Waiting for Jo (11 page)

“Thanks, Ned. I appreciate it.”

“It’s Ted,” he says.

The server brings me another drink, and I
down it quickly. “Sorry, Ted. My bad.”

“I think it’s time for my friend and me to
go,” Harley says. “She’s had a rough day.” Harley throws down some
cash and grabs my wrist. “Come on, Jo. Let’s go.”

“But I want another alligator drink,” I
say.

“No way. You’ve had enough. I’m taking you
home.”

Harley continues pulling me by the wrist
until I budge from my chair. “Thanks for the drinks, Ned. I’ll see
you later,” I say.

“Jesus Christ, you’re a light weight,” Harley
says as she guides me toward the passenger seat of her Acura.

Harley gets in the driver’s seat, pulls my
seatbelt across my chest and buckles it. I fish around in my purse
for my cell phone and pull it out. I begin to type in my passcode
to unlock the phone.

“What the hell are you doing, Jo?”

“Calling James. It’s time to tell him what’s
up. No more of this bullshit,” I say confidently.

Harley tries to grab the phone out of my
hand, but I see her coming and pull it back.

“Okay. Fine. If you want to call James while
you’re on the verge of drunk, that’s your problem. But you’re going
to regret it in the morning. And don’t forget that you actually
have to see him and work with him.”

Even in my drunken haze, I know that Harley
is right, and I silently put the phone back in my purse.

“Good girl,” Harley says. “Now, let’s get you
home before you try to do any other crazy shit.”

***

It’s only 8:45, but I decide to get in bed,
watch TV, and cuddle with Malcolm. I pull back my soft duvet and
slide in between the Egyptian cotton, 1000-thread-count sheets that
I splurged on for my birthday last year. Malcolm jumps up on the
bed and lies down next to me, resting his head on my thigh.

I try to relax, but I can’t stop thinking
about James. I don’t know what he wants, and I’m getting tired of
wondering. Maybe he only wants sex. But if that’s the case, why
does he act jealous? And if he wants to be with me, why doesn’t he
just say that? Maybe he doesn’t want to be with me, but he doesn’t
want me to be with anyone else to either. The thought makes me
completely angry. I just can’t hold it in any longer. I may still
be a little buzzed, but I need to let him know how I feel.

E-mail seems like the best option. I can say
whatever I need to say without being interrupted or losing my
courage halfway through.

To: James Parker

From: Josephine O’Shea

James,

There’s something that I need to get off of
my chest. Since I started working for you, you’ve been flirting
with me and making passes at me. You’ve also been acting jealous
and prying into my personal life. This behavior is inappropriate,
and unless you plan on exploring the possibility of getting back
together, it needs to stop. You broke my heart when you left me,
and I’m having a very difficult time getting over you. It doesn’t
help when you act the way you do.

I’m sorry, but if you’re not interested in
more than friendship, then we both need to behave in a professional
manner while we’re working together. The ball is in your court.
It’s time to make a decision.

Sincerely,

Jo

I read over the e-mail a few times and
consider deleting it. I think that it would break my heart even
more if James said that he wanted to just be friends and keep
things professional. At least when he’s flirting with me and being
curious about my personal life I feel like there’s some hope,
little tiny bits of hope, but hope nonetheless. But I know what’s
best for me. If I let this behavior continue, I’m never going to be
able to move on. My cursor arrow hovers over the send button in my
e-mail for several seconds until I finally muster the courage to
tap the touchpad on my laptop, sending the message into
cyberspace.

No going back now.

I put my laptop away and lie awake, hoping
that my phone will beep, alerting me to a new e-mail message, but
at the same time dreading the contents of that forthcoming
message.

After an hour or so I still haven’t received
a response from James and lying in the dark, constructing scenarios
in my head about why is driving me crazy. I look over at my camera
bag and remember that I have some undeveloped film from the concert
at the botanical gardens. I put on my robe and slippers and grab
the bag. A little time in the dark room should distract me for a
while.

