CHAPTER 20
Maria
Maria kissed Colin good-bye on his doorstep; though he’d offered to follow her to the office as he had all week, she told him that she’d be fine and to go on and head to his classes. In the instant she’d said it, she’d believed it, but as she drove to work she nonetheless found herself wondering whether Lester might be following her. For the first time since she’d moved from Charlotte, she felt her heart beginning to race for no reason whatsoever. Within seconds, it became harder to breathe and her vision began to narrow.
Instinct took over and she was somehow able to pull the car to the side of the road, feeling her body suddenly go haywire.
Tightness in her chest.
Oh my God…
This wasn’t normal.
She couldn’t breathe.
Her vision continued to narrow and her thoughts began to slip.
She was having a heart attack and needed an ambulance.
She was going to die on the side of the road.
Her phone began to ring, but she only vaguely heard it sound half a dozen times before it went silent. It dinged a moment later, someone texting.
The muscles in her chest tightened.
She couldn’t get enough air.
Her heart continued to pound and terror set in, feeding on the knowledge that she was going to die.
She rested her head against the steering wheel, waiting for the end.
But it didn’t come.
Instead, she simply continued to die little by little over the next few minutes, until she was no longer dying at all.
In time, she was able to lift her head from the steering wheel. Her breathing eased and her peripheral vision was returning. Her heart still pounded, but it felt less intense.
A few minutes later, she began to feel better. Still shaky, but better, and though it seemed impossible, she understood that she hadn’t been having a heart attack.
Instead, she knew her panic attacks had returned.
It was another half hour before she felt completely normal, and by then she was already in her office. Barney wasn’t around, but he’d left a new matter for her—the regional hospital was being sued by a family over an infection called pseudomonas that had eventually led to a patient’s death—along with a hastily scrawled note asking her to get started on finding the appropriate legal decisions necessary to bolster their defense.
She was pondering the entry point for her research when her cell phone rang. She glanced at it, then looked closer, making sure she hadn’t been mistaken. Serena?
She pressed the button, connecting the call. “Hey,” she said, “what’s up?”
“Are you okay?”
“Why?”
“I called earlier but you didn’t answer,” Serena chirped.
“Sorry,” Maria said, thinking back on the panic attack. “I was in the car.” The truth, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. She wondered what Colin would think about that.
“How goes it with the investigation?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Have you called Margolis?”
“If I don’t hear from him today, I will.”
“I probably would have called already.”
“I’m sure. So… what’s up?”
“What do you mean?”
“You never call me this early. And why aren’t you in class?”
“It starts in a few minutes, but I just had to tell someone. I got an e-mail last night, and it turns out that I’m one of the three finalists for the scholarship. I guess the dinner at Mom and Dad’s must have had a positive influence… Though the e-mail didn’t exactly say it directly, I think I might actually be in the pole position.”
“Pole position?”
“Yeah. You know, when they restart a race following a wreck or whatever, that’s the car in the first position.”
“I know what it is. I’m just curious how you know what it is.”
“Steve watches a lot of NASCAR. He makes me watch it, too.”
“So it’s really a relationship now?”
“I don’t know… there’s this really cute guy in one of my classes. He’s a little older though, and he’s dating my sister, so that might be a problem.”
“That is a problem.”
“I’m just glad you put your ego aside and went to talk to him.”
“It had nothing to do with my ego.”
“Ego, close encounter at a bar fight, same thing.”
“You’re insane, do you know that?”
“Sometimes,” Serena admitted. “But it’s worked out so far.”
Maria laughed. “That’s great news,” she said. “About the scholarship, I mean.”
“I don’t want to get too excited just yet. Don’t tell Mom or Dad.”
“I wasn’t the one who told them last time.”
“I know,” she said. “Do they still think you’ve been staying in the dorm with me?”
“Yes. And it’s my turn to say don’t tell them.”
Serena laughed. “I won’t say anything. But I’m pretty sure Mom knows that you’ve been staying with Colin. Of course, she’s operating under the don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy, which means it probably won’t come up tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah, tonight.”
“What’s tonight?”
“You’re kidding, right? Mom’s birthday? Family dinner? Don’t tell me you forgot.”
Oops. “Uh…”
“Seriously? Do you never check out my posts? Or my tweets? I know you’ve got a lot going on, but how could you forget Mom’s birthday?”
She’d have to cancel dinner with Jill and Leslie, but they’d understand, right? “I’ll be there.”
