Red Tape (15 page)

After ten minutes, Patricia appeared in the lobby and said, “So, you are getting yourself a gun.”

“Hi, Patricia,” I said. I was a little embarrassed. I didn’t think I’d run into anyone I knew and I felt silly being so scared that I wanted a gun.

“Come on back,” she said as she directed me to a small room where she took my fingerprints. Patricia informed me that it could take as long as six weeks for the fingerprint checks to come back.

I paid the fees and thanked Patricia for her help. Bonnie and I exited the building and jumped back in the car.

“Six weeks is a lot longer than I expected. What am I supposed to do to protect myself in the meantime?” I asked Bonnie.

“I have some pepper spray at home. I’ll give it to you. I would also recommend a good alarm system.”

“Good idea.”

Next, we drove to the sporting goods store a few miles away from the police station in Madisen. We walked up to the gun counter and started looking.

“May I help you?” said the old man behind the counter.

“Just looking,” I said.

He directed us to where the pocket-sized guns were located. I never realized there were so many varieties of handguns and I felt overwhelmed.

“What kind of gun do you have?” I asked Bonnie.

“One of my guns is a Ruger LC9,” she said as she pointed it out.

“One of? How many guns do you have?”

“I don’t know, five or six.”

I should have known better. Bonnie had more than one of everything she owned. Someone with money could buy multiple “toys,” I imagined.

I read the description of it on the tag in front of the display model. It said it was a double-action-only, hammer-fired, locked-breech pistol with a smooth trigger pull. This might as well have been written in Arabic. I had no idea what it meant.

“I don’t know what I’m looking at,” I told Bonnie. “This is beyond my comprehension.”

“Maybe I should have just taken you to the shooting range and let you try my guns first, then see if you like any of them. I don’t have time this morning, but let’s schedule a day to go.”

I dropped Bonnie off and thanked her. She told me to let her know what day worked for me to go to the range. She also told me she would go with me to buy my gun when my permit came in.

I drove home and called an alarm company. They were willing to come out right away to install the alarm. It took them the remainder of the afternoon to install all the motion detectors, hardwire everything, and give me instructions on its use. I felt safer already. I bought the model that talked. It would say things like, “The back door is open.” I thought this was a great feature since Mandy would be walking soon. I would instantly know if she tried to open any of the doors.

I went back to my parents’ house and picked up Mandy. I thought it best not to tell my parents what I had learned about Frita being released or what I was up to all day. They were already scared sick about my safety. I didn’t need to give them something else to worry about.

I decided to stop at the grocery store on the way home. I loaded Mandy into the cart and went into the store. I needed to buy some baby food and I didn’t have any food for myself in the house. I was in the cereal aisle when I saw Mr. Triggers coming toward me.
Oh crap, not now
, went through my mind.

“I need to talk to you,” Mr. Triggers said to me. Again, he smelled to high heaven. My eyes started to tear. What was that smell? Onions? Mandy started to cry. She was at an age where she didn’t like strangers and she probably got a whiff of his bad body odor too. I decided to pretend I was someone else.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” I asked.

He looked confused. “I’m Robert Triggers,” he said.

“Have we met before?” I asked.

“What are you talking about?” he said. “You know darn well who I am.”

“I don’t think we’ve met before. Are you one of my customers at the dry cleaners?” I imagined this man had never set foot in the dry cleaners by the way he smelled, so I felt I was safe making up that occupation.

“Dry cleaners?” he asked. “Are you on drugs? You know me from the municipal building.”

“Oh! You must be talking about my twin sister Chelsey. I’m Christine. We look exactly alike.”

“Oh,” he said and he turned and walked away with a baffled look on his face.

I chuckled to myself. I thought it was pretty clever of me to think of that. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him outside of work. He would have taken up all my time and I needed to get done and get home.

Chapter 18

The next morning, Mr. Triggers was at my office bright and early.

“I met your sister yesterday,” he said.

“We don’t get along,” I said. “How may I help you?”

“I need to look through those boxes again.”

I had totally forgotten about the boxes. I don’t know why he was saying “again.” He hadn’t bothered to come in and look through them the first time! It was irritating knowing that he was going to make me go through all the trouble of getting those boxes a second time, then probably never come back to look at them, just like before.

“Do you know which boxes you needed?” I asked.

“All of them!” he demanded.

I made him fill out a records request form and told him I’d have them by noon tomorrow. Shockingly, he left without an argument.

Bad memories of the boxes came flooding back to me as I picked up the phone to request them from storage. I felt embarrassed all over again when I remembered tripping over them in front of a bunch of men from the public works department. I also suddenly remembered all those fire alarms we were having back then and realized I hadn’t heard an alarm since I had been back. I surmised they finally fixed the problem. I laughed to myself at Bonnie’s firemen comments, or “Bonnie-isms,” as I recently started calling her candid remarks. I missed Bonnie and couldn’t wait for her to come back to work.

