Free In Self Defense by Susan R. Sloan

having to worry about her, too.”
    Richard turned away, but not before Erin caught the glint of tears in his eyes.  “No, it wouldn’t surprise me,” he whispered.  “You see . . . that’s Clare.”
    ***
    “You should have told me,” Richard said that night, as they were getting ready for bed.
    “I really didn’t think it was that important,” Clare said, shrugging.
    “Some guy’s going around stalking you, and you didn’t think it was important enough to tell me?”
    “I thought I could handle it,” she said.  “I didn’t think you needed to be bothered with anything else right now.”
    Richard gave her a long look.  “Do you really think it wouldn’t matter to me that some freak is after my wife?”
    “Well, I suppose, when you put it that way.”
    The telephone rang sharply.  “Who the hell would be calling at this hour?” Richard snapped.
    Clare exhaled sharply.  “You know who it is,” she said.
    “I’ll get it,” he said.
    “No, let me,” she told him, raising her hand to stop him.  “He won’t talk, if you answer, he’ll only hang up, and Detective Grissom and Detective Hall want to get as much of him on tape as they can.”  She reached for the receiver.
    “Hello, Clare,” the voice said.
    “Hello,” she responded, unable, despite her brave attitude, to contain a shiver.
    “It’s late, and I know you’ve probably had a long day.  Are you getting ready for bed?”
    “As a matter of fact, yes,” she told him.
    “Is he there?”
    “Is who there?”
    “Come now, you don’t want to play games with me, Clare.  Is your husband there?”
    “Yes, of course he is.”
    “I wish it was me, instead of him.”
    “No, you don’t,” she said, seeming to take courage in the fact that Richard was indeed there and that the police would be listening.  “You don’t want me.  At least, not for who I am.  All you want is to live in your own sick little fantasy.”
    “Now why would you say a thing like that?” the voice asked, sounding hurt.
    “Because it’s true,” she said boldly.  “Because, if you were a real man, you’d come out in the open instead of always hiding in the shadows like a sneak thief, like a coward.”
    “You’ve been talking to someone about me, haven’t you?” he asked slowly.
    “Why?” Clare retorted.  “Is that what you want me to do -- talk about you?  Is that what turns you on?”
    There was a pause.  “I guess you’re not afraid of me anymore,” he said softly.
    “No,” she said, her voice steady, but her hands visibly shaking as she spoke.  “I’m not.”
    “Then perhaps it’s time for us to meet, you and I,” he said.  “Yes, I do believe it is.  And sometime soon, I think.  Sometime when your husband is away on one of his frequent business trips, and you can see how real I really am.”
    “I have absolutely no interest in meeting you, not now, not ever,” she declared, smothering her surprise at his knowing anything about Richard’s travel schedule.  “Why can’t you understand that you mean nothing to me?”
    “But I could,” the voice cooed.  “I could mean everything to you.  There are so many things I want to do to you.  Would you like me to tell you some of them?  Would you like me to tell you how much I want you, right now, naked and writhing in my bed?  Would you like to know how easily I could have you screaming with pleasure?”
    “No, I wouldn’t,” she cried.  “The only thing I’d like is for you to go away and leave me alone.”
    It was at that moment that Richard snatched the receiver from her hand.  “Look, you sick sonofabitch,” he barked, “you come anywhere near my wife, and I’ll personally see to it that the state hangs a eunuch!”
    ***
    Dusty and Erin came up with nothing on the background checks of the Nicolaidis employees.  They learned that Douglas Potter, vice president of research and development, was a deadbeat dad and that the company paid his court-ordered