“Are you going to bring Colin?”
“He’s working. Why?”
“Because I was wondering whether to invite Steve.”
“What does one have to do with the other?”
“It’s simple. I figure that if Dad is busy glaring at Colin, he won’t be able to grill Steve, and they’ll think he’s great in comparison.”
Maria scowled. “That’s not funny.”
Serena laughed. “It’s a little funny.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“See you tonight!”
After hanging up with Serena, Maria realized she felt strangely nervous as she made her way to Jill’s office. She didn’t think Leslie would be offended—it was an honest mistake—nor did she want Leslie to question Jill’s recommendation. But when she said as much to Jill, her friend laughed aloud.
“Are you kidding? Leslie doesn’t care about that kind of stuff.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. It’s your mom’s birthday. What are you supposed to do?”
“I could have remembered in the first place.”
“There is that,” Jill noted, and Maria grimaced. Surprising her, her cell phone rang again. Thinking it was probably Serena again, she was going to ignore it before realizing that she didn’t recognize the number.
“Who is it?” Jill asked.
“I’m not sure,” Maria said. After debating for a few seconds, she took the call, praying to God that it wasn’t Lester.
“Hello?”
It wasn’t Lester. Thank God. She listened to the voice on the other end. “Yes,” Maria finally said. “I’ll be there.”
She disconnected the call but continued to hold the phone, thinking about it. Jill must have seen her expression.
“Bad news?” Jill asked.
“I’m not sure,” Maria offered, thinking it was finally time to tell her friend about her history with Lester Manning… not to mention the drama of the past couple of weeks, including the ups and downs and ups with Colin. The thought of telling everything to Jill wouldn’t have bothered her in the past, but volunteering such personal information to her future boss felt… risky, even if Jill was likely to find out anyway.
“Who was it?”
“A cop—Detective Margolis. He asked to meet me.”
“The police? What’s going on?”
“It’s kind of a long story.”
Jill stared at her before getting up from her desk and crossing the room. She closed the door and turned around.
“What’s going on?” she said.
In the end, confiding in Jill was easier than she’d imagined it would be. Future boss or not, Jill was her friend first and foremost, and more than once, she gripped Maria’s hand, clearly concerned. When Maria assured her that it wouldn’t affect her ability to help with the start-up, Jill merely shook her head.
“Right now, you have more important things to worry about,” she said. “Leslie and I can handle whatever we still have left. You need to do whatever and take whatever time you need, so that you can find a way to put this behind you for good. It’s not as though we’re going to have clients lining up in the first couple of months anyway.”
“It better not take that long. I don’t think I’d be able to handle it. I had a panic attack this morning.”
Jill was quiet for a moment. “I’ll help you any way I can. Just tell me what you need.”
Leaving Jill’s office, Maria realized again that lower salary or not, leaving to work with Jill not only had been the best option available, but already seemed to be the best career choice she’d made to that point in her life.
What it didn’t do, however, was help the rest of the morning pass more quickly. Nor did her workload; wondering what Margolis was going to say made it difficult to concentrate, which only prevented her from gaining traction on her research for the hospital suit. With her frustration beginning to rise, she set her work aside and texted Colin.
Yes, he texted back, he’d meet her at the station at a quarter past noon.
She peeked at the clock.
Then back at the claim, knowing she needed to review it closely.
Two hours until she met with Margolis.
Time inched by.
When she pulled into the lot, Colin was waiting outside the station, wearing sunglasses, shorts, and a T-shirt. She waved as she got out of her car, hoping it would hide how nervous she was but suspecting that Colin would know anyway.
He gave her a quick kiss before pulling open the door for her. Maria felt a sense of déjà vu as she glanced around. Unlike their first visit, however, Margolis didn’t keep them waiting long. They’d barely taken their seats before she saw him striding toward them from the rear of the building. Again, he was holding a file, and he used it to motion them forward.
“Come on,” he said. “We’ll talk where we did before.”
Maria smoothed her skirt as she stood and walked beside Colin, past the others working at their desks, past the group of people collected around the coffeemaker.
Margolis opened the door and pointed to the same chairs they’d used before. She and Colin took their seats as Margolis moved to the far side of the table.
“Should I be worried?” Maria blurted out.
“No. Long story short, I don’t think Lester’s going to be a problem.”
“What does that mean?” she pressed.
