Chapter 106

“Miles,” I say again, more urgently this time. “She sent a picture.”

Miles glances over at me, looking at my face. Whatever he sees there makes him pull the car over into a brightly lit parking lot.

“Show me,” he says, so I do, turning the phone toward him.

His face hardens further and his expression goes dark. Seeing him like this makes me even more nervous. But then he sighs and shakes his head. The darkness clears somewhat.

I worry he might be hiding the truth for my benefit, but I don’t want to call him out on it. Especially because this new demeanor is helping to calm my frazzled nerves.

“That picture is blurry at best,” Miles says. “Amber would be wasting her time leaking that.”

“You can tell it’s me,” I say. Miles’s face is buried in my neck, so he might not be as obvious.

“Only if they know you,” Miles says. “But this is all moot. She’s not going to reveal the photo anyway. She only trying to force me to speak to her again. It’s not going to work.”

“Okay,” I say. I’m still nervous about it but his explanation makes enough sense. Amber really did seem out of her mind tonight.

Miles looks back to the road, puts the car in drive, and pulls back onto the street.

He drives through the streets of the city a ways until we are in a district that seems more offices than stores or homes. He pulls into a spot out front of one of the buildings that says Allen Dustin, Attorney.

“This is it,” Miles says. We hop out of the car. I wait for him on the sidewalk as he walks around. Once he’s at my side, we walk into the building.

In the reception area, an older woman with bifocal glasses immediately spots up and bounces up from the chair.

“This way, Representative Hamilton,” she says and leads us through a hallway. She stops outside of the rooms, the only one that has had any lights on. “In here, please.”

Inside, a balding man in an expensive suit sits at the end of a far table. A uniformed police officer sits next to him. Behind them, bookcases line the walls. The shelves are filled with thick tomes of legal documents and court case summaries.

With his hand on the small of my back, Miles guides me to the empty chair beside the balding man, across from the officer. One I take that seat, Miles sits next to me.

“Ms. Owens,” Miles says. He motions toward the balding man. “This is my attorney, Allen Dustin. And…” He motions toward the officer.

“Officer Clark,” the policeman provides.

“Officer Clark,” Miles repeats.

“Nice to meet you,” I say to each of them.

“Ms. Owens,” Officer Clark replies formally.

“Ms. Owens, we just need you to tell the officer how Amber has been harassing you. Then you can sign this paperwork I’ve already filled out for you, and we can be done,” Mr. Dustin says, skipping pleasantries and going straight to business.

“I don’t know if she’s been harassing me…” I say, suddenly unsure.

Miles gives me a flat look. “Tell them about how she put you in the hospital, Esther. Or about the time she accosted us when we were heading to a dinner meeting. Or tonight.”

I glance at him, trying to wordless ask if it would be okay to show the photo.

“This is my attorney and a police officer,” Miles says. “Show them the messages from tonight. Including the photo. It’s fine.”

Trusting Miles, I relay my account of the times Amber harassed me, including the bullying at work that escalated into the hospital incident. I also include how she approached us on the street. Finally, I show them the messages from tonight and explained how it escalated.

Officer Clark takes his own notes. Mr. Dustin nods like he knows everything already. Miles sits very straight in his chair next to me, tension radiating off of him.

I speak as clearly as I can, filling in any details Officer Clark requests. It’s almost like an out of body experience. As I’m explaining the things that happened, I’m half-pretending that they actually happened to someone else. It makes it easier to talk about.

When I’m finished, I can see clearly now that Amber harassed me, just as Miles suggested. I’m uneasy about this, and about how I had mentally convinced myself that things weren’t as bad as they are.

“Sign here,” Mr. Dustin says. I sign where he’s pointing.

Officer Clark takes down my information.

When we’re finished, Miles walks me back toward the reception area.

“If you could take me back to my car,” I start to say.

“You can’t possibly want to go back there tonight?” Miles asks me, incredulous.

“I’ll need my car,” I say. “I have work in the morning.”

Miles’s jaw locks. He thinks for a moment, then holds out his hand and says, “Give me your keys.”

“Why?” I ask.

“I’ll send one my security guys to get your car. No way in hell I’m letting you go back there. They will bring the car here.”

He’s clearly mad, and I anticipate stubbornness if I try to push back. He’s not totally wrong, either. I don’t exactly want to go back to that bookstore. Amber could still be lurking there.

I hand over my keys to Miles.

“Wait here,” he says, and steps outside for a minute. When he returns, he says, “It shouldn’t take long.”

Together we sit in the reception area while the older woman types away at her keyboard.

Mr. Dustin and Officer Clark exit the meeting room, just as Miles receives a text. Miles checks it.

“Hold on a minute,” Miles says to the others. “Officer Clark, I believe we have something to add to that order.”

Panic creeps up inside of me, sending tiny little shivers up the length of my spine. “What’s the matter?” I ask.

“You won’t be getting your car back tonight, Esther,” Miles says. “Because Amber slashed all four of your tires.”

I slump down on my chair.

“That means she had a knife,” Mr. Dustin says. He looks at Officer Clark. “I hope that can accelerate things.”

“I’ll look into it,” Officer Clark says and steps out of the building.

Miles settles back into the chair beside me. He doesn’t look at me and I can see him seething.

“This isn’t your fault,” I say softly.

Mr. Dustin has moved away, speaking with the receptionist. I don’t really want either of them to overhear this conversation.

“Amber is lashing out at you because of me,” Miles says. “If I had known she could be this vindictive, I would have cut off our friendship years ago.”

“How could you have known?”

“I should have seen it,” Miles says. “She’s always been the possessive type. As I thought she understood we would never be more than friends, I found it amusing how she would act jealous.”

“Has she acted like this before?”

“When she was jealous, she would get a bit huffy and short,” Miles says. “But no. She never behaved this obsessively.”

“Then you couldn’t have known.”

Miles shook his head. He wasn’t going to believe any of my words. Slowly, he stood up. “I should get you out of here.”

I stand too. “If you could drop me off at home, I would appreciate it.”

His eyes flash. “You mean, Garnar’s?”

“Yes,” I say.

His frown becomes more pronounced. “No, Esther. I’m not taking you there. You are coming home with me instead.”

I blink. I’m not against it exactly but we didn’t really talk about this. “I am?”

Miles inches closer. Fire sparks in his eyes.

His voice low, he says, “I’m not letting you out of my sight for the rest of the night.”