant. Most stared down at their desks or computer screens. No one appeared to be paying her any attention.
A phone rang. A metal drawer clanged shut. A stapler clicked in the cubicle next door. The sounds were like symbols clashing together in her head. Harsh breaths beat a staccato of sound as panic overwhelmed her.
Rolling the desk-chair forward, Julie slapped at the power button to shut down the computer. The screen cleared and darkened to black, but the invasive images remained burned into her mind.
Her stalker was back.
Julie snatched up her cellphone to call the police but dropped it into her lap as tears pricked the backs of her eyelids. What was the point? She’d reported each incident of pictures in her mailbox, slipped under her door, and under the windshield wipers on her car. They had no leads. They’d been courteous, but less than encouraging about finding the person responsible.
Evidently, she didn’t rank high enough on their priority list for the cops to get out and actually look for the stalker.
Jerking to a standing position, she jumped when her chair rolled back and hit the wall. Her gaze darted around the room. Megan, one of her coworkers, gave her a hesitant smile before turning back to her work. Julie grabbed her worn, brown, leather backpack from the floor while repeatedly casting her gaze around the room. Could it be someone here at work? Watching her right now?
Other than a quick glance, everyone ignored her and focused on their own workstations. She slipped her drawing tablet and paperwork for her current project into her backpack and stuffed her cellphone into the side pocket. Julie slung the pack over her shoulder and searched the room one last time.
She had to get out of here.
She sidestepped a co-worker as she strode to the elevator and kept her gaze glued to the floor. Pushing the button repeatedly, she swung around with her back to the door and watched everyone in the room. The elevator pinged its arrival at her floor. Julie jumped, and her breath caught in her throat. She peeked over her shoulder as the doors opened into the empty silver box. Sighing in relief at finding no occupants, she stepped in and pushed the button for the parking garage. Normally she took the stairs because of a mild case of claustrophobia, but today the lack of multiple exits and opportunities of someone lurking in wait superseded her fear of small enclosed spaces.
The doors began to slide closed, but a hand sliced between them, forcing the doors to open wide. Gripping the strap of her backpack in her fist, she held her breath.
Jack, a co-worker, stepped inside and nodded in her direction before leaning against the back wall.
The breath left her lungs in a whoosh, drawing his gaze. Her stalker couldn’t be Jack. She’d known him for a few years, since she started working here. She had even set him up with her friend Diane. They’d only gone on a couple of dates before both moving on, but it ended amicably. It couldn’t be him, could it?
“Bit early for a lunch break, isn’t it?” Lunch break?
He signaled to the instrument panel and the highlighted garage button she had pushed.
Yeah, it was a little early, but she couldn’t stay here another minute, and eating lunch was the last thing on her mind.
Julie shrugged her shoulders. Let him think what he wanted.
Wait. Where was he going? He hadn’t pushed a button when he entered the elevator.
She stared at him nonchalantly slouching against the wall. His dark brown hair was a bit long and overdue for a trim. Jack’s dark gaze glanced up from the phone in his hand to the illuminated numbers of the floors above the doors and then to her. His eyes narrowed.
“You sick or something?”
“You didn’t push a button. Are you going to the garage?” If he was, she certainly wasn’t.
“Oops.” Jack stepped forward and pushed the button for the second floor. Human Resources was on that floor. Should she report the pictures on her computer screen?
Yes, probably, but it would have to be by phone. She needed out of this building now.
“So, what’s up with you? Sick or not? You look pale.”
Should she claim an illness? She certainly had physical symptoms. Her head was pounding. Her stomach churned.
“You ever figure out who was sending you pictures a while back?”
Julie’s throat closed. She wedged herself farther into the corner and clenched the handrail.
How did he know about the pictures? Why was he mentioning them now? Was it him?
“Diane said they really spooked you.” Of course, Diane. She knew about them.
Julie cleared her throat. “I didn’t realize you and Diane still talked.” Diane hadn’t said anything about him, but then again, Julie hadn’t talked to her in weeks. Or anyone else.
“We hang out once in a while.”
He stared at her expectantly, so she nodded.
“Who was it?”
“What?”
“The pics? You know who it was?”
“Oh, no, I don’t, but the police are looking into it.”
“The police? For some pictures? A bit of an overkill, isn’t it? I mean, they’re probably from some guy crushing on you.”
The elevator stopped and opened on Jack’s floor. He stepped out and glanced back at her as the doors closed.
He thought she was overreacting. Or did he say that because it was him and he was trying to minimalize what happened and throw her off? Jack had never acted interested in her. He never flirted, and he wasn’t the shy type so if he had been interested, he would have shown it or flat out asked her out on a date.
Was she overreacting?
She couldn’t tell anymore. All she knew was her entire body was telling her to flee.
When the elevator arrived at the underground garage, she leaned her head out the open doors, searching in every direction for anything out of the ordinary. The wide, round, cement pillars and rows of vehicles became suspected hiding places. The elevator door alarm sounded. Lurching forward, she stumbled over the threshold. A car started. A door slammed.
