Caroline feels her husband’s presence before she sees him. She’s in the depths of their shared closet, well one of the closets that stored the freshly done blonde’s impressive wardrobe. He’s leaning against the door frame and she feels that he’s nervous. She knows before she looks over her shoulder that his arms will be crossed and his expression serious. He’d grown quite good at masking his emotions behind a look of cold and serious, most people not being able to read the man, labeling him such a mystery, but that rule just simply didn’t apply to his wife. Caroline is getting dressed to walk into a real estate office to steal files to prove that her stalker had moved a few houses down. They weren’t stupid enough to think that the stalker would work with some shady and racist people, and with Abel and Jordan both being men of color, they wouldn’t be treated the same way as Caroline.
She knew that her stalker would be smart enough to do something similar, to make sure there were plenty of roadblocks to keep them from learning anything at all. But he wasn’t counting on Abel letting Caroline do any of the heavy lifting in this investigation. He was petting that Abel’s love was too big to let her try, and that’s why this plan was perfect.
“You’re staring.” she commented, standing in front of a full length mirror looking at herself in the mirror. If there was one thing Caroline knew, it was that she knew how to make her clothes speak for her. She’s dressed in a bright red pencil skirt that hits her knees, and a matching blazer. It was bright enough that it didn’t seem like she was playing dress up, it was short enough and tight enough that she could sweet talk her way into anything if the place was crowded with old white men ready to attempt to take advantage of a young girl with money. And portraying a young girl with money was why she didn’t skip on the jewelry, diamonds sparkling in her ears, her engagement and wedding band always on her left finger (that could help with seeming not a threat to any women in the building with their hopes on landing a hot date with the boring guy who worked in the cubical close to them) and her heels high enough, and the red bottoms both matching her dress and reminding them that she was a client they’d love to make commission off of.
After she’d finished getting ready, safety precautions had to be taken. Her phone would remain on in her bag, Abel on the other line listening for any type of trouble. They’d practiced a safety word if she needed anything on the other end. If she was in danger, all she had to say was, “I’m not feeling well, do you mind if I come back with my husband?” though, Jordan and Abel both drilled in her head that getting out “Not feeling well” was all that she would need to say and not to be afraid to say it.
They were more nervous than she was, she could feel it as they drove in the Range Rover, it was an easier car to hide in than Caroline’s pink Tesla or Abel’s P1. She would be going in alone, and honestly, she was too determined to be scared. The police were going to let this man kill her, they had to do things in a different way, they had to take her life in their own hands. “I’ll be okay, I promise.” she said, kissing her husband on the lips soft and slow before she left the car. She called him, “Can you hear me?” she’d ask and when it was confirmed, she’d place her phone in her bag and she’d tap her fortify bracelet to send her locations or any falls straight to the app on her husbands phone.
She opened the door, and put on a mask of being just happy to be there. She walked up to the desk, “Hi, I have a meeting to look at some potential office spaces.” she said before she was met by a tall man in a cheap suit. He wanted people to think he had money, a fake Rolex on his wrist, shoes that he’d shined poorly, the product leaving streaks on them. He was single, but he wore a wedding ring, she was sure he thought that made him more attractive.
“I’m Paul, follow me?” he said, extending his hand as if he was incredibly charming, Caroline sticking her small hand to shake, careful to hand him her left hand. The one that was decorated with her wedding rings, he’d like that, he’d think of her as a challenge, so many men did. But he’d be extra nice to her, in hopes of sliding in to the woman who’s married for real estate advice. If she was honest, it made her sick.
“So, you’re looking for an office?” he said, coming to sit in an office chair at a desk in front of her. “I am, yes, I’m a designer, and I need studio space.” she said, sitting her bag on the chair next to her instead of on the ground to make sure that Abel would still be able to hear what was going on. “Will you be looking in this area? And are you pre approved?” he asked, as if she was dumb enough and knew very little about the housing market. Which wasn’t exactly true, Caroline had done plenty of research, and she’d purchased many properties on her own. “I’m actually not, but my LLC is, would that be a problem?” she asked, studying his face to any slight change of reaction. She waited, but she could’ve sworn the second she said it, her face turned into dollar signs and she no longer was just a client he’d love to sleep with, she was a paycheck.