Margolis tapped his pen against the folder before flicking a thumb at Colin. “It seems you’re still spending time with this particular problem child. And I don’t know why you keep insisting he come with you when we discuss your case. There’s no reason for him to be here.”
“I want him here,” she said. “And yes, we’re still spending time together. Happily, I might add.”
“Why?”
“I like his body and he’s fantastic in bed,” she answered, knowing it wasn’t any of his business and not bothering to hide her sarcasm.
Margolis smirked, but there was no humor behind it. “Before we begin, let me set the ground rules. For starters, the fact that you’re here at all is simply because I told you I’d look into your allegations, and because I told you I’d be in contact. Because your tires were slashed in addition to possible stalking violations, this is a potential criminal investigation, and in such an instance, ongoing investigations are generally not discussed. Still, because there’s also the potential for a civil no-contact order—the Fifty-C—I’m choosing to meet with you and keep you as informed as I think appropriate. Also, keep in mind that because Lester Manning has not been served a Fifty-C, he has—like everyone else—certain and expected rights to privacy. In other words, I’ll tell you what I think is important, but I won’t necessarily tell you everything I know. I also want to add that most of what I’ve done has been via the telephone. I’ve had to rely on a detective friend of mine in Charlotte for a few things, and frankly, I’m not sure how much more I’m going to be able to ask of him. He’s already gone out of his way, and like me, he’s got cases that are higher priority. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” he said. “First I’ll walk you through the approach I took, then a bit of what I learned.” Opening the folder, he pulled out his notes. “My first step was to familiarize myself with all the background information, so I perused the relevant police files. That included everything having to do with the first assault on Cassie Manning, the arrest and conviction of Gerald Laws, court documents, and finally, information regarding the murder of Cassie Manning. After that, I reviewed your first stalking report—the one you made after you received the notes in Charlotte—and I spoke to the officer in charge of that particular case. It wasn’t until late Tuesday evening that I felt like I had a pretty good grasp of everything.
“Now, with regard to Lester Manning, I’m comfortable telling you what you could probably learn on your own with a simple public records search.” He glanced down again. “He’s twenty-five years old and unmarried. High school graduate. He doesn’t own any real property and there are no cars registered in his name. He lists his phone number and address as the same as his father’s. With that said, I’m not sure how much time he actually spends there.”
Maria was about to ask a question, but Margolis held up his hand to stop her.
“Let me finish, okay? You’ll understand why I say that in just a couple of minutes. Now, I can share the next bit of information because I think it’s important to the Fifty-C, but I’m not going to go into heavy details because those may or may not be important to any future criminal case, all right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Since Cassie’s death, Lester has had some problems with the law. He’s been arrested four times, but not for anything violent or dangerous. It’s all minor stuff—trespassing, vandalism, resisting arrest. Things like that. It turns out that Lester has a fondness for squatting in vacant houses. In each case, the charges were eventually dropped. I haven’t looked into the reasons, but in cases like these, it’s usually because there was little actual damage.”
Beside her, Maria saw Colin shift in his seat.
“Other than that, I wasn’t able to learn much, so I called Dr. Manning, Lester’s father. I left a message, and surprising me, I got a call back within a few minutes. I identified myself and told Dr. Manning that I was hoping to speak to his son, and I will say that he was entirely cooperative and more forthcoming than I expected. Among other things, toward the end of our second conversation, he gave me permission to disclose the full nature of my call with him to you. Does that surprise you?”
Maria opened her mouth, then closed it again, not sure what to say. “Should I be surprised?” she finally asked.
“I was,” Margolis said, “especially given the way you described him to me. But anyway, when I asked him if he knew where I might be able to find Lester, he asked me the reason, and I told him that it was regarding a police matter. To which he responded, and I quote, ‘Does this have anything to do with Maria Sanchez?’”
Margolis let the words hang before going on. “When I asked him why he brought up your name, he said that it’s not the first time you accused Lester of stalking. He said that after his daughter was murdered, you made the same accusation regarding some disturbing notes that had been sent to you. He insisted that his son, Lester, was not responsible then, and that he sincerely doubted that he was responsible for anything you were claiming now. He also said to tell you that while he does feel that you made a mistake by opting for the lesser charges, he’s well aware that Gerald Laws was responsible for Cassie’s death, and neither he nor his son blames you for what happened.”
“He’s lying.”