Not caring what anyone might think, she sprinted to her little green sedan three rows away. Gripping her keys in her tightened fist, she stabbed at the lock on her car door frantically until it finally slipped in. Julie yanked open the door and jumped into the seat, slapping down the lock switch.
Her heart pounded, the sound drumming in her ears. Hyperventilating, she clutched the backpack to her chest.
What was she going to do? No way could she sit around waiting for her stalker to slip up and get caught or no longer be content by terrorizing her with pictures.
Maybe then she would become a priority for the police. Assault and battery case? Sure, move on up the list. Rape? Murder? Ding, ding, ding, congratulations, you’ve now reached the top of the pile.
Dropping her forehead to the steering wheel, Julie clenched her eyes shut. She needed to escape. Quality sleep had eluded her for months. Fear and panic had moved in and taken over her life. She’d overslept this morning, so instead of riding the T to work, she’d driven.
One thing she could be thankful for. Standing and waiting for the T to arrive while people surrounded her was the last thing she could endure.
She tossed the backpack onto the passenger seat, put on the seatbelt, and shoved the key into the ignition. A day or more out of the city might clear her thinking. She would tell no one her destination, or even that she was leaving. Sadly, only her coworkers or boss were likely to notice her absence. She had become a hermit over the last six months. Shutting herself off from friends hadn’t been intentional, but socializing and going out had become too scary to handle.
On the way to her apartment building, she thought of and discarded a dozen different destinations. She and her parents weren’t particularly close. They spoke a few times a year around the holidays and birthdays, but that was all. They had always lived their own lives, never knowing what to do with the surprise-late-life-baby who had burst into their well-ordered world. Julie had no siblings or other close relatives.
Approaching her building, she searched for an empty parking space. It was always a gamble whether she would be lucky enough to find one within a few blocks of her apartment. It being the middle of the day worked in her favor, and she spotted an opening. After parking, she remained in the seat for several moments. Cars sped by, people hustled down the sidewalk, customers entered and exited the fast-food place and convenience store across the street. No one appeared to glance in her direction.
Julie grabbed her backpack and jumped out of the car. A garbage truck drove by, dragging with it the stench of decay. She jogged down the sidewalk to her building. Not meeting anyone on the stairs, she held her keys at the ready and jammed them into the locks of her door while her gaze darted over her shoulder. The door swung closed with a shove, and she flipped the locks closed and slid the chain across. The locks shown with polished brightness as only new metal could. She had replaced the aging original lock and chain and added two more after the first onslaught of pictures arrived.
Leaning back against the locked door, her gaze searched the small one-bedroom apartment. A small kitchenette occupied the corner with yesterday’s and this morning’s dishes piled in the tiny stainless-steel sink. Housework hardly topped her list of fun activities, but lately exhaustion prevented her from caring about dirty dishes. The overstuffed, secondhand, navy couch and recliner she’d acquired from a college roommate when they’d left without paying their share of the rent took up the remainder of the room.
Her roommate, Carla, had combed through Julie’s belongings, purloining anything she coveted for herself on a regular basis. Not paying the rent or helping with any of the cleaning chores had been the last straw. She had confronted Carla, whose volatile response ended in her throwing a mug and several dishes at Julie’s head. When she had come home from work the next day, her roommate was gone. She’d downsized to this one bedroom after that fiasco and vowed to have no more roommates.
Once this had been her haven, her first home all her own to do with as she pleased, but now she realized safety was an illusion. Someone had been inside her apartment and had taken pictures of her unaware. The police hadn’t found a hidden camera, but how else had the pictures been captured?
They hadn’t searched hard enough.
Julie dragged a wooden stool across the floor to the wall separating her bedroom from the living space. It scraped against the hardwood floor, making her cringe over the obnoxious screech. She peered into the narrow air vent, searching for a hidden camera.
Nothing.
Leaning her forehead against the wall, she swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked away the threatening tears. She didn’t know if she was disappointed there wasn’t a camera or terrified someone had been inside her apartment taking the pictures when she wasn’t home.
Oh God! What if she had been home at the time, sleeping or showering? Could they have been inside watching her?
Sprinting into her bedroom, she started shoving clothes into her backpack. Suitcases alerted anyone watching of her intention to flee. She paused, biting her lip. Her rent was paid through the month. Thankfully, her bank gave her the ability to pay any remaining bills online. She remembered hearing somewhere credit cards were traceable, so she needed to stop at the ATM and get as much cash as they allowed her to withdraw.
She slipped a sketchbook and an assortment of pencils into her backpack. Julie went nowhere without drawing supplies. Grabbing toiletries from the bathroom, she crammed them into the last usable space in her bag and latched the top.
Her skin crawled as she remembered the picture of her lying on her couch. He’d tainted everything here. How had it been taken? From where? Were they watching her even now?
Perspiration dampened her skin. Every instinct she had was telling her to run. Hoisting the backpack over her shoulder, she left the apartment without looking back. She didn’t know when or if she would return. She only knew she couldn’t stay here.