“Not a problem at all, ma’am! We work with LLC’s all the time, commercials are my specialty. How about I go grab some options and we can talk about what might fit your needs! How about some coffee? I’ll bring a cup, how do you take it?” he asked, clearly excited to close another large deal. He was probably hoping to secure a job in being a broker but couldn’t afford to start his own brokerage yet. “That would be great. Black is fine, a little sugar and a pinch of cinnamon if you have it.” she said to the overly excited and mildly sweaty man as he exited the office.
The offices didn’t have large windows, so she was able to move quickly from her seat to his desk. His computer was on lock and even if it wasn’t there was a post it note with all his login and passwords sitting beside the keyboard. She quickly signed in and forwarded anything that involved “Lucky 15 LLC” to herself and then deleted the emails. She was able to get bank statements and contracts. She had to be fast. The filing cabinet was locked, but Caroline’s past as a self proclaimed party girl had taught her how easy it was to pick simple locks. Her and Birdie both could get out of any situation basically, they were reckless, not airheads.
She was back in her seat with the files tucked away in her bag before he returned with stacks and stacks of papers. He’d just placed the papers down and handed her the cup of coffee. His hands were shaking a bit causing him to spill a drop of the coffee on her red skirt that caused the OCD in her to cringe. It was vintage Chanel and he’d simply dropped three dollar coffee on it.
She brought the cup to her lips but she didn’t take a sip, she didn’t trust a single thing in this place and she wouldn’t be drugged again. Suddenly, the phone rang and he answered it. He spoke quickly, “I’m with a client.” he said, pausing for whatever the other person on the phone was saying. “Right now?” he asked, his tone getting sadder and more frustrated. “If you’re sure…” he said, and hung up. “I am so sorry Mrs. Tesfaye, I am going to be pulled into a meeting with my boss, I will have to reschedule, will that be okay?” he asked, and Caroline could’ve sighed a sigh of relief but she didn’t want to alarm the man. “Oh, really?” she said pretending to pout, a little bratty attitude in not getting her way to really sell it. “Okay, my assistant will be in touch.” she said as he told her he’d walk her out.
Just as Caroline opened the door of the office, she felt sick. Not in the fake “I feel sick” way that was the safety call that was drilled into her head. I'm really sick. The kind of sick that made her want to throw up, because she was standing face to face with her stalker. He was dressed in a suit, he looked like he owned the place. His presence made everyone nervous including the man who’s name she’d forgotten who was walking her out. “Paul! My man! Thank you for making time to sit with me.” Her stalker said, his eyes didn’t move from her face even when speaking to someone else. “Mr. Williams, this is…” he started gesturing to Caroline.
He’s cut off by her stalker, the color draining from Caroline’s face. She tried to say the words that she felt sick but they wouldn’t come. “Oh, Caroline and I go way back, don’t we Caroline? How long now? Years.” he said, his lips curving up into a smile reminding her of a lion about to eat his prey. “It’s so nice to see you here, are you property shopping? Moving?” he asked, and Caroline still couldn’t speak. Paul was excited to use her to impress who she was now learning might be his boss. “Oh yes, Caroline’s looking for an office. She’s a real life fashion designer, sir. Real star.” he said, bragging about her like he knew her, not just the large number of her bank account she shared with her husband. “Well, I hope you found what you’re looking for, Caroline. Give my best to Abel, let him know I’ll be seeing him soon, will you?” he said before looking her up and down one last time, “You look fantastic, love. Really.” he said, and with that he was gone, “Paul.” he prompted, walking into the same office she’d just walked out of.
She didn’t even stop holding her breath as she carefully walked out of the door. Once she was out of the view of the office, she started to run. The sound of her high heels clicking on the pavement as loud as the thumping of her heart. She ran, she ran all the way until she ran right into her husband, collapsing into his arms, tears streaming down her face. “Hes..he’s….he’s in there.” she got out in between sobs, he was still ahead…he was always ahead.
