Just This Once (37 page)
The
Escape to New Zealand
series
JUST THIS ONCE
Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.,
http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com/
Please, please, don’t let him get in. Don’t make me have
to do this. Please, somebody help me.
Kate Lamonica crouched under her kitchen table, the worn
yellow linoleum cold under her bare feet, and prayed. She shifted her weight,
lurched a bit to one side as her knee caught in the fabric of her fleece robe.
That wasn’t going to work. She had to be able to move. Forcing herself to move
deliberately, not to panic, she set the big knife down carefully on the seat of
the chair beside her. Pulled her right arm out of the robe. Shifted her silent
cell phone to her right hand with a quick movement, held it to her ear again.
Shrugged her left arm out and shoved the bulky robe aside. The brightly printed
red poppies on the fabric gleamed at the edge of her vision, incongruously
cheerful in the dim light. She transferred the phone back to her left hand,
picked up her knife again with the right, feeling better once it was back in
her hand. Ready to use.
She was shivering a little now, her pajamas no match for the
chill of the early February morning. Still no sound from outside, or from the
phone in her hand. She lifted it from her ear to check the display. Her call
was still connected. And she was still on hold. How could 911 put somebody on
hold?
Pick up,
she prayed. But the phone remained silent.
No competent voice offering protection. No help at all. Instead, the sounds
she’d been dreading. The rattle of the kitchen door handle, and Paul’s voice
calling to her.
“I know you’re in there, Kate. Don’t make me have to come
get you. That’s only going to make it worse for you.”
She visualized again what she would do if he broke in. She’d
wait until he was close. Then burst out from under the table in one movement,
launch herself at him, and strike. Nothing tentative. No hesitation. Because if
he made it in here, she was in real trouble. She had to take her chance. If the
police didn’t come, she was going to have to save herself.
“I never wanted to hurt you, you know that. I loved you.
But you’ve let me down so many times. You haven’t given me any choice.”
She knew how he’d look to the arriving officers. If they
ever came. His pressed slacks and button-down shirt, every blond hair in place.
His easy smile, his plausible explanations. His insistence that she was the one
with the problem, the vendetta against him.
Silence, then a
clunk
as something heavy dropped on
the concrete slab. She could feel her heart knocking against her chest wall as
she heard a scrape, then the sound of metal on metal against the door frame.
She stared out from under the table as if she could see around the corner,
through the door. Her hand tightened around the knife as her mind went over and
over the scenario. Leap. Rush. Slash.
“911. What is your emergency?” The phone in her hand came to
life at last. She started at the sudden noise in her ear, banging her head
painfully against the bottom of the table. Juggled the phone for desperate
moments. Forced herself to answer calmly as her eyes stayed trained on a
kitchen door she couldn’t see.
“I need the police. 2111 Fifth Street. Apartment B. I have
an intruder. He’s threatened me, and he’s trying to break in now.”
“Is he on the property now?” the dispatcher asked,
maddeningly calm.
“
Yes.
I just told you. Her voice sounded unnaturally
high in her ears. “He’s trying to break in, through my kitchen door. It’s the
ground floor. Around the side.”
Her breath was coming in gasps now. She fought to control
it, but the fear was rising into panic now. “Are you sending them? Are they
coming?”
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” the calm voice reassured. “I’ve
dispatched a unit. Stay on the line with me. Don’t hang up.”
Finally, the blessed sound of a siren in the distance. And
Paul’s voice through the door again.
“You shouldn’t have called them. You’ve only made it harder
for yourself. Because I’ll be coming back for you. You can try to run, but you
know that I’ll find you in the end. There’s nowhere you can hide that I won’t
find you.”
She remained in her painful crouch, kept her grip on her
knife and her phone, unable to trust that he’d really left. She had to be
ready. Just in case. When she finally heard the knock, a deep voice
reassuringly unlike Paul’s identifying himself, it was a struggle to pull
herself out from under the table. Her limbs were so stiff with tension and
fright that she could barely uncoil them, and she was shaking with the
aftereffects of adrenaline.
