Exiting Debbie

What kind of sick person sent a cocker spaniel puppy as a present? Judi stopped, her hand resting on the knob of the security door that separated reception from the rest of the offices. 

         Tania, one of the receptionists was on her knees, wiggling her fingers at the puppy who was bouncing around in the wicker basket on the floor by the desk.

         “Debbie!” Tania squealed, using the name Judi had given the company when she was hired. She wasn’t actually Judi. It was too dangerous to be Judi.  “Look! She’s for you!”

         “For me?” Judi was instantly wary, her gaze darting to the heavy glass doors that lead to the parking lot.

         “Yeah. Some guy dropped her off, said he’d see you at home later.” Tania looked up at Judi. “He was handsome.” She frowned. “But he said your name was… Judi?”

         “He must have been mistaken.” Judi delivered the denial briskly. “And I don’t even like dogs. I have no idea what this is about.”

         “Oh he knew it was you,” Tania insisted. “He had a picture of you on his cell phone. He said he took it of you the other night when you were sleeping.” She giggled. “He said you looked so peaceful he couldn’t resist.”

         Cold chills coursed up her legs, settling into the depths of her belly, reaching up to snake frozen tendrils around her heart. “What… what colour was the pillowcase?” she asked. “I know it’s a silly question, but Tania can you please answer it?” She changed her sheets once a week.

         “It looked like the picture was taken last week – the day you got your hair cut,” Tania said, “You looked so cute after.”

         She’d gotten her hair cut nine days ago. He’d known she was here for nine days. It was already too late.

         “Debbie, are you okay?” Tania asked, “Is something wrong? Was that guy… are you being stalked?” The younger woman managed to sound both thrilled and concerned at the same time.

         “Someone… he’s someone from my past.” Even telling Tania that much was putting her in danger.

         “I should put the building in lockdown,” Tania said. “Call the police.” She reached for the button on the side of the desk. It would lock all the doors to the building and sound an alarm. That was the last thing Judi wanted.

         “No, don’t do the panic button,” Judi said, “Please.” 

         “I still think I should call the police,” Tania said. “I’d feel better if I did. And they can find a home for the puppy too… you’re sure you don’t want it?”

         “I told you, I don’t like dogs,” Judi lied.

         “Well wait here and I’ll call the police. You should fill in a police report,” Tania said.

         “I’ll go wait in my office,” Judi said. “I have calls to make. Page me when they get here and they can come interview me in my office.”

         Tania nodded, returning to her desk after giving the puppy another pat. “She is really cute,” Tania said.

         “Maybe they’ll let you keep her,” Judi suggested. She let the security door slam shut behind her. She didn’t have much time. 

         She retrieved her jacket from her office and a wallet she had stashed at the back of her bottom filing cabinet drawer, well out of the reach of nosy cleaners. She supposed she’d always known it would come down to this – a mid-day flight from her office. 

         She jammed the wallet deep into the pocket of her jacket. It contained a wad of cash – not a lot, but enough for a start. She had a drivers’ license and birth certificate in there as well. When she got the chance, she’d have to see what her new name was. Hopefully something more exotic than ‘Debbie’. 

         She tucked her work badge and the key fob that let her in and out of the building back in the drawer. She knew they could use an app to find her if she left  the building. She wasn’t going to be needing it. It was sad. She liked this job and the people here. It wasn’t worth jeopardizing their safety or hers for the sake of a paycheck and the Thursday night trivia game at the pub. 

         She took her cell phone. She had two very important things to do with it and then her exit from ‘Debbie’ would be complete.

         Several co-workers were heading out the back door for a break and she slipped out with them. Someone else’s fob was her ticket out.

         She had to keep moving. She felt restless, nervous energy making her jittery. He could be outside. He could be anywhere. She had to keep moving.

         The number she needed was stored in her phone. Paul had call display. He would know.

         “Judi.”

         She teared up at the sound of her former name. 

         “He’s here.” She had to keep this short. She began walking towards the road, looking at each car as it passed, wary, ready to jump, to run if any of them showed signs of slowing down.

         “How--“

         “I don’t know but he is. He has a picture of me sleeping.” She repeated it. “He. Has. A. Picture. Of. Me. Sleeping.”

         “When?” She heard him opening his notebook, the click of a ballpoint pen as he poised to take notes.

         “Last week. I’m leaving. I can’t wait for you and I won’t wait around for him.”

         “Judi… we can keep you—”

         “No you can’t!” She cut him off, her voice raising and trembling. She saw a group of her co-workers who had slipped outside on their break looking over at her and she lowered her voice, turning so they couldn’t see her face. “You can’t. This is the third time, Paul. You can’t keep me safe. You couldn’t keep any of the others safe. And now he’s coming for me again.”

