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“That’s gonna be tricker,” replies the officer.
“Why?”
“We have an officer with him. We see texts back and forth to a number but we’ve dealt with these types of numbers before. They’re not a number you get from a phone company. They’re internet numbers, linked to accounts in foreign countries. Their calls bounce off encrypted servers. And the problem is that so far, he’s staying mute on who’s pulling the strings.”
“My ex is really wealthy,” I say, causing Grey to look in my direction for a moment. “And his family is powerful.”
“I want him to talk,” replies Grey, his hand wrapping tightly around mine.
“Not gonna be easy,” counters the officer. “We may be able to get him on an assault charge because of the knife, but he could argue self-defense in the circumstances. It’d be tricky. And he didn’t actually break in the door of your house,” the officer says to me, his large dark-brown eyes brimming with the kind of compassion I didn’t experience when I made my complaint about the powerful Micah in DC.
“What about his messages to the other person? Did they say anything incriminating?”
The office looks down before speaking. “We believe the goal was… to watch you. And toscareyou.”
As the officer says the word, Grey’s grip on my hand tightens so strongly that it begins to hurt. I glance at his profile, stern, rageful, his eyes locked onto the policeman.
“And they won’t look into the origin?”
“We’ll try, but I already know we need experts on this and there’s no budget for that when there’s no crime. Technically staring into someone’s home, even with the messages, is not enough to bring charges.”
“I guess we’re supposed to wait until I get killed or something?” I suggest, breathless from exasperation.
The officer nods his head. “I hear that a lot from women in your situation. If I could change the law, I would. The reality is that without a crime, most stalkers keep getting away with it.”
I nod. I already know the statistics on arrest never mind conviction.
“I spoke to my ex on the phone. He’s in jail. He was careful about what he said but he did threaten to ruin the wedding I’m attending here. They’d record that, wouldn’t they?”
The officer nods.
“Is that enough?”
“We’d have to link them together. If this guy thinks he’d be better off not talking, such as if your ex is paying him a lot of money, then we’re at a bit of a dead end. But…” He smiles, his cocoa skin plumping on his cheeks as he sits up in his chair. “The good news is, folks… He’s on parole. There was meth on him. The knife. Even if he doesn’t talk, he’ll be in jail for a while. He’s got another three years left for breaking parole. He’ll either talk or he’ll be out of your hair for a while.”
“Thank God,” I shudder.
“He’ll be back in front of a judge the second he’s out of hospital.”
I clutch my hand to my chest, shivering from relief.
I try to smile as he shoots me a warm, “I’ll do what I can to help, Indigo,” before leaving the room.
Feeling Grey’s eyes on me, I pivot a little to see his chest rising and falling quickly.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Why didn’t you tell me about those messages? How bad they were?”
“Because… I hate people reading them, and… I don’t like making people worry for nothing.” I sigh. “Maybe I need to rethink my strategy.”
He breathes out audibly, his uninjured hand still gripping mine with a force I’m not sure he’s really aware of. “I’ll speak to the Washington DA again tomorrow.”
“Again?”
“I spoke to him this morning.”
“What… How?”
