CHAPTER 19: Colin

CHAPTER 19

Colin

Since he’d started college, Colin had never missed a single class, let alone a whole day’s worth. Only once had he come close—a day when his car hadn’t started, and he’d hiked to school carrying a backpack loaded with textbooks, arriving just minutes before class had begun.

Therefore, today was a first. As soon as Maria had called, he’d raced to her place; he’d read the note, and while Maria had called Margolis, he’d called a tow truck with a flatbed, since her car was essentially resting on its rims. While they waited for the tow truck to arrive, Colin made Maria a cup of tea, but she was only able to take a couple of sips before pushing the cup away.

The tow truck came; once it was gone, Colin drove her to the police station. Maria offered her name to the officer at the front counter and she and Colin took a seat in the small lobby, noting the steady but unhurried rhythm of the station. Maria took the opportunity to leave a message for Barney, informing him that she wouldn’t be in for a while. Margolis, no doubt, was already somewhere in the station, probably buried in paperwork from weekend incidents. As a detective, he dealt with significant crimes, and he was probably regretting the fact that he’d challenged Maria to call him if she ever wanted to make a simple report. Stalking—if what was happening to Maria officially rose to that level—was below his pay grade, and the fact that Colin was with Maria no doubt made the whole thing even more irritating for him. He made them wait nearly ninety minutes before finally showing up carrying a manila file. While he shook Maria’s hand, he didn’t offer his to Colin, and Colin wouldn’t have shaken it if he had. No reason to pretend they liked each other.

Margolis asked to speak with Maria alone; Maria insisted that Colin be present. Radiating disapproval, Margolis nodded and led the three of them to one of the interrogation rooms. Having spent time in a number of police stations over the years, Colin knew that on a busy morning, the interrogation room was one of the few places with any privacy whatsoever. Nice of him, even if he is generally an ass, Colin thought. After closing the door and seating them at the table, Margolis set aside the file he’d been holding, asked a series of general questions—Maria’s name, age, address, and the like—and began filling in the report. After that, Maria—in a shaky but surprisingly linear fashion—went through the same story she’d told Colin on the beach about Cassie Manning and Gerald Laws, as well as what had been happening to her recently. She sketched out the parallels before finally handing Margolis the letter she had found on the windshield.

Margolis read the letter slowly, saying nothing, before finally asking if he could make a copy. When she agreed, he rose from his seat and left the room, returning with a copy.

Margolis nodded and made another note. “Was this in the first batch of notes, or the second batch?”

Margolis scanned his notes. “Avery Manning said that it may have been Cassie’s boyfriend.”

Margolis made another note. “Do you remember his name? Or how he met Cassie?”

Maria pursed her lips. “I think it was Mike or Matt or Mark… something like that. And no, I don’t know how he met Cassie. But why are we even talking about him? Lester is the one who’s been stalking me! Just like he wrote those notes in Charlotte!”

Maria shook her head, her frustration surfacing. “I threw them away when I moved here. I didn’t want anything to do with them. The Charlotte police might still have a couple of them, but I can’t be certain about that.”

Margolis tapped his pen on the report in front of him. “Okay. Let’s say it is Lester. When you say his notes were threatening, what do you mean? Did he say he was going to hurt you in any way? Or harm you?”

Colin turned toward her, realizing that he hadn’t heard Maria talk about them in much detail.

Margolis continued to jot notes as she talked. “Now let’s talk about Lester. What was he like?”

Margolis twirled the pen before reaching for the file he’d originally brought into the room. “After you called, I had the Charlotte police e-mail the report about Cassie Manning’s death; I’m still waiting on the report on Laws’s initial arrest. I haven’t really had the chance to dig through it all in detail, but from what I did read, it’s clear that Gerald Laws killed Cassie Manning. Furthermore, you didn’t make the decision that allowed him to plead to a misdemeanor in the first place. It was your boss—am I correct?”

