'I'm being stalked,' Meredyth told the stranger. 'Did you see anyone else in here?'
'Not by me, lady.'
'Did you see anyone else in the stacks?'
She replied, 'There was a woman bumped me going down the aisle, but no guy, no.'
Meredyth pulled out the photo of Lauralie Blodgett that she had ripped from The Lady yearbook and kept in her purse. 'Is this the woman you saw? The one who bumped you?'
The young black woman squinted and bit her upper lip. 'You saying you're being stalked by another woman?'
'Was it her? Is it her?'
'It was…it is.'
'Then she's here.' Meredyth pulled her.38 Smith and Wesson from her purse, and the black woman put her hands out, backing off until she reached the door and backed through it. Ignoring the black woman's outcry from the other side of the door, Meredyth inched down the aisle of the stacks, going deeper into the archives, searching for Lauralie Blodgett, recalling her and Lucas's theory that this woman killed her own mother. She would have no compunction in killing Meredyth if given the opportunity.
Behind her, Meredyth heard the trampling of courthouse security guards tumbling over one another in an effort to get to the bottom steps and through the door and at Meredyth. She realized that she could be shot dead before any explanation of her identity or her brandishing a gun could be made. Perhaps Lauralie had even planned it this way, but how? How did she know she'd be here?
She heard the clickity-clack of a set of high heels just ahead of her. She wheeled and leaped into the next lane of stacks, coming eye-to-eye with a terrified file clerk who dropped her handful of files and fled. Beyond the clerk, she saw an emergency door exit slowly closing.
She raced for the door and was about to snatch it open when from behind her, she heard the order, 'Freeze! Drop the gun and freeze, now!'
It was a male voice, one of the security guards.
A second guard came at her from another direction, his gun also pointed, saying, 'You've got two guns pointed at you! Do as you're told, Dr. Sanger.'
She knew the man by name. 'Roy, you know who I am. You know I'm not some lunatic. She was here. She went through that door. Let me catch her before she gets away.'
'Who was here?' asked Roy Purdue.
The other guard shouted, 'Drop the gun, lady! Now!'
She did so, sighing heavily. Roy poked his head through the exit door and stared outside for a moment as his partner picked up Meredyth's weapon. 'Nobody out there. Dr. Sanger,' Roy informed her.
'The.38 is registered. I carry a weapon for self-defense and would only use it in self-defense.'
'We'll just let the police handle it from here, lady,' said the guard she didn't know. Reading his name tag, she replied, 'Listen, Lewis, I'm a forensic police shrink, and I'm being stalked.'
'Police are on their way, Dr. Sanger,' replied Roy. 'This is a matter you'll have to resolve with them. Maybe you should call your lawyer, Dr. Sanger.'
'I'll do that.' She plunged a hand into her purse for the cell phone, and Lewis crouched, aimed, and shouted, 'Freeze!'
'Damn it, I'm going for my cell phone.'
'Forget it!' shouted a red-faced Lewis, snatching her purse from her. He now had her gun tucked into his belt, and her purse dangling from one hand, his gun still trained on her. 'Cuff her, Roy,' Lewis said shakily.
'That won't be necessary, Lewis. We just escort her to the door. Put the gun down, Lewis.'
'What?'
'She's unarmed now, Lewis, and cooperative, so back off!'
'Give me my phone back. I'll call my boss, Chief Lincoln,' she pleaded.
'Let's all go upstairs, Dr. Sanger. Greet the officers when they arrive,' suggested Roy. 'We can turn your things over to them.'
Meredyth pulled away and walked briskly ahead of Roy and his friend through the stacks and back to the microfiche machine she'd been working on when she saw some-thing strange. Someone had ordered a hard copy of the record she'd come for. The paper copy lay in the tray, taunting her.
'She was here…she did this,' said Meredyth, realizing how mad she must seem to these two courthouse guards. 'I didn't order a copy of the record be made. She did. It's her way of telling me how close she can get any time she wants.'
'Let's go upstairs, Dr. Sanger,' replied Roy in his softest, kindest tone.
'It also means she's still in the building, still lurking in the shadows down here. We've got to do a search of this entire area, Roy!'
'No, Dr. Sanger, we're done here,' declared Roy. 'We're taking you upstairs, so please, come along.'
She defiantly snatched the copy of the record of Lauralie's adoption as they led her through the door and to the stairwell. 'She may have left fingerprints on the machine.'
Neither security guard was listening now. They silently led her up to ground level.
The security guards turned Meredyth over to two uniformed policemen who had rushed through the courthouse security checkpoint, guns drawn. Meredyth's gun was turned over to the police, and one of them proceeded to handcuff her as she protested. 'I'm a forensic psychiatrist! With the Three-one! I'm a shrink, a cop shrink. Check my ID.'
Meredyth saw that people she had known for a decade, from the newsstand guy to lawyers and bailiffs and judges, all staring in disbelief. A crowd had gathered, mostly made up of civilians who populated the courtrooms in cases ranging from traffic tickets to murder trials. But among them, Meredyth caught a glimpse of Lauralie Blodgett stepping away, a smile on her face.
'It's her!' Meredyth shouted. 'Stop that woman! It's her!'
But Meredyth was led out to a waiting police cruiser, its strobe lights flashing, and outside she had to face yet another crowd. The arrest was humiliating, and she was pleased when finally she could duck into the cruiser and be out of view behind the tinted windows. The handcuffs bit into her wrist, and when the officers climbed into the car, she pleaded with them to take off the cuffs, telling them to call Captain Gordon Lincoln at the 31st Precinct, again telling them who she was, adding, 'What happened in the courthouse…it was all a big mis-'
'— misunderstanding,' the two cops piped in, in unison.
'Yes ma'am, ahhh, Doctor,' said the driver. 'Frank, you want to call the Three-one and bother Gordo Lincoln with this, or you want to book the lady?' They had driven off the courthouse sidewalk where the cruiser had parked, blocking the front stairs to the courthouse main entrance.
'I'm the forensic psychiatrist who's working closely with Lieutenant Lucas Stonecoat on the P.O. murder case, the one all over the news.'
'The Post-it Ripper case, you?' The two officers stared at one another, and then the driver stared at her through his rearview mirror. 'You really got Police ID on you, Doc?'
'Yeah, but my hands are in cuffs and I can't get at my purse.'
The driver pulled over some blocks away.
'What the hell're we doing, Tony?' asked the cop in the passenger seat.
'Check her ID, Frank.'
'I have a permit for the gun,' she told them. 'I'm the police shrink at the Three-one,' she nervously repeated.
'Wait, whoa up, Doc. Are you saying that you're the one who's gotten all those body parts by mail-the eyeballs and the hand?' he asked as Frank pulled open the back door and rifled through her purse for identification.
'It's her all right, Tony. Dr. M. Sanger, Ph.D., M.D., Houston PD Forensic Psychiatry, Civilian Personnel. What now?'
'Call Lincoln.' Tony adjusted his uniform tie.
'No…no, call Lieutenant Lucas Stonecoat, please. He'll verify I am who I say I am.'
'Hmmm…think we've established that much. Tell you what, Doc. How would it be if we dropped you at the Three-one and we all call it a day? I'll talk to security at the courthouse; not likely to be any charges.'
