No Way Out - Fern Michaels Page 0,9
bulletin board and decided to speak to him about it. She pulled the thumbtack out, pulled the card off the board, and dialed his number. She knew she had only a few minutes before Jackson came into the kitchen, and she didn’t want him to hear her conversation.
“Pedone,” he answered
“Hello, Officer Pedone. This is Colleen Haywood.”
“Hello, Colleen. Everything OK?”
“Well, yes and no.” Colleen was hesitant, not wanting to seem like a damsel in distress. But perhaps she was.
“Tell me the no part first.” Pedone was warm and kind.
“Mitchel is stalking us.”
“Is he disobeying the order?”
“Not exactly. He stays a hundred yards away, but he’s always at the end of our street and just outside the parking lot at school. I work at the same school Jackson attends.”
“Unfortunately, there isn’t anything that can be done about that.”
“Yes, I know. I think he’s become irrational since the night of the episode. He had a hissy fit in court when the judge only granted him supervised visitation rights, and because of his outburst, the judge only allowed him one day each weekend. He was so angry, I thought the veins were going to pop out of his head.”
“Where is he staying now?” Pedone asked.
“At his brother’s house, in Manchester.” Colleen gave Pedone the address in that town, which was only a few miles away.
Pedone wrote down the information.
“How often is he on your street?”
“Every day.”
“Does he have a job?”
“No. He lost it after he was arrested. He had already been put on probation, and the two days he spent in jail put his boss over the top.”
“Have you settled on child support?”
“Not yet, but according to human resources, it will probably be a hundred and fifty dollars a week, due the first week of each month.”
“Has he given you any money in the meantime?”
“No. Nothing.” Colleen was surprised at Pedone’s concern. “But it will be retroactive.”
“OK. You let me know if he is ever late with a payment. Our local judge does not look kindly on deadbeat dads.”
“Thank you,” Colleen said. “Officer . . .”
He interrupted her. “Please call me Bob.”
“Uh. OK, Bob.” Colleen smiled for the first time in two weeks.
“Sorry for interrupting. How is Jackson doing with all of this?”
“He’s doing as well as one could expect. He asks questions like, ‘Is Daddy ever coming back?’ ‘Why can I only see him once a week?’ Things like that,” she explained. “I told him that for now, Daddy has to stay with Uncle Gregory and that his Grammy will be with them when he spends the day with his dad.”
“It’s gotta be tough,” Pedone said. “Sorry . . . what were you saying earlier? You sounded like you were about to ask me a question.”
Colleen hesitated again. “I’ve been thinking about getting a stun gun.”
Bob paused for a moment. “If you think that will help you feel safer, I can make some recommendations for you. I would go with a Taser rather than a stun gun, though.”
“Oh. What’s the difference?”
“Tasers eject electrodes that are tethered to the gun and can reach up to fifteen feet. A stun gun requires you to make physical contact with the person,” Pedone explained. “You don’t want him close enough to get his hands on you.”
Colleen replied immediately. “You are absolutely correct. I’m also having a security system installed.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Bob Pedone said.
“Between going to court, and teaching school, and trying to put Mitchel’s belongings together, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed.”
“That’s perfectly understandable. But it’s important that you take care of yourself,” Pedone added.
“Yes, I know.” Colleen sighed.
“How about this. I’ll pick up a Taser for you and bring it over. Then I can show you how to use it,” Pedone offered. “We don’t want you hurting yourself.”
“That would be great. But I don’t want to put you to any trouble on my behalf.” Colleen was almost starting to relax.
“Not a problem. I have to go to the shop and pick up a few things anyway. Do you have a budget in mind?”
“I have no idea. What do they usually cost?”
“Anywhere between four hundred and fifty and eleven hundred dollars.”
“Wow. Like I said, I had no idea.” Colleen was calculating her budget in her head.
“I don’t think you need the most expensive model. I’ll pick one out, and I’ll use my police discount. That should save you a few bucks.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Officer.”
“It’s Bob, remember?” Pedone chuckled.
“Right. Bob.” Colleen smiled. “I really appreciate this.”
“Not a problem. I’ll be happy to come by your