Margolis nodded. “Okay. Let’s say you’re right about all of this, and that Lester Manning is indeed responsible for everything that’s been happening to you.” He leaned back in his chair. “Even then, I’m not sure that there’s anything I can do.”

Margolis raised an eyebrow. “All right, Miss Former Prosecutor. But if he denied writing the notes once, he’ll just deny it again. And then what?”

Margolis shrugged. “You made an accusation before and the father threatened to sue you and the police. Now you’re accusing him again. It’s possible that he could make a claim for harassment against you.”

Margolis leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. “I’ve taken your statement and the report will now be on file. I told you I would talk to him, assuming I can find him, or that someone else will. I’ll review the files on Laws’s arrest and Cassie’s death. And I’ll find out what I can learn about Lester Manning. I’ll talk with the Charlotte police and have them check whether the old notes are in a file somewhere. Considering you’ve offered me nothing whatsoever in the way of proof that you’ve been threatened at all—and taking into account your questionable judgment in choosing a boyfriend—I’d say that’s more than enough, wouldn’t you?”

Maria’s face was a mask. “What about a restraining order?”

It was the first time that Colin had heard her link Copo’s death to everything else that had occurred, and her obvious fear made something coil inside him.

This was going to stop. Let Margolis do whatever he was going to do, but right now, that wasn’t good enough for Colin. It was time, he thought, for someone to find out just what Lester was up to these days.

After he dropped Maria off at work, Colin popped in his earbuds, put on some music, and perched himself in front of the computer at his desk.

Lester Manning.

Proof or not, having a name helped to focus his thoughts, and he wanted to find out as much as he could about the man.

The only problem was that without easy access to government databases or official records, there wasn’t much he could do. There were no listings in the white pages for anyone named Lester Manning in North Carolina, nor could he find a cell number. There were two Lester Mannings on Facebook; one was listed as living in Aurora, Colorado, and the other in Madison, Wisconsin; the first a teenager, the second a man in his forties. Instagram, Twitter, and Snapchat turned up nothing, nor did a general Google search using the name and the city of Charlotte in various permutations.

There were a few sites that held out the promise of more information—phone number, most recent address, and the like—for a fee, and after debating, he typed in his credit card number and gave it a whirl. Thankfully, an address popped up in Charlotte.

There was a little more on Avery Manning, including a phone number in Charlotte listing an Avery Manning, MD, along with the same address he’d found for Lester.

Father and son living together?

Or outdated information?

There were also a few short articles on the father. The most recent one confirmed Maria’s recollection that Manning had had his license suspended for eighteen months, apparently for improper care of a number of patients. The most prominent case involved a young man who’d committed suicide. According to the article, Manning failed to properly diagnose the patient’s attention-deficit disorder and monitor his use of Adderall. Other patients claimed that they simply got worse under his care. If the date of the suspension was accurate, then Avery Manning still wasn’t able to practice.

Interesting.

There was a photograph, too: a man in his midfifties, with thin blond hair and light blue eyes staring out of an angular, almost bony face; to Colin, he could have passed for a washed-out gravedigger. Colin couldn’t imagine sitting across from the guy for an hour, spilling his guts and hoping for empathy.

Another article mentioned Manning’s work with prison inmates. The article quoted Manning as saying that many prisoners were sociopaths and beyond practical rehabilitation. Humane incarceration, he said, was the most pragmatic solution to criminal pathology. Other than commenting that Manning considered himself an expert on criminal behavior, Maria hadn’t mentioned his work in prisons, and he wondered whether she had even known about it.

A little more research eventually brought up the obituary for Eleanor Manning, which said nothing about suicide, but that wasn’t surprising. Most people didn’t want that fact made public. It also noted that she’d been a mother of three, and was survived by her husband and son. Cassie he’d heard about, but there was another sibling?

He reviewed half a dozen articles on Avery Manning before finding the answer; in an interview on the subject of depression, Avery noted that his wife had battled depression ever since their son Alexander Charles Manning had died in an automobile accident when he was six.

