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I force a smile as Sarah giggles, seemingly excited by the change in plans.
Taking a sharp right, I leave the path to her daycare. Then I take a second and a third, weaving my way into a neighborhood and off the busier city roads. The black car follows suit, staying nearly a full block behind without losing us as it somehow matches my every move. Panic starts to rise in my chest as my confidence grows to certainty.
This car is definitely following us.
My fingers fumble for my phone as I make a quick decision. I dial Zoe’s number before holding the phone to my ear.
“Hey, Heidi? Everything alright?” A question she’s asked me more times than I can count since we woke up this morning. But this time, I find I don’t mind.
“Zoe,” I whisper urgently, trying to keep my voice low enough to avoid alarming Sarah, “I think we’re being followed. A black car has been tailing us for about ten minutes now. I don’t know what to do.”
Zoe’s voice comes through the line, steady and reassuring. “Stay calm and go straight to the police station.”
I nod and only recall afterward that she can’t see me. “Okay, I’ll let you know once we’re there.”
With trembling hands, I hang up and focus on the road ahead. My heart pounds in my chest as I make several sharp turns, trying to lose the menacing car as I weave in the general direction of the closest police station I know of. Sarah’s eyes widen as her giggles fade. She seems to sense something is wrong now. I offer her a reassuring smile in the rearview, but it feels weak even to me.
As my eyes shift back to the road, I suddenly find myself in an unfamiliar neighborhood. In my effort to put some distance between me and the car following, I must have taken one too many turns, and now I’m lost. In a panic, I take another sharp turn, and to my astonishment, this time, I think I manage to ditch the black car.
Still, I don’t dare wait around to find out.
I take several more random turns, praying none will bring me back to the same spot where my tail might be lying in wait. Finally, after my fifth clear street, I manage to breathe a sigh of relief. Now I just need to reorient myself so I can go to the police station. Pulling over to the side of the road, I open my Maps app and start to assess the larger area.
To my surprise, I’ve saved a pin just around the corner. And when I click on it, I discover I’m only a few blocks from my first client I’m supposed to meet today. I had intended to head over right after dropping Sarah off.
Biting my lip, I make a flash decision, changing my plan.
I shoot a quick text off to Zoe.
I’ve managedto ditch my stalker and am in the neighborhood of the client I’m supposed to meet. I’m going to ask if Sarah and I can hide there while I call the police. I’ll have them send a car to escort us safely back home. Then you, Sarah, and I are leaving town. I’m not going to mess with whatever psychopaths Maks got himself wrapped up with.
Slippingmy phone back into my pocket without waiting for a response, I take the quick detour around the corner and park in front of my client’s vacant lot. “Sarah, would you like to go to work with Mommy today?” I suggest brightly.
“Okay,” she agrees, her normally enthusiastic self seeming slightly unsettled by my erratic behavior and unusually reckless driving. At least she hasn’t started crying.
Climbing out of the car, I scan the empty area to ensure the black car hasn’t found me. Then I open the back seat to unbuckle Sarah from her car seat. My heart races as I scoop her up in my arms and race toward the restaurant’s open glass front doors.
The restaurant is empty at this early hour, and Mr. Cherny stands behind the host stand, looking preoccupied as he scans something before him, a set of spectacles resting on the tip of his nose.
His eyes lift at our swift approach, and he raises an eyebrow at our unexpected arrival. “Ms. Turner,” he says in his reedy, accented voice as he swipes the glasses off his face and sets them aside. “This is a pleasant surprise. What brings you here so early? Or have I lost track of the time? It can’t be our appointment already.”
He glances down at his watch as if to ensure he isn’t mistaken.
I offer a strained smile, trying to hide the fear lurking beneath the surface. “Not at all. I’m really sorry, Mr. Cherny,” I start, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up my neck. “I am absolutely here too early, and I don’t usually bring my daughter to work, I assure you. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t urgent, but I need your help.”
“Your daughter?” he says, his eyes flitting to Sarah with apparent surprise and delight. “It’s no problem at all. But what is so urgent, and how can I help?”
Taking a deep breath, I explain the situation as calmly as I can, recounting my tale about the mysterious black car and our sudden detour that brought us practically to his front door. “I hate to ask, but I’m concerned that if I keep driving around, I’ll wind up in a more dangerous situation than before. I was hoping you would give us a safe place to wait for the police.”
“Have you called them already?” he asks, his voice thick with concern as his hand goes for his own phone.
I shake my head. “I haven’t had the chance.”
Mr. Cherny’s eyes soften, and he raises his cell phone to his ear. “You did the right thing coming here. Of course, I’ll help. Leave it to me. I’ll speak with the police. You just take care of your little girl, and we’ll have this straightened out in no time.”
Relief floods me as he moves quickly toward the front door, locking it behind us. He’s being so thoughtful, I almost feel bad about having a negative reaction to his casual turn of phrase yesterday—even if it was insulting. He’s clearly more than willing to help someone in need, and perhaps, in his world, the language he used with me is considered flattering.
Stroking Sarah’s dark locks away from her face, I speak soothingly to her as I do my best to calm my own nerves at the same time.
