Book One: The Viper's Bite

Eighteen

"If you can't work with us, Ms. Eddings, we can't work with you." The detective turned to pace to the other side of the room, smart shoes clicking on the bare cement floor. "These pictures weren't a spur of the moment event - they were planned. Months, documented and filed. How could you not have noticed someone, anyone, doing anything so deliberate?"

I let my head rest on one hand, trying not to make my tone condescending. "I'm sure this would come as a surprise, but there are often people taking pictures around me. Obviously, it was a mistake on my part not to check each and every one." When he quirked one of his eyebrows - in either amusement or surprise, I assumed - I held my hands out in a gesture that said 'I don't know what you want from me, man'. 

His expression shifted, from amiable but determined to exasperated and impatient and it occurred to me that he was a real two in one deal. "This isn't a laughing matter. These are serious crimes, Federal crimes, and the fact that you're sitting there making jokes is un-"

"The fact that I'm sitting here, still sitting here with you asking me the same question for over three hours is ridiculous, sir." I sneered, resisting the urge to slam my palm on the table. "Why aren't you out tracing where they came from, or how they got to the hotel this morning?" My questions knocked him off guard for only a moment before he reset his expression again, this time with a blank stare and pursed lips.

"That isn't how it works in these kinds of situations. There are procedures, and right now, this is the procedure." He slid the envelope that had been sitting at the other end of the table over, letting it stop in front of me. "You wonder why I've been asking you so many questions, but you didn't tell us everything, Ms. Eddings." He tapped on the folder, and I reached over, pulled the latch up and took out what was inside.

To my horror, there were more pictures - not just copies of the ones I had received, but even more than I had even realized. These went further back then a few months. As I sifted through the pile, I felt the detective lean down over me, tsking lowly. "Why didn't we know about these? Were you hiding them? Why? I told you -"

"Would you shut it?" I yelled, pushing to my feet. "I didn't even know about these! Why would I hide even more pictures? Oh God."

The door to the room flew open and a woman dressed in navy stepped in. "Your assistance is no longer needed, detective. I'll take it from here," she said, following this with a harsh glare at her colleague. Within seconds, the door had closed again and the only noise in the room was the sound of her heels as she came towards me.

"Would you like a glass of water, Ms. Eddings? Something to eat, maybe?" When I shook my head, she perched herself on the edge of the table. "I'm sorry about earlier. It's not often that he deals with victims. And make no mistake, Ms. Eddings. We understand that you've been victimized."

She leafed through the pictures, her expression unchanging. "We want to know what you've seen, who you've seen. We want to help you by catching this bastard and making sure this," she paused, spread them across the surface. "This stops. That it never happens again. That you and everyone in your life can stop wondering who's watching you through your bedroom windows."

Again I shook my head, holding out my hands palm up. "I don't know where they are, or when it started. I don't know why they're doing it. I only know who it is, and that I thought it was over - I thought it was over." Slowly I lowered myself into the chair, so lost in thought that I didn't notice what she was doing until she spoke up.

 "These were found after he was arrested the first time. It was all in a van, the one he'd been using to follow you, it's assumed." Her hands moved to reveal papers, maps, a pinboard that marked...