Alex. Cassie. Eleanor.

So much tragedy for one family. And Lester blamed Maria for one, maybe even two of the deaths.

Enough to make Lester torment and terrify her?

Yes. The original notes made that plain. As did the pattern.

Chronologically or not, Maria was experiencing the same fears that Cassie had. And like Maria, Colin knew how the rest of Cassie’s story unfolded.

After he got out of prison, Laws met Cassie face-to-face.

Cassie filed a restraining order.

The police couldn’t find Laws.

In the end, Cassie was abducted and murdered.

Was that part of Lester’s plan as well?

It was a massive jump to go from what had happened to Maria so far to the final step. Tormenting was one thing, murder was another, and he didn’t know enough about Lester to try to guess what he might do. That didn’t mean, however, that Maria should take any chances.

He spent another hour without learning anything more. So much for the easy part—information that anyone could find—and he wondered about his next step.

What did he know about Lester? And what could he assume?

Lester had a car. Or had use of a car.

Not a big assumption, of course, but he wondered what kind of information he could find if he had a license plate number. A few keywords into the search engine turned up a couple of companies with access to all kinds of public records, including car registrations and license plate numbers. It was a bit expensive, but it just might be helpful, and he made note of the websites in case the need arose.

Anything else?

Yes, he thought. If he was correct in his assumption, Lester had hidden on the roof across the street when Maria was at work. As for her condo, it would have been easy for Lester to watch her as she came and went, if only because her schedule was predictable. He wouldn’t have had to camp out for hours; he could have observed her from the coffee shop across the street or from a parked car. Following her to the restaurant and the nightclub would have been a piece of cake.

And?

Based on the meeting with Margolis, Colin needed proof that Lester was stalking Maria, and he wondered if he should drive to Charlotte in the hopes of putting a face to a name. Maybe even get a photograph, assuming he could find Lester. But then again, even that might not be enough. The florist had admitted he hadn’t gotten a good look at the guy, and Colin doubted the waitress would recognize him. Even Maria hadn’t recognized him up close.

And finally, there was Copo. The dog’s death also fit with the pattern, and the more he thought about it, the more probable it seemed that Lester had killed Copo to hurt Maria and her family. Because he’d been following Maria, he’d know where her parents lived. But more than that, it also meant that he’d watched the family regularly. How else would he have known that Copo had been left behind at the house? Maria had said that Felix brought Copo everywhere, even to the restaurant. That her parents rarely left the dog at home.

But how?

The Sanchez backyard had a privacy fence, and in a tight-knit suburb, a lurking stranger would have been noticed.

How indeed.

Twenty minutes later, he was driving through the Sanchez neighborhood, trying to piece it together.

Her parents’ house was quiet, apparently no one at home. There were, however, others out and about. A woman jogging on the sidewalk; an elderly man pruning the bushes in his front yard. A man pulling out of his driveway, heading somewhere.

Colin turned at the corner, then turned again, heading down the street that ran parallel to the Sanchezes’ street, backyards bumping up against each other.

The neighborhood was bustling, the kind of community where people probably watched out for each other.

Lester definitely would have been noticed.

Unless…

He slowed the car as he approached the houses that backed up to the Sanchez place, and the answer became clear.

The house directly behind Maria’s parents’ home was for sale.

More than that, it appeared to be vacant.

Maria was reserved when he picked her up from work that evening, and their conversation was desultory. It was clear that she wanted to avoid talking about Lester or Margolis.

She wanted to spend the night at her parents’, so he drove her home and waited outside while she packed an overnight bag. Next, he drove her to pick up her car at the tire shop, waiting until Maria was on her way before finally exiting the parking lot. He’d wanted to follow her, but thinking it would only make her more nervous, he asked her instead to text him when she reached her parents’ place. Fifteen minutes later, she let him know that she’d arrived.