* * *

Boxes upon boxes arrived in the municipal building. I grew disgusted just looking at them. I put in a work order for public works to bring me a table and chair for Mr. Triggers. To my surprise, Mr. Triggers showed up at two o’clock to go through them. I told him he was welcome to have a seat and help himself to the boxes.

By four o’clock, he hadn’t made a dent in searching through the boxes. He approached my window and told me he had to leave, but he would be back the next day. The next day, he arrived at eight thirty in the morning. He asked me if he could come inside and use our computers.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Triggers, we do not allow residents to use our computers for safety reasons.”

“What safety reasons?” he said.

“To prevent acts of sabotage,” I responded.

“What kind of sabotage?”

“The kind that ruins computer networks.”

“I’m not going to ruin any computer networks. I just want to set up a spreadsheet to record the documents I’m looking at in these boxes.”

“You’re welcome to bring in your own computer to use, but I cannot allow you to use our computers.”

“Why not?”

Irritated, I said, “I just explained that to you.”

“Explain it again.”

“It’s not our policy to allow residents to use our computers.”

“I want to see that policy,” he said, growing agitated.

“It’s not a written policy.”

“Then I’m allowed to use them.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Then I want to speak to someone who knows what they are doing around here,” he screamed.

Rodney was out for the day, so I didn’t know who to get for help. I wasn’t going to be speaking to the mayor. The council members were all at their full-time jobs. Triggers was not going to take no for an answer and with him being so adamant and my patience running out, I decided to call the police to diffuse the situation.

“I’ll be right back,” I said.

“Where are you going? I’m not done talking! I will not be ignored!” he yelled.

“I’m not ignoring you; I’m going to get someone else in here, like you asked.”

I hurried into my office and dialed 9-1-1. I was so frazzled, I wasn’t even sure what I said to the dispatcher who answered the phone. Within seconds, Detective Texidoro arrived with another officer and our town’s K-9. Mr. Triggers didn’t seem to notice the dog.

After ten or so minutes of Mr. Triggers trying to convince Tex that he should be allotted appropriate time to utilize the town’s computers, Tex grew weary and told Triggers he had to leave. When Triggers refused, Tex said that Triggers was creating a disturbance with his shouting and he would be escorted out of the building if he wouldn’t leave peacefully. As Triggers’ voice increased in volume, the dog became progressively more agitated.

With both hands, Triggers shoved Tex. The other officer let go of the dog and the dog attacked, biting Triggers in the arm and not letting go. Triggers kicked, squealed, screeched, and screamed in agony. He fell to the ground with the dog still latched onto him. The dog growled and flung his head from side to side tearing open the skin on Triggers’ arm.

“Call it off! Call it off!” he shouted.

The officer called off his dog. I tried my best not to laugh. I mean, the man was hurt. Blood was trickling down his arm out of the puncture wounds. But it served him right for putting his hands on an officer. Tex then arrested him for assault. This maniac was racking up quite the rap sheet. Assault by egg, assault by coins, assault on a police officer, assault with a picket sign. Actually, I didn’t think the picketing arrest was an assault, but it
was
another arrest. I thought he was a loose cannon and I wondered what types of antics he would try next.

Triggers was processed and bonded out within a few hours. I was rattled when I saw him in the parking lot on my way out of the door for the evening. He started to follow me to my car. I reached into my purse and clutched the pepper spray Bonnie had given me. If the pepper spray didn’t work, my plan was to grab his bandaged arm, then kick him in the nuts and run like hell.

I turned around and said, “Why are you following me? What do you want?”

“I want to know why you called the police.” He looked at me with a sinister glare.

“Don’t you see how you act? You intimidate people. You berate people. You are condescending, insulting, mean and aggressive. You scare people.”

I hurried to my car, jumped in, and turned over the engine. I looked back and Triggers was getting into his own car. I blew out a sigh of relief. I drove to my parents’ house and picked up Mandy. On my way home, I saw Triggers’ car in my rearview mirror.

“You freak,” I said out loud to myself. “You better not be following me.”

I told myself not to panic. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Triggers lived on Fourth Street. Maybe he had stopped at the grocery store and was merely driving home. I kept my eye on him.
When we passed Fourth Street, my red flags went up. I drove over the causeway with Triggers hot on my trail. I made a couple of unusual turns to make certain he was following me. He was. I reached into my pocketbook and dialed the Madisen Township Police Department. I told them that an infuriated resident from my work was following me and I feared his intent was to do harm to me or my infant child. I told them I was afraid to go home and I would meet them at a local shopping center.

