Once she had Claire wrapped in her arms, Tristan broached the subject again. “Claire, honey, you have no suspects at all? Maybe an ex-lover?” She intentionally avoided bringing up Mike, waiting to see if Claire would.
Claire sniffed back the tears. “I confronted my most recent ex. I am certain it’s not her. I have searched my mind for anyone I thought could be remotely responsible and have come up with zip.”
“Did you say this started while you were in Houston?”
“Yes. The envelopes started coming almost a year ago. Since I have been living here, I’ve gotten two. Whoever it is knew exactly where to find me in Houston and now knows where I live and where I go. I know this sounds terrible, but I have been wondering a lot about Mike and Lauren.”
Tristan poured them each a glass of wine. “Did you know them before you got here?”
Claire thought for a minute as she sipped her wine, hoping it would calm her frazzled nerves. “I’ve worked with Lauren a 129
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couple of times when she was a floater. I’ve worked with Mike also on a couple of accounts.”
“Did either of them live in Houston the same time you did?”
“I know that Lauren lived in Beaumont for a while. Mike lived in Houston until he got the job here. I know you suspect Mike, but I can hardly believe he would be capable of such behavior.”
Tristan sighed. “I don’t want to accuse anyone, but they are both the most likely suspects in my mind. Especially Mike.”
Claire drank half her glass of wine, and Tristan topped it off for her. The wine was having a relaxing effect on Claire. She leaned back into Tristan, feeling comforted by her closeness.
“I suppose that stands to reason, but I can’t imagine why either of those two would do something like that to me. I would hate to go to the police and have them investigated. Can you imagine the scandal that would cause, especially if they were proven innocent?”
“Something needs to be done. I understand your reservations about going to the police. Either way, I will support you in your decision, but I don’t want him with you alone. No matter how mundane the conversation, you should always have someone else present when you talk to him. I’m doing my best to stay out of it and let you deal with him, but I’d really like to get my hands around his neck.”
“I just need a little time to make up my mind on that, Tristan. I’m so thankful I have you in my life now. It’s such a comfort to have your support.” Claire turned in Tristan’s arms to face her. “I don’t know if you’re ready to hear this or not. I have tried so hard to convey it to you without words, but I have to tell you that I love you very much.”
With hands covered in suds, Tristan caressed Claire’s face, giving her a bubble beard. “I love you, too, Claire. Now that I have you, I won’t let you go. You’re stuck with me for life.”
The conversation continued into the bedroom, where both women expressed their feelings for one another. Claire lay with her head on Tristan’s shoulder as she ran her fingers through her hair. She marveled at how different it had been that night. Tristan caressed her with a tenderness that she had never felt before.
Through each kiss and touch, they communicated the feelings that words alone could not convey.
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Both were pleasantly exhausted and on the verge of sleep when Claire noticed something in Tristan’s bedroom that she had not paid much attention to before. A picture hung on the wall, beautifully framed and matted. Through sleepy eyes, Claire could tell it was of a towboat on the Mississippi. The boat itself was just a shadow silhouetted by the setting sun. She was about to ask Tristan about it but found her sound asleep. Claire turned off the bedside lamp and burrowed close to the warm body that made her feel safe.
The next morning, Tristan left early to finish up some reports in the office. Claire used the excuse that she needed to catch up on laundry. She had argued that since she nearly lived there, she should help out with the household chores. She watched as Tristan drove down the driveway before she quickly dressed.
As she sat on the hard metal chair waiting for the detective who had been assigned to handle her complaint, Claire regretted not bringing Tristan with her. She tapped her tennis shoe nervously on the tile floor and clutched the brown envelope with the pictures and letters to her chest. She needed to do this herself, and she didn’t want Tristan to know how really terrified she was. This was something she needed to do on her own.
An attractive female detective approached her. “Miss Murray?”
“Yes.” Claire stood and accepted the hand extended to her.
“I’m Detective Salmetti. Please follow me to my office, and we will take down your complaint. Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee, maybe?”
“Yes, please, that would be great,” Claire accepted graciously.
She waited in the small office while the detective retrieved the coffee. Plaques of special recognition hung on the walls behind the desk. Claire admired the picture of a teenage boy sitting next to a little girl, noticing that they both strongly favored the detective.
“Those are my kids,” Salmetti said as she entered the room.
“They’re beautiful,” Claire responded.
“Yes, I think so, too, when I look at that picture, but when I get home and see what they’ve done to my house, I tend to look at them differently.” The detective chuckled as she took her seat.
“I’ve been informed that you have someone stalking you, Miss 131
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Murray. May I have a look at the pictures?” Salmetti asked, getting down to business.
Claire passed the envelope over the desk with shaking hands.
“These are the originals. You can keep them. I’ve made copies, as well. As I’ve stated in my report, this has been going on for nearly a year now.”
The detective glanced up at her. “I imagine this has really been a trial for you. Why have you waited so long to report this?”
“When I moved from Houston, I hoped that this would all be over, but this person has followed me here.” Claire took a sip of her coffee and set the steaming cup on the desk when her hands shook too much to hold it.
The detective thumbed through each picture. “How many people have looked at these, besides you and me?”
“My girlfriend has looked at them, but no one else.”
The detective glanced up at her for a split second, then went back to the pictures. “Most of the time, the stalker knows his victim quite well. Do you have someone in mind who you think may be capable of this?”
Claire chewed at her bottom lip. “There is a guy I work with who has been a little pushy about going out with me. My girlfriend suspects it may be him, but I’m not ready to accuse him yet. If I name him, will you question him?”
“This man has continued to pursue you, even after you have made it clear you don’t want to see him?”
“Yes, he has, but to be completely honest, if you question him, it is going to stir up a lot of controversy at the office, and I have just taken this job.”
“Miss Murray, that is a risk I think you ought to take. Perhaps if we will talk to him, he will lay off, even if he isn’t the one who has been stalking you.”
The detective set the pictures down on her desk and leaned back slightly in her chair, crossing her legs. “You’ve mentioned having a girlfriend twice. Is this woman someone who happens to be just a friend, or is she your lover?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
The detective smiled. “There are two reasons I ask. First, if you are a lesbian, you are accustomed to controversy, and I think you will be able to handle the fallout when we question your co-132