By the time the sympathetic officers had walked her to her
car, checked the back seat, and watched her lock her doors, she was shaking
again, but with fury as well as fear now. She followed their car to the
station, then parked in front of the building and tried to decide what to do.
She couldn’t afford the luxury of denial anymore. Paul would be back. He might
even be at her apartment again by now, waiting for her. She’d been lucky this
time. But he only had to get lucky once. And meanwhile, she’d be living every
day in fear. Moving from friend to friend, sleeping on couches, looking over
her shoulder.
Screw this, she thought fiercely. She was done. Whatever it
took, however much it cost her, she was getting out of this. Running somewhere
he couldn’t find her. To some distant place where she could live her life
normally again. In peace.
The line for Passport Control snaked and twisted, tired
passengers waiting obediently, shuffling forward one slow foot at a time. Kate
felt disoriented and dizzy with fatigue. Maybe it was the overnight flight, or
the speed of the decisions she’d made over the past week, but her mind seemed
to be lagging several steps behind reality right now. It kept drifting off,
forcing her to bring it back again. To remind herself where she was, what she
was doing.
“You’re going
where?”
her father had demanded a few
days earlier, arriving home to find her packing.
“New Zealand,” she repeated patiently. “I’ve bought my
ticket, and I leave the day after tomorrow.”
“Surely this can’t be necessary,” her mother objected.
“Couldn’t you find a new job and a new place to live, maybe in a different
city? Or even stay here with us for a while. You know how happy we’d be to have
you, to know you were safe.”
“That’s just it, though,” Kate tried to explain. “I don’t
think I would be safe, or that you would be either. It’s only a matter of time
before Paul turns up here looking for me. I hate knowing I’m putting you at
risk, even being here a few days. I wouldn’t have come at all if I’d known
where else to go.”
“I hope he does turn up,” her father said grimly. “I’d know
how to deal with him.”
“You can’t sit on the porch with a shotgun on your lap
twenty-four hours a day, Dad,” Kate sighed. “I know you want to protect me, but
it isn’t possible. Not for more than a couple days. Which is all that I’m
staying.”
“Besides,” she said, sitting down wearily on the familiar,
narrow bed of her childhood and hugging an embroidered cushion to her for
comfort, “I can’t live like this anymore. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I could
move to a new state, or even someplace else in California, and this would be
over. Maybe he wouldn’t find me. Who knows, maybe he’d even give up. But I
don’t think so. Stalkers are obsessive. It’s what they do. Everything he’s
said, everything I’ve learned tells me I’m in danger. And I can’t live like
this anymore,” she said again, tears filling her eyes. “I just can’t. It’s too
much.”
Her mother sat down next to her and put an arm around her
shoulders. “You need to do whatever it is that’s going to keep you safe. And
make you feel safe, too. You know we want what’s best for you. And if that
means moving to New Zealand, well, that’s the way it is. We’ll help any way we
can.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Kate blinked the tears away and gave her
mother a fierce hug. “You guys are the best. Love you so much.”
“Who is this Hannah, though, in New Zealand?” her father
persisted. “Is she somebody who can help you once you’re there? She doesn’t
sound like she’s been in the country all that long herself.”
“Only a couple years,” Kate agreed. “She was a work friend.
Before she moved to New Zealand, of course. Even though it’s been a while, she
offered to help right away when I called. She seems pretty confident that she
and her husband can help me find a job. He’s a big deal over there, apparently.
A rugby player.”
“How’s a rugby player going to help you find a job as an
accountant?” her father objected.
“I’m not quite sure myself, to tell you the truth,” Kate
admitted. “But Hannah was positive. It seemed like my best bet, and I’m going
to take it.”
“And they’ll put you up for a few days when you arrive?” her
mother asked. “I don’t like to think of you getting to a strange country and
being on your own.”
“They do speak English, you know, Mom,” Kate reminded her.
“I’ll be fine. Better off than I am here, that’s for sure. Who knows, it might
even be fun.”
