The Smell Of Blood – Part 7

The police response time was admirable. Ellen, still shaking, let them in and they all sat down together and she told them the story from the beginning. Writing diligently in his little notebook one officer nodded sympathetically as his partner asked the pertinent questions.

Looking through the blinds in the bedroom at the street they seemed unimpressed and shrugged as Ellen stood by.

“Miss, we’ll take this in for fingerprinting and we’ll let you know if we find anything. I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do at the moment. We’ll talk to your friend about last Friday night, but unless we can get a print that could connect this guy to the note we really don’t have anything to go on. Following someone isn’t a crime in and of itself.”

Ellen nodded dully and thanked them for coming, locking the door after them. Trudging back to the bedroom feeling empty she couldn’t imagine how she was going to get to sleep let alone make it to work the following day.

Waking with a pounding headache the next morning she swallowed two aspirin and got herself dressed and onto the bus. Gazing out the window absently she couldn’t stop thinking about that horrible note, tormenting herself with vivid imaginings.

Moving through the office to her desk people glanced at her but seemed to turn away as if they knew something was wrong and they didn’t want any part of it. She could hardly blame them.

Sitting in the break room in the afternoon watching a cup of coffee go cold her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Ms. Addams, officer Conner, we met last night.”

“Yes, hello.”

“The results are back and I’m afraid there are no prints on the note or envelope other than your own. Not that we expected there would be, mind you, the sort of person who would write such at thing would usually take precautions.”

Saying nothing, Ellen stared at the wall and waited.

“Um, we’ll have a patrol car canvas your area as often as possible, but other than that there’s nothing more we can do at the moment. Please call me immediately if you see him again. You have the card with my number I gave you?”

“Yes. Thank you officer.”

Ellen rose with a heavy sigh and returned to her work. Near the end of the day she called Anne and told her what had happened.

“My god, Ellen, that’s horrible! Listen, you shouldn’t be alone tonight. Why don’t you come over to my place after work, okay? We can talk and I’ll make dinner. I think it would be good for you.”

“Thanks Anne. Let me think. I have to get back to work. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Passing through the revolving door and onto the street Ellen stood at the kerb trying to decide what to do. Numbness pervaded her and nothing registered. Dialling Anne’s number she tried to think of what to say.

“Hi Anne. I…yeah, I guess I’ll head over to your place. See you soon.”

Dropping the phone into her purse absent-mindedly she missed and it clattered against the pavement and bounced into the traffic lane just as a bus pulled up. The sound of the plastic casing splintering was nearly drowned out by the hiss of the brakes.

Standing and staring dumbfounded tears welled up and she began walking to escape all the looks she was drawing. Flushed and crying she hurried down the street completely oblivious to the dark clad man who had been watching her intently and now followed at a leisurely pace.

Part 8 Tomorrow

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