The Staler

When I got home, I took a bath, changed my clothes, and had some breakfast. Then I called Roscoe. I wanted to get started on my new case as soon as possible. Actually, what I wanted was to see Jennifer again and, in less guarded moments, I admitted that to myself. I couldn’t remember being obsessed with any woman like I seemed to be with Jennifer. Even Nadine, my ex-wife, hadn’t inspired this kind of feelings in me. Of course, that could be one of the reasons Nadine is my ex-wife.

Roscoe said he’d be right over, and showed up at my house about ten minutes after I called him, just long enough for me to get a pot of coffee made.

“OK, so why is it so hard to bust this asshole?” I asked him. “You know who he is, you know what he’s doing, why can’t you tie it together?”

Roscoe reached into his coat, brought out a small tape recorder, set it on the table, and turned it on.

“You are a no-good slut,” a voice that sounded mechanical, almost as if it was computer-generated, said. “You don’t deserve to live. They won’t be able to protect you for ever. I warned you. If you won’t be mine, then you’ll die.”

“That’s an artificial voice, generated by a computer,” Roscoe explained. “The cops and I have both had our electronic technicians go over it, but we can’t tell any more about it than that.”

“How’d you get that?” I asked.

“Came off her answering machine,” Roscoe said. “She gets a message like that every day, sometimes more than once a day. They’re always short, and he makes the calls from different places. Sometimes even from cell phones using stolen access codes.”

“So even in this age of modern electronics, he’s not on the line long enough to trap, right?” I said.

“We can trap the number,” Roscoe said. “But by the time we get there, he’s long gone. This guy hasn’t killed anybody, or even hurt the lady, so the cops aren’t going to tie up half their manpower trying to catch him, you know? Even if her late husband had a lot of clout.”

“So where do I fit in?” I asked.

“I want to use you for personal security, the overnight shift,” he said. “I’ve been doing it, but I have to have someone I can count on there in case this guy decides to up the ante.”

“You think he’s going to?” I asked. Sometimes creeps like this were satisfied with just harassment.

“I’m almost positive he will,” Roscoe said. “The messages have been getting more and more threatening and sound as if this guy’s getting more and more pissed. And a little piece of information you might find interesting is that he’s ex-military.”

“So?” I asked.

“He was a platoon leader of a Green Beret Long Range Recon platoon,” Roscoe said.

That did complicate things. It meant he knew a lot more about terrorist techniques than the average jerk who goes after a woman. It also meant we were dealing with someone who had received the Army’s best training on how to kill people.

“OK, so he’s going to tough,” I said. “You think I can handle it?”

Roscoe smiled and nodded. “Seeing as how you were a Navy SEAL, I sure as hell hope you can,” he said. “I need someone who can keep the lady safe while I work on figuring out how to stop this asshole. I’m good, but I can’t do both.”

I wondered if Jennifer knew who Roscoe had working for him. If she didn’t, what would her reaction be when she found out I’d be spending the night at her house? The prospect of being with her caused me a little bit of pleasant anticipation, but I had a feeling, judging from the way she’d acted the last time we were together, she might not be too happy about it.

“I’ll give it my best shot,” I said. “I hope I can manage to stay awake.”

“You damn well better stay awake,” Roscoe said. “Like I told you, this guy isn’t your run of the mill stalker. He’s not all revved up on steroids and stupid like your buddy Billy-boy was, and he knows shit that could cause you and the lady a lot of pain if you aren’t careful.”

“I kind of figured that,” I said. “Thing is, our client’s not going to have any kind of life if we can’t figure out a way to stop this guy.”

“I know that,” Roscoe said, “but I’ll be damned if I can figure out how.” He snorted. “Wasting him may be the only way to make sure of that.”

“I’m not sure the client would be too happy if we did that,” I said.

“Shit, I’m not so sure I’d be too happy if we did,” Roscoe replied. “But I gotta tell you, this guy’s got me running around in circles. Big ones.”

“You want me to start tonight?” I asked.

“Damn straight,” Roscoe replied. “If you’re ready, we can go over to the house now and I’ll introduce you to her.”

“I’ve got my gear all packed,” I said. “I’m ready any time you are.”

Roscoe stood up. “Let’s go,” he said.

I grabbed my gear, which was in a couple of large black nylon duffle bags and an aluminum case, and carried it out to Roscoe’s car.

“You got body armor in there?” Roscoe asked as I piled my gear into the back of his black mini-van.

“I have it. Do you think I’m going to need it?” I asked.

“He hasn’t taken any aggressive action yet, but he might,” my employer replied. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I don’t either,” I said. I walked around and got into the van on the passenger side.

Roscoe climbed behind the wheel, fired up the engine, and backed out of my driveway.

“You tell Jennifer who you’re using?” I asked as Roscoe drove down the street toward her house.

He shook his head. “No, why?” he asked. “There any reason I should have?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “There’s a possibility she might not be happy.”

“Why the hell not?” Roscoe asked. “What difference does it make who I use as long as they do the job?” He glanced over at me. “There some old baggage between you and this woman?”

I shrugged. “The hell of it is, I don’t know,” I told him. “She and I saw each other a few times, back when I was still married and her husband was still alive.”

“Jesus Christ!” Roscoe exclaimed. “Damn, man, why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“I didn’t know if it was important or not,” I said.

“I take it things between the two of you didn’t end happy, is that it?” Roscoe asked. “She dump you because she found out you were married?”

I shook my head. “Just the opposite, actually,” I said. “She picked me because I was married. I don’t have the slightest idea why she dumped me.”

“Wait a minute,” Roscoe said. “That doesn’t make any sense. You mean she screwed around on her old man regularly?”

“How much did she tell you about her marriage?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Not all that much,” he said. “Just that her husband was older than her, and that there weren’t any real problems in the marriage. She got involved with this guy who’s stalking her after her husband died. Met him because his firm was handling probate of the will, actually.”

I wasn’t sure how much I should tell Roscoe about Jennifer’s marriage. But I had a feeling he needed to know, and there wasn’t anyone I trusted more. “Roscoe, her husband was gay,” I said. “They had a marriage of convenience, I guess you could say. He had his relationships and she had hers. The only deal was that they both had to be discrete.”

“Jesus,” Roscoe said, shaking his head. “You never know about people, do you?”

“Not really,” I said. “I just thought you might need to know that there was a need to be a little discrete, you know?”

“So how come she broke off with you?” he asked.

“I don’t know, and I’ve never been able to figure it out,” I said. “That was over a year ago, and I haven’t heard from her since.”

“Damn!” he said. “Well, I guess if she doesn’t want you around, I’m going to have to convince her that it’s for the best. I mean she doesn’t have to sleep with you, right?”

“Right,” I said.