― Michael Rutger
School for Scandal
Sitting by the fire that night, I had time to reflect. It was Tuesday, only my second day back lecturing at the college. I had accomplished a lot in 48 hours and it was obvious I had been too hard on myself.
It took my old mentor to set me straight and help me see things from a more sane perspective.
I was flawed, yes, but I was a work in progress―hell, I was more forgiving with rough drafts of my novel than I was in judging success of my attempts at reforming my ways.
I wasn't proud of my efforts―I couldn't get that far―but I was encouraged. I put myself out there, taking risks regardless, and that was something.
A notification popped up on my laptop screen―a message from an unknown sender. My heart sank. I had been hoping my stalker might finally lose interest and depart. Apparently, no such luck:
Well Liam, are you proud of yourself―cowering in a corner afraid of being bitch slapped by real men?
You're pathetic. Imagine, a thirty-five year old man, who doesn't know how to be an adult, seeking advice from an old priest who knows nothing about women. Wow! Talk about arrested development...
Oh, and that young female student you fantasize is in love with you? Don't delude yourself. She's bragging to her friends how she's jerking you around like some kind of puppet. Why just today, she was sitting in the Human Bean Coffee Shop telling her friends she was going to wear a tight sweater and mini skirt tomorrow and made bets you wouldn't be able to take your eyes off her.
Anyway, here's the deal. You might have police protection but your friends don't. Quinn doesn't, nor the old priest―hell, not even that little tease in your lecture. If you don't resign and go back into hiding, you'll be putting all those people in danger.
You've been warned.
I closed the laptop and barely made it to the washroom to puke. I was down on all fours hugging the ceramic bowl and trembling. I could risk endangering myself but never anticipated such a direct threat of violence against those associated with me.
How could things turn out so badly?
I didn't want to leave the college―I was honestly enjoying lecturing and rejoining society. But if it meant choosing my happiness over endangering other people, I could see no other alternative.
Then it hit me―I needed to run this by Matt Baker―he's the criminal analyst. Why was I trying to work this out on my own?
I phoned and told him I needed help. He was at my door in fifteen minutes.
"Well, you've learned an important lesson about stalkers, Liam," he advised, "you just can't ignore menacing behaviour and hope your attacker will go away. That never happens."
"So what do you suggest?"
"I suggest you don't give in to the stalker's demands. Whoever it is wants to ruin your life and destroy your career. We'll do our best to protect the three people that were clearly targeted, but they also have to be notified that they're in possible danger and have to be vigilant."
My heart sank. "Do you know how embarrassing this is―especially, involving a student? Surely the College will insist I place myself on administrative leave while the matter is being investigated."
"I've already spoken to Clio Carmichael when I assigned a security detail to shadow you. She's aware of the risks but knows this kind of blackmail could be used to target other university personnel and wants it resolved as quickly as possible."
"So then, what is your gut telling you about my attacker?"
He sighed. "Look Liam, we figure your stalker is either an acquaintance who poses a 50% risk of violence, or an intimate stalker who's far more dangerous with a 75 % risk to you or your associates."
I was totally shocked. "You can't be serious. All this time I was picturing a stranger, someone who harasses public figures or even a blackmailer who just wants to extort me, but you're saying it could be someone intimately involved with me?"
He nodded, "Involved with you now or in your past. All the messages are up close and personal as if they're reading your mail. It's someone really close and with a strong motive. If I were you I'd take a close look at my friends."
"My 'friends?', I hissed sarcastically. "You mean the half dozen people I've stayed in touch with and who probably only see me out of pity? Why the hell would any of them want to harm me?"
"It's the old saw, my friend, who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? Don't take it so personally thinking you're the problem. Clio Carmichael views it as a possible extortion plot against the whole college. We're extending our protective coverage to the small group of your acquaintances, but you need only inform the three people directly mentioned."
After Matt left, I was somewhat reassured my small circle of acquaintances would be protected, but I was particularly worried about how to go about informing Jana, my student, especially since she had been identified as playing me and mocking me to her peers.
I had no idea whether or not this was true and how much I should disclose. I resolved to simply treat the situation on a need to know basis. Jana needed to know about possible danger and to not put herself in risky situations. Anything beyond this would simply embarrass both of us.
I was mortified to have to air my dirty laundry in public and it was probably the reason my stalker chose to attack me in the first place.
I was such a loser. No wonder things in my life always had a way of turning out so badly.
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