         “Judi—”

         She paused, relishing the sound of her name again. “I’m going,” she said. “I’m going on my own. Thanks for trying Detective Johnson, but I have to do this.” Before he could say anything else, before she could lose her resolve, she disconnected.

         She used the ride sharing app to call for a car. It said there was one just around the corner. By the look of the position on the map, it was in the graveyard beside her office. 

         She hesitated. What if he was hiding there? She had to find a way out of here somehow. She had to keep moving and she had to do the unexpected, keep him off-kilter.

         By the time she got up the long driveway, she was slightly out of breath. There was only one car in the graveyard. It belonged to a co worker. She felt tension ease out of her shoulders. He wasn’t some puppy-sending psycho – he was just sweet and goofy Glen who she played trivia with every Thursday night and occasionally ate lunch with her. 

         He was staring out of his windshield. She tapped lightly on his driver side window and he gave a hoarse cry, his hands flailing helplessly for a few seconds until he regained composure and opened the door.

         “I didn’t know you were an Uber.” She held up her phone to show him the app.

         “I didn’t know you needed an Uber.” He was trying to joke but he was pale and his hands were shaking when he put them on the steering wheel.

         “Are you okay?” She could look for another car, but time was running out.

         “Yeah.” He smiled unconvincingly at her. “So, you need a ride, lady?”

         “Yes.”

         “Shouldn’t you be at work?” he asked.

         “Shouldn’t you?” she countered.

         “Point taken. Come on, get in.”  She slid into the back seat after looking at the door to make sure it had handles and that the child lock wasn’t set. 

         “So, where to?” he asked.

         “Anywhere else,” she said.

         “Happy to oblige.” He put the car in gear. He cocked his head at the rising wail of approaching police sirens. “Are those for you?”

         “No,” she answered. “But…  go the other way… just… just in case…”

         “All right,” he said agreeably. “Just let me do one thing.” He rolled down his window and threw his cell phone out. She quickly did the same thing.

         He raised his head, his gaze meeting hers in the rearview mirror, but he said nothing.

         “Is Timmins good for you?” It was a nine-hour drive away. It would do for a start. Most importantly, she didn’t know anybody there. If it was good enough for Shania Twain, it was good enough for her.

         “Yes,” she said, “Who do you know in Timmins?”

         “Nobody,” he said, “That’s the point.”

         He stopped to buy coffees for both of them. She insisted on paying. They drove in silence, leaving the staid town of London behind.  With every kilometre, Judi felt more relaxed. 

         “So,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “I get the feeling we have ugly stories to tell.”

         She looked out the window at the bleak landscape sliding by. She dipped her chin into what passed for a nod. 

         “So are we going to talk about it?” he asked.

         “Later,” she said. “We’re still too close.”

         When dusk fell, they weren’t at Timmins yet. They still had several hours to go but Glen didn’t want to keep driving. They found a little motel well off the beaten track. Judi offered to pay for rooms for them both. It was the least she could do – he was helping her flee without knowing what he was getting himself into.

         “I’d prefer if we stayed in a room together,” he said, looking down a bit shyly. “There’s safety in numbers.”

         Her stalker wouldn’t be looking for a couple. He would assume she had fled on her own again. 

         Judi gave Glen enough money to rent the room and she waited in the car while he paid. 

         The room was not an end unit, which made her feel safer. Glen parked in front of the unit. The room was very cheaply furnished with threadbare carpeting, one rickety chair and a double bed with a paisley yellow and brown bedspread.

         “I could sleep in the bathtub,” he offered. 

         Judi had been attracted to Glen for some time. They had flirted a bit on trivia nights and had her life remained normal, she could have seen herself dating him eventually. But her life was far from normal and she didn’t know how much time she had left. Her hand found his and their fingers entwined. She leaned in closer to whisper. “I think we’ll both fit in the bed…”

         Instead of the slow, sweet exploratory lovemaking so celebrated in sweeping romantic epics, their first time was frantic, awkward and punctuated by giggles and the occasional clumsy hair pull. He paused when he saw the jagged scar on her shoulder that ran almost down to her hip and kissed a slow trail along it before resuming his previous pace.

         She liked making love to him. She liked him. She hoped they would both live long enough to continue.

         He quietly asked her about the scar afterwards. “Is that why you’re running away?”

         She nodded, taking a deep breath. It was time to let him know. 

“I’m one of the only survivors of a serial killer,” she said. “It was when I was living in Brighton in Michigan. Some guy was going around killing girls with long brown hair.” She ran her hand through her short blonde curls. “Back then I fit the bill. I’ve kept it like this ever since… ever since it happened. I was on my way home from work and he came out of the bushes at me. He… he slashed at me with the knife and I just ran like crazy, screaming until I found help. They never found him.” She looked up at the ceiling. “But he found me. Two years later. I’d gotten police protection and moved to another state, cut my hair, changed my name. Bought a dog. Sadie.” She closed her eyes, trying to blink away the memory. “He… he took her…” She sighed. “And I moved to Canada. Bought a dog… a bigger dog. Birdie.” She shook her head slowly.