The brave words seemed foolish now, in the echoing, alien
territory of the arrivals hall. Her international travel experience was limited
to a single trip to Canada. What was she doing here? Reaching the front of the
line at last, she handed her passport with its two lonely stamps to an immigration
officer.
“Working holiday visa,” he commented. “What are you
planning to do whilst you’re here?”
“Accounting, I hope,” she told him.
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s one I don’t hear every day,
have to say. Beats kiwifruit picking, I’m sure.” He stamped her passport firmly
and handed it back to her. “Best of luck to you. And welcome to New Zealand.”
By the time she had collected the two suitcases that
contained all she had brought with her from her old life and made her way
through various stops to the arrivals area, Kate was overwhelmed. The huge
space, the crowds, the instructions given in a clipped accent barely
intelligible in her exhausted state had all taken their toll. When she pushed
her luggage cart through the automatic doors and saw Hannah waiting, she
couldn’t help the tears that spilled over as her friend folded her into
welcoming arms.
“Oh, sweetie. What a tough time you’ve had. I’m so glad
you’re here.” Hannah pulled a Kleenex out of her purse and handed it to Kate as
she continued to cry. “Come on,” she urged. “We’ll get you a coffee, and then
we’ll take you home. You’re going to feel so much better after a shower, I
promise.”
Kate wiped her eyes. “Sorry. I’m better now. What a first
impression.” She reached out to shake hands with the big man standing beside
her friend. “Hi. You must be Drew. It’s so good of you to agree to help me like
this. You don’t even know me, and here I am intruding on your life. I can’t
tell you how much I appreciate it.”
“No worries.” He smiled down at her easily. “We invited you,
didn’t we. Tell you the truth, you’re doing me a favor as well. I’m off to Safa
tomorrow for a couple weeks. I’m glad you’ll be here with Hannah. I wasn’t
happy about leaving her alone that long.”
“South Africa,” Hannah translated. “Road trip. Two games in
a row. And don’t worry, you’ll figure out what they’re saying eventually.”
“I hope it won’t be too much for you, having me,” Kate said,
eyeing Hannah with concern.
“I’m pregnant, not sick,” Hannah countered. “And perfectly
healthy, despite how fragile Drew appears to think I am.” She looked at her
husband with affection as he took Kate’s trolley over her objections. “Let him
push it,” she counseled Kate. “We both know you could do it. But it’ll make him
much happier.”
Once they were on their way into the city, Hannah turned in
her seat to smile at Kate again. “I can’t wait to go look at flats with you.
I’ve already started setting up visits for Saturday. There are so many great
neighborhoods here. I’m sure we’ll be able to find you something that suits
you. You’re going to love it.”
“They say converts make the best missionaries,” Drew put in.
“Reckon Hannah’s proof of that. Best cheerleader En Zed could have.”
“I’m glad to hear it’s a good place to live, though,” Kate
said. “Because I’m not sure how long I’ll be here. I just hope I can get a job
fairly quickly.”
“I’ve already got the word out,” Drew assured her. “She’ll
be right.”
“And believe me, he’s connected,” Hannah said. “Between the
two of us, we’ll have you employed before you know it. You’ll probably wish you
had a longer break.”
“I guess this would be all right.” Kate eyed the dark little
flat dubiously.
“No way,” Hannah told her firmly. “Too gloomy. We can do
better than this.”
“This is a good neighborhood, Mt. Eden,” she told Kate as
they settled back into the car. “But that was the wrong flat. And you’d have
quite a bus ride—or drive, of course—to the beach. Which isn’t ideal.”
“I’ve always just hoped to live someplace that didn’t
actually have drive-bys,” Kate said. “I don’t think I’m in any position to turn
something down because it isn’t on the beach.”
“Sure you are,” Hannah countered. “Maybe you won’t be able
to walk there. But we can get you closer than this.”
“That would be a big plus. Are all the beaches as nice as where
we swam this morning?”
“Oh yeah. They each have their own character. Just wait.
Soon you’ll think your own beach is the best, and you won’t want to come swim
at mine.”