With my resurfaced anger, I suddenly feel charged and decide the best course of action is to go for a run, so I hastily get myself ready then head out the door.
The day is a little duller than yesterday, but at least it’s not raining. I scan the clouds for any signs that it may in the next few minutes, but I don’t see any concerning for now. So I do my stretches then take off, filling my lungs with air. I pace myself as it has been a while since I’ve done any kind of exercise at all. I need some happy endorphins to kick in.
As I run past Walmart, I notice a nice clear path alongside it. It looks like the perfect running spot considering there’s a few runners and dog walkers using it themselves. With trees on either side, I can already see a hint of the beautiful fall colors taking shape. It looks magical, making a brief smile grace my lips at the sight.
After running along the path for a few minutes, I realize I’m completely on my own. Hairs on the back of my neck start to rise, but I shake myself out of it. I’m only feeling this way because it’s suddenly dawned on me that there’s nobody around.
However, as my pace quickens, so does my fear. My lungs protest so much that nausea erupts, causing me to slow my pace until I have no other option but to stop. Gasping for breath, I begin to feel the beginnings of a panic attack. My gaze swings left to right, glancing at every bush, tree, and pathway that my eyes can zero in on in order to find the threat. I don’t see a thing, and it’s then I remember the instructions Dr. Townsend gave me when I could feel a panic attack coming on.
Taking in deep breaths, I continue to gaze at my surroundings, and little by little, the panic subsides. I begin a slow and steady walk, but all the while, my eyes still scan every nook and crevice. Other runners and dog walkers emerge, making the calm continue to warm over me. They are few and far between, but there are enough people to make me feel safe.
However, my calm is short-lived when I realize there’s a man I recognize staring at me from a distance not far ahead of me. I don’t know where I’ve seen him before, but I know I’ve seen him somewhere. A part of me wonders if I should turn around and head back towards where I came, but then another part of me wonders why I should. I can’t run and hide every time I see a shadow that scares me.
With renewed determination, I push on, closing the distance between me and this oddly familiar looking man. He seems to be in his early thirties with slight signs of ageing around his eyes. His black hair is slicked back, and he’s dressed impeccably in a black V-necked jumper, which he wears over a white shirt and tie. I note he has a brown shoulder bag and is carrying his phone in one hand and smoking a cigarette in the other. As I close the distance between us, he suddenly smiles, making the lines of his eyes run deeper.
I should turn and walk the other way. Something tells me if I did, he would be in no position to catch up with me. His bag looks heavy and he’s dressed too smart to be running and getting all sweaty. But then again, why should I? Besides, there are still people milling around, so if I had to scream, it would certainly draw attention.
When I’m mere feet from him, his smile widens. I place my sternest face on so that he doesn’t note the fear creeping up inside me. When I pass him, I let out a little breath, but the hairs start to rise again.
“Hi, Ana. How are you today?”
My feet stop in their tracks, my heartbeat racing a million miles an hour. Who is this guy? And the even more concerning question: how does he know my name?
I spin round, equally hoping and fearing the answers I’m looking for.
“Who are you?” I demand, a small growl in my throat.
He seems to purposefully take a long drag of his cigarette before he finally stubs it out under his foot and closes the distance between us. His hand is soon out, expecting me to shake it.
“My name’s Phil Spector.” Again, the name is familiar, but I can’t pin where from. When I don’t shake his hand, he smirks before placing his hand back beside him. “I work for the Herald Newspaper and just wondered if you could spare me a few minutes.”
It’s then it dawns on me. He’s the man who was following me after all that business with Tony. I thought he had been long, done with me since the news about the Senator broke. However, that has died down quite a bit lately, so maybe that’s why he’s back? In any case, I don’t wait around to hear what he has to say. I quickly turn, hastily making my way back to Jessie’s, knowing full well he won’t just let me go that easily.
“Ana?” he calls. “Ana?”
Annoyed at him being personal with me, I flit my head back. “How do you know my name?”
“I know where you work and where you live—or shall I say used to live until recently? You’re quite the interesting character, Ana. Living and working with the same man. That must be quite difficult. Who’s the woman who lives there in place of you now?”
I stop momentarily and turn to face him. “That’s none of your goddamned business.”
Growling and frustrated at myself that he’s managed to get a rise out of me, I continue to walk briskly, trying my best to ignore him.
“She looks a lot like you, but older. Your mother, perhaps? Is she the reason why you left? Has she come to take your place?” He laughs at his own joke, and I seethe on the inside. How dare he follow me and get in to my personal business. Who does this jackass think he is?
“Mothers and daughters getting together with the same man under the same roof. That’s quite a sensational story. Care to confirm my suspicions?”
My anger reaching new levels, I stop again and turn to him. “My life is none of your business.” The man has the gall to smile at me again. “Why are you following me? I’m not a celebrity of any kind, so why are you so interested in my business? Nobody cares, but you … you just won’t let this go.”
Unfazed by my outburst, this Phil dickhead opens up his little pocketbook to check something, and then glances back up at me. “How’re the sessions going with Dr. Townsend? Is she helping you come to terms with the fact that you were the obsession of a serial killer?” My heartbeat accelerates to new levels at the mention of Tony. When my eyes widen, he smiles. “I recently took a holiday to a place called Chesterfield. Are you familiar with it?”
Fisting my hands together, I try to will my ever-beating heart to calm, but it’s no use. Chesterfield is where Tony took me to his parents’ house. How does he know about that? Stupid question, as he’s a journalist. No doubt this Phil has investigated Tony to the letter and has got more details on him then I ever learnt in my brief spell at unfortunately knowing him.
“A bit remote, but a beautiful place to live, don’t you think? I met a really nice girl there named Betty. She’s a nurse at St. Francis Hospital in Midlothian, which is around twenty minutes away from Tony’s parents’ house.”
The words are coming out of his mouth, but my heart is currently drumming in my ears, making them difficult to hear. Betty was one of the nurses who tended to me after my attack. What does this all mean?
“Nice girl, Betty. A bit loose-tongued after a few vodka tonics, though.”
Finally, my feet find movement, and I commence my brisk walk. “Leave me alone,” I simply retort, hoping that he will but knowing he won’t.