         “He took her too?” Glen guessed.

         “So then I moved to London a year ago. Got a job. Didn’t get a dog, but got a great alarm system. The best in the world. He was in my apartment nine nights ago. Took a picture of me sleeping. Sent a dog to the office today. So I’d know he’d found me again…”

         “Oh Debbie…”

         She shook her head.  “My name isn’t Debbie. It’s Judi. And come tomorrow morning it’ll be Sheila.” She’d looked at the new ID on the long drive from London. “Sheila Rogers.”

         “Well that’s a name,” he said cautiously.

         “It’s a stupid name,” she responded, “But it’s not Judi and that’s all that matters.”

         “Well tonight you can be Judi,” he promised.

         “So what are you running from?” she asked him. “Ex girlfriend?”

         “I think… I think we might be running from the same person… When I was eighteen, in Brighton, England… which is where I grew up… It was just me and my mom. Never met my dad,” he added. 

Judi nodded. He’d always had a bit of an exotic accent she’d found attractive.

“I had this girlfriend. Her name was Judith. She had long brown hair. The night of the big formal dance we had a bit of a… well just a stupid argument really but I ended up taking her home early. She was mad, said she wanted to walk. Made me drop her off two blocks from home. She didn’t make it. She was stabbed. Police thought it was me.   The only clue they had was the killer had signed his name in her blood. ‘Al’. My name isn’t Glen – it’s Allan. They didn’t have enough to charge me, but I was finished. It’s not that big a town and everyone figured I’d gotten away with murder. I came to Canada as soon as I could. Chose London because it sounded English enough. And bad things happened to my dogs. One in England and one here. Today I got an email sent from my home email address. It was a picture of my front room – but there was someone on my couch and the subject line was ‘Waiting for you’. So I decided to bail.”

         Judi stared at him. “What are the odds?” she asked.

         “The timeline kind of fits, I think. I’m a bit older than you are, I think…”

         She nodded. “Even if it’s not the same guy, it’s super creepy both of us being stalked. Do you think we’re safe together?”

         “Well this way one of us can keep watch while the other sleeps…” he said.

         “Why don’t you sleep first?” she suggested, noting his eyes were drooping. It had been a long ride and they had another one tomorrow. She was too keyed up to sleep.

         “Don’t have to tell me twice. If we’re in danger of being gruesomely murdered, please do me the courtesy of waking me up.” 

         Once he was asleep, she decided to get out of the bed. It was lumpy and uncomfortable and she could use a shower after their vigorous nocturnal activities. She would have to buy more clothes tomorrow. 

         She felt refreshed after a shower in the pitted bathtub. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of getting dressed again in today’s clothes, but she didn’t have another choice. 

         Dressed again she went out into the room, thinking about lying down with Allan and seeing if she could even just doze a bit.

         Allan was gone.

         “Allan?” She called his name cautiously in case he was just somewhere else in the room, illogical though it seemed. “Allan?”

         He didn’t answer, but she heard a car door closing outside. Hopefully he wasn’t running out on her.

         She opened the door to their motel room, scanning the parking lot carefully. She didn’t see anyone, and she was relieved to see the car was still there. 

         The trunk to the car was open. That wasn’t good.

         She looked from the open trunk back to the relative safety of the motel room, then back to the car. She didn’t know what to do. What if Allan was hurt? She had to go check on him. She owed him that much.

         She made it to the trunk without seeing anyone else. The trunk light was on, illuminating the interior. There was no blood-soaked corpse – but there was a cardboard box. Neatly lettered on the box was the name, “Knechtel, Allan.” She flipped the top off the box, not sure she would like what she saw.

         It was full of clinical files, all about ‘Knechtel, Allan’. She grabbed one at random and began reading it. It read like every other criminal history she’d read in her career as a social worker – fire setting at a young age, animal torture, the disappearance of his girlfriend Judith when he was fifteen…

         Was Allan her stalker? Had she walked right into his arms? How could she be so stupid?

         “He lied,” she said aloud.

         “Oh come now, are you really surprised he did?”

         She turned in shock to see a man standing beside her. It was Allan – as he would look in twenty years. “You’re… where…” She backed up a step. 

         “I see you found the reading I brought.” He nodded t the box in the trunk. “I thought I’d have time to share it with Allan but he came out early. Surprised me.” 

         Everything dropped into place with horrid reality. Allan was being stalked by his father. And so was she. 

         “Allan? Oh Allan won’t be joining us…” He reached out, his blood stained hand seizing her arm and yanking her off balance. “But I’m looking forward to you joining him…”