39 | The Stalker

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The next day, I sit in front of a police officer. A short, pudgy man in his early forties with a couple of gray streaks in his hair. He inspects my ID and types away on his computer.

Beside me, Aunt Abbie taps her fingers on her knees impatiently. After explaining everything to her last night, she doesn't waste any time. I barely had any breakfast before she drove us both straight to the police station early in the morning. Once here, she hands over all the threat mails we have been receiving, including the text I've received on my phone.

The questions keep coming. "Miss, have you seen the man before?"

"Yes, but I didn't get a good look at his face. He's always wearing a hoodie or a cap."

"Any suspects in mind? Do you think you would know him?"

"No."

"Any recent breakups? Seventy percent of the stalking cases we've dealt with are usually because of their exes."

I shake my head. "My boyfriend was with me on the day we met him."

The officer lets out one long sigh and squints at me. "This seems rather difficult. We will need to collect more evidence. I'll arrange for someone to check the CCTVs."

Aunt Abbie's patience is drying up. More so because one of her kids is being threatened. "What more do you guys need? This is obviously a case of stalking!"

"Calm down, Ma'am." He sounds almost bored, perhaps because he has dealt with people and cases every day that he seems unfazed by our anxiety. "We understand your concern. However, we need more clues in order to pinpoint this man's location and identity. In the meantime, you may look into applying for a protection order. Once we have his identity, you will need to fill up this form and await the date of your assigned court hearing."

Aunt Abbie takes the paper and pen, frowning as she scans the words. "How long do you think you guys will take to catch him? The protection order is pretty much useless if we don't know who exactly he is."

"Don't worry, ma'am. We'll catch him," he assures her calmly. "To put your mind at ease, we will dispatch a couple of officers to patrol around your house a few times each day, just in case. In the meantime—" he gestures towards me, "—this little lady needs to be careful at all times. Best if she stays at home most of the time."

Aunt Abbie presses her lips together and exchanges a look with me. From the look on her face, I know she will not let me out of sight until we catch whoever this guy is.

We complete the paperwork before leaving the police station. In the parking lot, Aunt Abbie answers a couple of work calls as we get into the car and pull out onto the main road. Once she ends her call, I blurt out a question.

"Did Mom ever, well, tell you she was facing troubles?"

Aunt Abbie's face falls. Crestfallen. "Not much. We used to be very close, but after I got married and had Judy, we didn't speak as much. Knowing Ava, she doesn't like to depend on others," my aunt sighs. "But I wish I had paid more attention to her then. That's the one thing I regret in life—not being there for her."

"Don't say that," I tell her quietly. "You're doing everything you can for her already. She wouldn't have blamed you for anything."

My aunt gives me a weak smile. "You think so?"

"I do." To prove my words, I reach over to give her a hug. "The Best Aunt Award goes to you."

She laughs. "You forgot one more word—overprotective. I know I can be overbearing, but I'm going to put extra locks in the house. Better safe than sorry. And you're going to have to carry pepper spray around with you. Works only if you aim it in the eyes. I would totally give you a taser if I can get my hands on one."

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