I cross my backyard and unlock the little
shed that I turned into a dark room about a year ago. I haven’t
been in here in months and it shows. I take a few minutes to wipe
away the dust on the counters and clear away some of the cobwebs.
Malcolm lies down on an old blanket in the corner and falls
asleep.

I place all of my tools in front of me before
turning off the lights. I then pop open the film canister, remove
the film, load the film onto the film reel, and place the reel
inside the developing tank. I add the developer to the tank and
shake it for thirty seconds or so before adding the stop bath. I
then dump the stop bath, add the fixer, and then repeat with the
hypo-clearing agent.

After a few minutes, my film is developed,
and I remove it from the reel. This is my favorite part of the
process. I pull the negatives from the reel, and look at each
frame. I smile as I see Will’s handsome face and the Funky Butt
Brass Band rocking out.

Just as I’m about to hang the film to dry, I
notice a familiar looking face on one of the negatives. A chill
runs up my spine. Is that Dickey? It certainly looks like him, but
it’s so hard to tell. The person is standing far away in the
background, and the negative is too small. I finish hanging the
film and wish that I didn’t have to wait to make prints. As soon as
I do, I’ll know whether that’s Dickey in the shot.

But that will have to wait until tomorrow.
It’s late and it will take a few hours for the negatives to dry
completely. I start cleaning up the mess I’ve made so that I can go
to bed, but just before I’m about to leave, I hear foot steps
outside the door. I freeze and listen to see if I hear it again.
Several seconds pass, and then I hear something that sounds like
metal being dragged along the concrete path in my back yard. The
sound is getting closer and closer to the shed.

Whatever it is must be right outside. Then I
hear a loud thud against the door. It’s as if whoever is out there
pulled something to the shed and set it against the door.

“Who’s there?” I ask.

No one responds.

My heart races.

“I’m calling the police, so I suggest you
leave.”

Still no response.

I reach into the pocket of my robe to get my
phone, but I realize it’s not there.

Fuck! I left it in the house. Why did I do
that?

I grab a small utility knife from a shelf. If
someone is coming to get me, I’m not going down without a
fight.

I stand perfectly still facing the door for
several minutes, but nothing happens. I decide to leave the shed.
This might be the most dangerous thing that I’ve ever done, but I
don’t think I have any other options. I keep the knife in my right
hand, and I lightly place my left hand on the door knob. I turn it
very slowly and attempt to push the door open, but it’s stuck.
There’s something blocking it. I push harder. It doesn’t budge. I
slam my body into it. It still doesn’t move.

Someone has trapped me in here!

Terrible thoughts begin to run through my
mind. What if they’re planning to light the shed on fire while I’m
stuck in here? There aren’t any other ways out. I begin to cry and
panic, and I do the only thing that I can manage to do. I scream. I
scream louder than I’ve ever screamed before. Malcolm is scared and
huddled in the corner, but he’s able to at least bark. I hope one
of my neighbors hears us and lets us out.

Minutes pass, and I begin to think that no
one is going to come to my rescue. I stop screaming and start
pacing.

I hear the footsteps again.

Then the sound of metal on the concrete. I
hold the knife out in front of me, ready to jab at whoever comes in
that door.

The door flies open, and I instinctually step
toward the person entering.

“Put the knife down, Jo!”

I see Will’s face and drop the knife to the
ground.

I’ve never been so happy to see someone in my
entire life, and I throw my arms around him.

“Someone locked me in here,” I say between
sobs.

Will gently pushes me away. “Do you have a
flashlight in here?” he asks quietly.

“Over there.” I point to a small
bookshelf.

Will grabs the flashlight and turns to
leave.

“Where are you going?” I ask frantically.
“Don’t leave me here by myself.”

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to see if I
can find whoever locked you in here.”

I want to beg Will to stay, but I know he
won’t.

He bolts out of the door and jogs toward the
alley with the flashlight in hand.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I can’t manage
to hold them back. I feel so powerless. I cry loudly as I wait for
what feels like an eternity before he finally returns.