Though she said nothing, he guessed she’d spent the drive to her parents’ house repeatedly glancing in the rearview mirror, wondering if Lester was following her.

Colin waited until after midnight to return to the neighborhood, his mind on Lester Manning.

Dressed in black, he’d parked a few blocks away and approached the vacant house. In his backpack he carried a small flashlight, a couple of screwdrivers, and a small crowbar. Still, if Lester had been inside the house multiple times—and unless he was an expert in picking locks or had a key—then Colin guessed he’d be able to get in through the same window or door that Lester had used. The entry point might still be unlocked; unless the Realtor had noticed it, there would have been no way for Lester to relock it once he’d left.

Colin just had to find it.

And if Lester happened to be there tonight, having realized that Maria wasn’t at her condo?

As much as Colin itched to exact punishment, he’d call Margolis. Maybe they could charge Lester with trespassing, maybe even breaking and entering, in addition to stalking.

The street was quiet and empty. On either side of him, through gaps in the curtains of the nearby houses, he saw the occasional television flickering, but he suspected most people had turned in for the night.

He reached the vacant house and a quick check of the front door showed a lockbox on the doorknob, courtesy of the Realtor. There were no partially open windows on the porch, nor any pry marks. He went around to the side of the house and noiselessly hoisted himself over the fence, into the backyard. With the flashlight, he inspected the windows one by one, hunting for a small gap or pry marks.

It wasn’t until he reached the opposite side of the house that he found it.

A bedroom window, five feet up, nearly but not fully closed. Pry marks on the frame, no doubt used to take off the screen. Easy for Colin to climb through, despite the distance from the ground, but for Lester? He scanned the yard and spotted an old plastic picnic table set, made for children. Based on four imprints of flattened, yellowing grass, the table from the set had been moved recently.

Bingo.

Using the screwdriver, he popped the screen off, then wedged the window open a bit farther before pushing it wide with his hands.

With a quick jump and climb, he was inside.

He walked through the darkened house, observing that the floor plan was similar to Maria’s parents’ house, with windows in the kitchen and a family room offering an unobstructed view of the Sanchezes’ back porch. But the view was almost too perfect, facing both ways, and Colin knew that Lester wouldn’t have wanted to be spotted.

Which left only one possibility.

Colin traversed the short hallway, turning into the only bedroom on the rear side of the house. Unlike the ones in the kitchen and family room, the window that offered a view of the Sanchezes’ back porch had curtains. Turning his flashlight on, he scanned the pile carpet.

Indentations near the window. Footprints.

Lester Manning had been here.

And there was also the chance that he might return.

It wasn’t until he was driving home that Colin realized he’d overlooked something important.

Where had Lester parked?

It struck him as unlikely that he would have parked in the driveway of the vacant house, or on the street in front of someone’s home. It was too noticeable, especially since many people wanted to park their own cars in front of their houses. At the same time, Lester probably wouldn’t have wanted to park too far away.

Turning around, Colin drove back through the neighborhood, not sure what he hoped to find, until he came upon a park that included a grassy field, a jungle gym, and benches stationed beneath oak trees. On the opposite side of the street, ten or twelve cars were lined up; adjacent to the park were seven more. The lateness of the hour suggested that they belonged to the people who lived across the street, owners with multiple cars and nowhere else to park.

However, another car here would be more likely to go unnoticed—ideal for Lester—and he was sure he was right. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he snapped photos of the cars, along with their license plates. He wanted to know which ones belonged. And as he did, his thoughts began to coalesce.

He wanted to know what Lester looked like.

He wanted to find Lester’s car and license plate.

He wanted to know whether Lester was staying in the area, and if so, where.

Then, after that, he wanted to spend a few days watching and learning everything he could about the man.

Evan was quiet for a moment. “I still think it would be a better idea if you just let Margolis do his job.”

Colin nodded. “Okay.”