Margolis ignored her comment. “He told me that he’s not taking patients at the present time, and explained that he’s currently working in Tennessee for the state prison system. He said that he hasn’t spoken to Lester in weeks, but that Lester has a key to the house and occasionally stays in the apartment above the garage. He said that I’d probably be able to find Lester there. When I asked what he meant by ‘occasionally,’ Dr. Manning was quiet for a beat, and when he spoke again, I got the sense that I’d touched a nerve. He told me that ‘Lester is a bit of a nomad’ and there are times when he has no idea where Lester sleeps. I think he was referring to Lester’s habit of staying in vacant houses. When I pressed him, he added that he and his son are somewhat estranged these days, and for the first time, he sounded almost… apologetic. He reminded me that Lester was an adult and made his own decisions and there was only so much he could do as a father. He also added that if Lester wasn’t in the apartment at the house, my best bet was to try to find him at work. A place called Ajax Cleaners. It’s a janitorial service with a lot of commercial clients. He didn’t have the number offhand, but it was easy enough to find, and so my next step was to talk to the owner, a guy named Joe Henderson.”
Margolis looked up from his notes. “Are you following me so far?”
When Maria nodded, Margolis went on.
“When I spoke with Mr. Henderson, he said that Lester wasn’t a full-time or even part-time employee. He worked as an on-call employee—someone who could cover shifts when they were short-staffed or whatever.”
“How could they call him if he doesn’t have a phone?”
“I asked that very same question. The way it works there is they post open shifts on the employee section of their website—Henderson said it was easier to get a list of people and have them check than always scrambling to get the shifts covered. I had the sense there’s quite a few people who check the list regularly. Anyway, Lester sometimes worked two or three nights a week, but in the last couple of weeks, he hasn’t worked at all. Nor has Mr. Henderson heard from him. I found that interesting, so I called the house a couple of times, and no one answered. In the end, I sent my friend over there, and as far as he could tell, no one had been in the house or the apartment for at least a week. There were flyers in the mailbox, newspapers on the porch, that kind of thing. So I reached out to Dr. Manning a second time. And this is where things get kind of interesting.”
“Because you couldn’t reach him?”
“On the contrary,” he said. “Again, I left a message, and again, I got a call back within minutes. When I told Dr. Manning that Lester hadn’t been at work and that it didn’t appear that anyone had been at the house or apartment, his surprise gave way to concern. He asked again about the police matter—I hadn’t yet told him what it was—and I mentioned that I was looking into a case of slashed tires. He insisted that Lester wouldn’t do such a thing. He said his son isn’t violent; if anything, he’s terrified of conflict of any sort. He also admitted that he hadn’t been as forthcoming about Lester in the previous call as he could have been. When I asked what he meant, he told me that Lester…” Margolis reached for a page in the file. “Suffers from a delusional disorder, more specifically, ‘persecutory delusions of the nonbizarre type.’ While his son can generally function normally for extended periods, there are times when the disorder enters a more acute phase, sometimes lasting more than a month. In Lester’s case, it has its roots in the occasional usage of illegal drugs.”
Margolis looked up. “The doctor went into a bit more about the specifics of Lester’s disorder—way more than I needed to know, in fact—but essentially, it can be boiled down to this: When Lester is in an acute phase—when the disorder moves from simple paranoia to actual delusions—Lester ceases to function entirely normally. In these moments, Lester strongly believes that the police are out to get him and that they’ll stop at nothing to put him in prison for the rest of his life. He’s convinced they want to hurt him, and he’s convinced they will set other prisoners against him. He also has the same delusions about you.”
“That’s ridiculous. Lester’s been stalking me!”
“I’m just telling you what the doctor told me. He also told me that Lester had been arrested a few times. It was always during an acute phase, which was why he would resist arrest. The police would generally use Tasers to subdue him, and Dr. Manning added that on two separate occasions, Lester was beaten by other prisoners while he was locked up. That, by the way, goes to what I said earlier about my suspicion as to why the charges were dropped. I’m guessing that Lester wasn’t coherent and it didn’t take all that long for everyone to figure it out.”
Margolis let out a sigh. “But back to Dr. Manning. Like I told you, he sounded worried and he said that if Lester wasn’t at the house or working regularly, then he was likely in an acute phase. Which also meant he’d likely be in one of two places: either hiding out in a vacant house somewhere, or at Plainview, which is a psychiatric hospital. Lester’s checked himself in there numerous times in the past, more frequently since his mother died. In her will, she left a trust fund large enough to cover the cost of his treatment there. It’s expensive, by the way. I couldn’t get any answers on the phone, so I called my friend again and asked if he could head over to Plainview in person. He did that this morning, about an hour before I called you. And sure enough, Lester Manning is currently a patient there. He admitted himself voluntarily, but that’s about all the detective could really tell me. As soon as Lester learned that a detective wanted to talk to him about Maria Sanchez, he just… freaked out. My friend could hear him screaming from down the hall and the next thing he knew, a couple of orderlies were rushing in that direction. Like I said, interesting, don’t you think?”