“I ran down the alley,” he says, “but I
didn’t see anyone. Hopefully, I’ve scared him off.” Will reaches
for my hand, pulls me toward him, and holds me in a strong embrace.
“Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t help it. I was
so scared. I had no idea what to do.”

“I’m here now, and nothing is going to happen
to you,” Will says.

“How did you know I was in here?” I ask.

“I tried calling you to tell you some things
that I found out about Dickey, but you didn’t answer. I immediately
assumed that something was wrong. I tried to convince myself that I
was being paranoid.” Will sits down in an old folding chair and
pulls me onto his lap.

“What made you come over?” I ask.

“I just couldn’t shake the feeling that
something was wrong. I had to know that you were okay. I drove over
here and knocked on your front door, but you didn’t answer. Then I
thought I heard screams. It took me a minute to realize they were
coming from the backyard.” I lay my head on his shoulder, and he
wraps his arms around me. “I came back here and saw that metal
chair up against the door and that the light was on. I immediately
knew that someone had shut you up in there.”

“I’m so glad that you got here when you did.
Who knows what this freak was planning.”

“I don’t even want to think about it,” Will
says. “Let’s lock up and go inside.”

I jump off of Will’s lap and use the sleeve
of my robe to wipe a few tears from my face. “Wait. There’s
something I want to show you.” I carefully pull the wet negatives
up to eye level. “Look. I think that’s Dickey. I won’t be sure
until I make a print though.”

“Do you think he was watching us that day?”
Will asks.

“It’s a possibility. More and more, I think
that Dickey is the one that’s doing all of this.”

“I’m starting to think so, too. That’s what I
wanted to talk to you about tonight.”

“What did you find out?” I ask. I start
straightening up some things in the shed while Will talks.

“I was able to get a friend of a friend to
find his criminal record. He was arrested for and charged with
domestic abuse two years ago, but not convicted. There was also
another woman who filed a police report claiming that he was
harassing her, but he was never charged with anything.”

“Yikes. It sounds like he has a shaky
history.”

“Most definitely. Maybe it’s time to file a
police report, Jo”

“You might be right. Based on his past, I
could be in danger. Assuming it’s Dickey, of course.”

Will and I lock up the shed and go inside. I
call the call the non-emergency number of the police department to
report the incident in the shed. They send an officer to my house,
and he takes a quick statement and does a patrol of the area but
doesn’t find anything.

And once again, Will sleeps on my couch while
I toss and turn in my bed. Even with him here, I’m too scared to
sleep. It’s going to be another long day at work tomorrow.

Chapter 1
5

“Good morning, Jo,” Debbie says with a big
smile on her face as I walk into the office.

“Good morning, Debbie. How are you?”

“Oh, my back’s been acting up a little.”
Debbie straightens up in her chair and arches her back in an
attempt to stretch it out. “But other than that, I’m super.”

“Well, I hope you get to feeling better
really soon,” I say.

“Me too, Darlin’. Me too!” Debbie picks up a
stack of papers and hands them to me. “James is out of town today,
but he wanted me to have you work on the motion for the Martinez
case. He said you’d know what I was talking about.”

I take the stack of papers and head towards
my office. “Thanks, Debbie,” I say.

Where could James be? I know he didn’t have
an out of town trial today. I go into my office to check his shared
calendar and there is nothing scheduled for the entire day. Could
he be trying to avoid me? No. James isn’t like that. I don’t think
that he’d avoid his own office because of the e-mail I sent last
night. I guess I just won’t know unless I ask him when he gets
back.

My thoughts are interrupted by the text alert
going off on my phone. My heart jumps. Maybe it’s James. I’m let
down a bit when I see that it’s Scotty.

Scotty Miller: Hey doll, we got in a really
good Chateauneuf-du-Pape last night. Come in and check it out.

That actually sounds like a good idea. I need
to get my mind off of things right now. And getting to try a new
wine and catch up with Scotty will give me something else to focus
on. There’s always a chance that Will may be around too. The
thought makes me smile.