After a few hours of sleep, Colin was back in the Sanchezes’ neighborhood with a notebook the following day. He’d parked a few blocks away and headed to the park, exercising on a floor mat he’d brought from home while he waited.

It was early, the sun not yet up, and all the cars he’d seen a few hours earlier were still there.

It was more than an hour before the first person emerged from one of the houses, hopped into a car, and drove off. Colin jotted the make, model, and color in the notebook. There was a flurry of activity at half past seven, and another flurry forty-five minutes later. Two more people claimed their cars as Colin was getting ready to leave for class, leaving only a single red car—a two-door Hyundai—adjacent to the park, and another two on the opposite side of the street.

Probably nothing, but he nonetheless noted the information.

On his way out, he detoured down the street with the vacant house. The street was empty, and he decided to risk it. Pulling over a few houses down, he headed for the house before cutting toward the fence.

Peeking over, he saw that the plastic picnic table was exactly where it had been hours earlier; the window, too, appeared to be untouched. If Lester wasn’t here, then the three remaining cars weren’t likely his. Call it 99 percent certain.

In class, he found himself only mildly interested in what the professors were saying and struggled to take proper notes. Instead, he wondered whether he should head to Lester Manning’s last known address in Charlotte or continue to stake out the vacant house. Or, if Maria slept at her place, whether he should watch for Lester there.

All good options, but it was impossible to be in three places at once.

What if he chose wrong?

His mind continued to circle the problem.

After leaving campus, he returned to the Sanchezes’ neighborhood. The red Hyundai parked adjacent to the park was still there, while the two others across the street were gone.

The lonely car seemed out of place. Again, on his way out, he stopped at the vacant house and peeked over the fence. No change.

Lester wasn’t in the vacant house. Which made sense. Neither Maria nor her family were home.

He decided to stay as close as possible to Maria for the next few days. If Lester was still determined to exact his revenge, he would eventually find her, wherever she was. And wherever she planned to be, that’s where Colin needed to be as well.

He called and invited her to dinner; on the phone, she was a little better than she had been the day before, but still tense. He picked her up at her place after work and drove her to a bistro near the beach, where they could hear the soothing sound of the waves.

Again, she avoided any talk of Lester or Margolis; instead, she focused on her and Jill’s plans for the new firm. Talking about the new venture, along with a couple of glasses of wine, was enough of a distraction to raise her spirits.

Returning to Colin’s place, they chatted with Evan and Lily before Maria finally reached for Colin’s hand. Despite her relative calm, it had been clear to him all evening that Maria had no desire to return to her condo.

Colin checked the vacant house on Wednesday morning, making sure to swing by the park and continuing to note the comings and goings of parked cars. Just as he was beginning to think that Lester had either abandoned the viewing post of the house or parked his car elsewhere, Wednesday evening brought a change in that the red Hyundai adjacent to the park was gone.

Perhaps it was nothing, but it was time, he thought, to check the license plate, which ended up being a waste of time.

Like the others, it belonged to one of the homeowners.

On Thursday morning, Colin and Maria were having a breakfast of egg whites, oatmeal, and fruit at his place. She told him she was having dinner with Jill and Leslie and then planned to spend the night at her parents’ house.

He smiled. “Okay. Have you heard from Margolis?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. And I’m not sure if that’s good news or bad news.”

Colin nodded, acknowledging that he’d been thinking the same thing. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, however, so he switched topics. “Tomorrow’s the big day.”

She shrugged. “Hard to say. It’s not as bad as it was last week, but it’s still gloomy. Work is piling up, and I’m hearing whispers that more people are thinking about leaving. It’s one rumor after another. Yesterday, there was a rumor that the firm was close to settling the whole thing—with all the plaintiffs—but that’s probably just wishful thinking. If you read the EEOC complaints, Ken was a lot worse than even I thought he was.”

She laughed. “He’s still not so sure about you. Because of your past, I mean.”

As can I.