Chapter Two
Standing in front of the full-length mirror in her old-fashioned bathroom, Holly looked down at herself and sighed. She was doing everything she could to re-create the circumstances of that night, but her body wasn't cooperating. The pale lilac camisole she'd last worn three months ago was hanging off her now. Her once full breasts were noticeably smaller and her ribs were showing.
She'd been avoiding this moment for weeks, but she really couldn't deny it any longer, so she stepped onto the bathroom scale and closed her eyes as she waited for the large dial to settle on a number. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes for a moment, taking in the information, and then closed them again. It was worse than she'd thought. She'd lost 27 pounds in just over three months.
She knew most women would be thrilled with the news, but she was appalled. As a teenager, she'd periodically starved herself during particularly stressful times. At one point she'd realized that she was routinely and purposely eating less than 300 calories a day. Shocked at how far her obsession had gone, she'd woken up and sought help, but she still had a tendency to fall into those old patterns. As a result, she was usually quite diligent about maintaining a healthy body weight and eating regularly, even when she didn't feel like it.
Like everything else in her life, her eating habits had been impacted by the events of that night. Shopping for and preparing food just seemed so exhausting. Everything seemed to take so much more effort than she remembered.
Not wanting to bother cooking shouldn't have been a problem. She was surrounded by really fine dining establishments and yet she wasn’t comfortable eating at them. She wasn't in the mood to meet with friends, and eating alone was just awful now. She felt like she was being watched, all the time. Logically, she knew this was impossible, but her unease just wouldn't go away.
She'd returned to the city after two annoying weeks spent with her well-meaning but overbearing mother out in Chilliwack, a small city about an hour's drive from her place downtown. Walking back into her apartment had been difficult, but she'd insisted on doing it alone. If she was going to move forward, then she was going to have to face her fears and try to put her odd encounter with that man behind her.
At first being in her apartment alone had been okay. She'd missed her place. Missed everything about living in Vancouver. Her work, her friends, her kitschy kitchen with the black and white checkerboard tile and diner-inspired decor. The many coffee shops and excellent window shopping within blocks of her front door. Everything.
She'd even missed her nosy neighbors, the Kleins, who'd been responsible for calling the police that night. The ancient couple had welcomed her back like she'd been gone for months. Mrs. Klein had even dropped off a rather putrescent casserole for her to enjoy on her first night home.
Holly had almost felt too guilty to accept the dubious offering. In the past she'd been polite to the octogenarian couple, but had inwardly resented their personal questions and intrusive manner. She wasn't proud of this but she'd quite regularly stood at her apartment door, listening for the distinctive sound of their twin walkers maneuvering down the hallway before venturing out of her apartment.
The Kleins weren't malicious busybodies, but it was still disconcerting how they always knew her work schedule or never failed to comment if she had take-out delivered from the Thai place on the corner. But if having neighbors with a bit too much interest in her personal business saved her from what could have been rape or worse, then she would graciously put up with their tendency to know her every move. Even if it was a little off- putting.
That first day back she'd been settling into her familiar routine, not exactly comfortable, but not terrified either. But then night had fallen and her anxiety had sky-rocketed. To avoid going to bed she'd stayed up until the early morning hours. She went over the proofs for the print ad she was working on until she could no longer focus on the computer screen. And still she'd been unable to force herself to step into her bedroom. She'd spent the entire night cleaning and shopping online. As the sun rose outside, she finally fell into a light, restless sleep on her couch. That's where she'd spent every night since she'd been back. Tonight would be her first time actually lying on her bed, thought sleep was still unlikely to find her. Until her dream man left anyway.
Her second and third nights back in her apartment had been equally long and sleepless. Finally, on her fourth day back she decided to call the precinct to see if there'd been some progress on her case. She thought perhaps she could rest if she knew the police had a suspect or even a solid lead. Also, she was curious to know why Constable Delgado hadn't been in touch with her. He had promised her mother that he would keep her safe, and yet she hadn't heard a word from him. She was more than a little disappointed that he hadn't made some effort to contact her.
Summoning her nerve, she called the number on the card Delgado had left beside her phone. Her heart was beating like crazy as she waited to be forwarded to the handsome cop. Twice, she almost hung up r emembering the way he'd behaved so coolly towards her when she last saw him. He probably had women calling him all the time, feigning interest in a case when their motivation was actually more about getting inside his uniform. She really hoped calling him didn't make her seem like just another cop groupie.
When Delgado's partner, Constable Gill, picked up instead Holly was momentarily relieved. Until she realized how unhappy the older cop was to hear from her. In fact his tone had been downright hostile when he informed her that Delgado had left the force.
Holly wasn't quite sure why Constable Gill sounded so gruff, but didn't really care. Delgado was gone. Not wanting the ill-tempered cop to guess how shattered she was by this news, Holly quickly shifted the conversation towards the case.
'Well,' Constable Gill said, clearly reluctant to share information with her. 'We did have a suspect, but he alibi'd out. His mom confirmed his story that he was home with her on the three evenings in question. Too bad really. He looked good for it. A couple priors. B amp; E's and trespassing. That kind of thing.'
'Trespassing?'
'Yeah. Apparently our boy liked to go for walks at night and peep in a few windows. Typical pervert behavior. Not necessarily dangerous, but you'd be surprised how many violent offenders start out that way.'
Holly swallowed and tried to sound calm. 'So, he's still wandering around. His mom got him off. Just like that?'
'Well, actually. He's in the hospital right now. Someone put him there. Really messed him up. He won't be sniffing around any windows for awhile, I can tell you that.'
Holly thanked him for the information and requested that he call her if there was any further progress on the case, but was fairly sure he would lose her number immediately after hanging up. Constable Gill obviously thought she was overreacting to her home invasion and didn't see why he should feel obligated to keep her informed. He had bigger issues to deal with, like a new partner and a city where actual crimes were being committed every single second. Her almost rape didn't impress him in the least. He'd just been going through the motions of concern that night to avoid appearing insensitive in front of his former partner, who actually had seemed sincerely sympathetic.
Her next call was to the Delgado's friend: The one who installed security systems. An alarm wasn't as effective or as tempting as a hot cop bodyguard, but it seemed like her only option if she wanted any peace at all. Unfortunately for her, alarm systems weren't much of a deterrent for bad dreams. Or incredibly hot dreams where her intruder seemed to sound and smell just like Constable Delgado.
Stepping off the dreaded scale, she thought about stripping off the gaping camisole set and just going to bed naked to wait for her dream man. That would certainly save time and awkwardness. But she just couldn't do it. Sleeping in the buff was not her style. Even on the rare nights she'd shared her bed with another person she couldn't wait to get her clothes back on after the sex was over. She wasn't comfortable with her body and didn't see that changing anytime soon. Except in the dreams. There she was proud of her body. She flaunted her breasts and that hot, wet spot between her legs, knowing that she was driving her dream man crazy.
In reality, she was self-conscious about just about everything. All the things that empowered her dream self made her feel embarrassed, like the smell of her sex, the sounds it made when a man was thrusting inside of her, the unattractive way her breasts slid to the side as she lay on her back. There was nothing beautiful or poetic in