A Madisen Township police car was sitting near the entrance to the shopping center when I got there. Triggers saw the police car and drove off. I pointed the car out to the officer and gave them Mr. Triggers’ name. He took a report and said I could come down to the station to file a complaint. I needed to get Mandy home to feed and bathe her, so I opted to forgo the complaint and report the lunatic to Tex later.

Installing the alarm system in my home was proving to be the right thing to do for my peace of mind. I wished I was also able to get that gun, but I still had weeks to wait for the permit. I was jumping out of my skin at every little sound. After seeing the K-9, I thought about getting myself a dog too. A Doberman or a Pit Bull. Something with big teeth. The alarm helped to calm my nerves, but it wasn’t enough to make me feel secure. I was on full alert.

Once I put Mandy down to sleep, I called Tex on his cell phone.

“I was followed by Triggers tonight,” I said.

“What do you mean, ‘followed’?” Tex asked.

“I left work, picked up Mandy, then noticed him following me in his car on my way home.”

“Did you call the police?”

“Yes, I called Madisen Township’s police; they met me at a shopping center. Triggers took off when he saw me pull up to the police car.”

“Okay, so did you file a complaint?”

“Not yet.”

“Why the hell not?”

“They said I had to come down to the station. I had to get Mandy home, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“So, why are you calling me?”

“So nice of you to be concerned.”

“I am concerned, but you need to get it on record and file that complaint.”

“Why do you think he was following me?”

“Who the hell knows what goes on in that deranged brain of his.”

“Do you think he was going to hurt me?”

“Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll run his name through the system to see if he has any major priors. I’ll call you right back.”

Nail biting was fast becoming a new bad habit of mine. I was anxiously awaiting a call back from Tex. Fifteen minutes later, I got the call.

“You’re not going to like what I found.”

“I don’t care. I need to know what I’m up against.”

“Oh calm down, I found nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing that you didn’t already know about. The egging, the pennies, the picketing. All things aimed toward getting his dunes back, I guess. I don’t think you have to be worried. I don’t see any violent acts.”

“What about how he pushed you?”

“I was in his face; he did step over the line. Do I think he would do that again? Not really.”

“Not to you he wouldn’t, and not in front of a dog,” I said.

“You could probably get a restraining order.”

“The courts are going to think I’m the crazy one, taking out another restraining order on a different person trying to kill me.”

“How do you know he was trying to kill you?”

“I don’t. So, if he wasn’t trying to kill me, how would I get a restraining order granted?”

“For stalking.”

“I don’t know, he’s already on the edge. I feel like if I do anything to push him over it, then he’ll do something to hurt me. I’m not ready to do a restraining order yet. I have enough people trying to do me bodily harm.”

“Well, keep it in mind.”

Talking to Tex didn’t help ease my mind or help me to gain any shuteye, but I’d be worse off if he had told me that Triggers was a serial killer.

* * *

The next morning, I was more cautious and vigilant than usual. I carefully checked all around the house for any suspicious cars or strangers lurking around. Because of the mayor and Triggers, I trusted no one. I kept my pepper spray in my hand, just in case.

I made it to my parents’ house and to work without any problems. I thought,
I cannot continue to live like this.
I knew I needed to find a different job, hit the lottery, or something. I opened up the newspaper when I got to work and I saw that the mayor’s court date was scheduled for April. April seemed like a lifetime away. I would surely have ulcers by April. Even then, there was no guarantee that Frita would go to jail and no guarantee she wouldn’t try to exact revenge on me.

My thoughts were broken by a voice saying, “Hello?”

I stepped out of my office and saw a Sheriff’s officer waiting patiently at the window for my signature. I took the envelope from him and signed his paperwork. I tore open the package. It was an appeal filed by Mr. Triggers. If he didn’t win the first suit, I didn’t know how he would win the appeal. I faxed it over to Colby.

I recalled that Triggers stopped coming by my office when he first filed suit. I hoped that he would do the same this time. I glanced down at my ringing phone. The caller ID showed it was Mr. Triggers. The man must had have ESP. I felt uneasy and quickly chose not to answer it. He left a voicemail saying, “Chelsey, I didn’t mean to scare you yesterday; I just wanted a chance to apologize. I didn’t mean to be disruptive or make you upset. My actions were intolerable and I hope you will accept my apologies.”

“That was unexpected,” I said out loud. I debated whether I should still go down to Madisen Township during my lunch break like I had planned. After contemplating it all morning, I decided to leave well enough alone. If Triggers tried anything again, I would go right away to file a complaint. Tex said he wasn’t violent and I didn’t want to cause him to become out of control by filing a complaint against him. I also didn’t feel like going to court to face him about a stalking complaint. Little did I know that Triggers was soon going to be the least of my worries with what was about to happen to the quaint little town of Sunshine.