Maria wasn’t sure what to say. In the silence, she heard Colin’s voice.
“When was he admitted to the hospital?”
She watched as Margolis’s eyes shifted toward Colin.
“I don’t know. My friend couldn’t find out. Medical records are confidential and that kind of information can’t be released without the patient’s permission. That clearly wasn’t going to happen. At least, not right then. But my friend knows what he’s doing, and so he asked one of the other patients, and the guy said that he thought Lester had been there for five or six days. Of course, considering the source, you’d have to take that information with a grain of salt.”
“In other words, it’s possible that Lester slashed the tires and left the notes.”
“Or he might have been in the hospital. And if he was in the hospital, then obviously it isn’t Lester.”
“It has to be him,” Maria insisted. “I don’t know who else it could be.”
“How about Mark Atkinson?”
“Who?”
“Cassie’s boyfriend. Because I looked into him, too. It turns out that he may or may not be missing.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m still doing some preliminary work on that, but here’s what I can tell you. Mark Atkinson’s mother filed a missing persons report on her son about a month ago. But after I talked to the detective and right before I called you, I spoke with her to get more information, and I’m still not sure what to make of it. She told me that in August, he sent her an e-mail saying that he’d met someone online and that he was quitting his job and going to Toronto to meet her in person. She had no idea what to make of that, but in the e-mail, he told her not to worry. He said he’d prepaid his rent and that other bills were being paid online. The mother says she received a couple of printed letters from him saying that he was on a road trip with the woman, one of them postmarked from Michigan and another from Kentucky, but according to her, they were—and I quote—‘vague and strange and impersonal, and not what my son would write.’ Other than that, there’s been no contact with him, and she insists that he’s missing. She says he would have called or texted her, and the fact that he hasn’t done those things means that something has happened to him.”
The new information left Maria’s head spinning, and it was all she could do to stay seated. Even Colin seemed at a loss for words.
Margolis looked from one to the other. “So that’s where I am right now. If you’re wondering what my plan is, moving forward, I’m going to give the good doctor another call and see if he can grease the wheels and find out when Lester was admitted. Or better yet, have his son give the physicians at Plainview permission to tell me. Depending on what I learn there, I may or may not check into the Mark Atkinson thing. But frankly, that’s a lot of legwork, and again, I don’t know how much more time I can commit to this.”
“It’s not Atkinson,” Maria repeated. “It’s Lester.”
“If that’s the case, then for now, I wouldn’t worry.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because,” he said simply, “as I just told you, Lester is in the hospital.”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Maria said to Colin. They were in the parking lot, the sun inching out from behind thin strands of clouds. “I’ve never met Mark Atkinson. I’ve never talked to him. As far as I know, I’ve never even seen him. Why would he be stalking me? He wasn’t even dating Cassie when Laws went to jail. He didn’t come into the picture until later. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know.”
“And why the hell would Lester think I’m out to get him?”
“It’s a delusion.”
She glanced away, her voice becoming quieter. “I hate this. I mean, I feel like I know even less than I did before I came here today. And now I have no idea what I’m supposed to do, or even what I’m supposed to think about all this.”
“I’m not sure what to make of it, either.”
She shook her head. “Oh, one thing I forgot to tell you. I had to cancel with Jill and Leslie tonight because it’s my mom’s birthday. I’ll be at my parents’ place tonight while you’re at work.”
“Do you want me to come by after my shift?”
“No. Dinner will be over by then. My dad makes the meal—it’s the one time a year that he actually cooks—but it’s not a big deal. It’ll be just the four of us.”
“Are you going to stay there overnight? Or head back to your condo?”
“I’m thinking of going home. It’s probably time, don’t you think?”
Colin was quiet for a moment. “How about I meet you there? Just hang at your parents’ and I’ll call you when my shift is done.”
“Would you mind?”
“Not at all.”
She let out a sigh. “I’m sorry that as soon as things started clicking between us, all this had to happen. I hate that you’re having to deal with it.”
He kissed her. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”