Mr. Peterson opened his front door before I reached the second step.<\/p>\n
He stood behind the storm door in a red flannel robe with a ceramic mug in one hand, gray hair flattened on one side as if he had only recently gotten out of bed. His eyes moved over my jeans, sweater, bare face, and the purse clutched against my ribs.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnna?\u201d<\/p>\n
I glanced over my shoulder at our house.<\/p>\n
No headlights.<\/p>\n
No movement behind the curtains.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan I come in?\u201d<\/p>\n
Whatever he saw in my expression made him put the mug down without asking another question.<\/p>\n
He unlocked the storm door.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n
Warm air and the smell of burnt coffee met me in the entryway.<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson closed the door behind us, then turned the dead bolt.<\/p>\n
I noticed that.<\/p>\n
He had known me for four years. We had exchanged packages, borrowed tools, argued pleasantly about where the property line disappeared beneath the hedge, and waved at one another hundreds of times.<\/p>\n
I had never seen him lock the door during daylight.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s a little early for social visiting,\u201d he said quietly. \u201cSo I\u2019m guessing this isn\u2019t that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
He led me into his kitchen.<\/p>\n
The room looked exactly as I expected it to: yellow overhead light, newspapers stacked beside the refrigerator, a radio turned low near the sink. A half-completed crossword lay beside his coffee.<\/p>\n
He pulled out a chair.<\/p>\n
\u201cSit down.\u201d<\/p>\n
I remained standing.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf Dererick comes home, can you see our driveway from here?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson\u2019s face changed.<\/p>\n
Not confusion.<\/p>\n
Recognition.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow well?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVery.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou watch it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI watch the street.\u201d<\/p>\n
He said it defensively, then seemed to decide defense was unnecessary.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t sleep much. You know that.\u201d<\/p>\n
I did.<\/p>\n
After his wife, Marlene, died, Mr. Peterson\u2019s routines had shifted into strange hours. Porch lights at three in the morning. Snow shoveled before sunrise. Garbage bins brought in before the collection truck reached the next block.<\/p>\n
I sat down.<\/p>\n
He lowered himself into the chair opposite me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
I tried to begin with something reasonable.<\/p>\n
I failed.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think Dererick has been drugging me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson did not move.<\/p>\n
I continued before courage disappeared.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know how that sounds.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt sounds like something you wouldn\u2019t say unless you had a reason.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe puts something in my tea. I pretended to drink it tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson\u2019s hand flattened on the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened after?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at the newspaper instead of him.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe waited until he thought I was unconscious. He wore gloves. He took pictures of me.\u201d<\/p>\n
A long silence followed.<\/p>\n
\u201cPictures?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd samples.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat kind of samples?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know. Swabs. A piece of my clothes.\u201d<\/p>\n
His jaw tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe had a camera?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you were awake?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid he hurt you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
The answer surprised both of us.<\/p>\n
I looked down at my hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cI mean, not tonight. I don\u2019t think. But I found records.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson leaned forward.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat records?\u201d<\/p>\n
I told him about the laptop.<\/p>\n
Not everything.<\/p>\n
I could not yet make myself describe all the photographs or the notes about dosage. But I told him there were folders with women\u2019s names, messages from customers, and entries that suggested Dererick had been doing this for months.<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson sat back slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cJesus.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere was a notebook.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAt home.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou left it there?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI photographed it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n
He said that immediately, decisively.<\/p>\n
It steadied me.<\/p>\n
I pulled out my phone.<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson looked through the first several photographs in silence.<\/p>\n
The light from the screen sharpened the lines around his mouth.<\/p>\n
When he reached the page that read Do not allow unsupervised departure, he stopped.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis was written about you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
He enlarged the image.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd this \u2018accelerate timeline\u2019 business?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know what it means.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not an answer you need to find out alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice had changed.<\/p>\n
He no longer sounded like my slightly nosy neighbor.<\/p>\n
He sounded like a man who had made a decision.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re calling the police.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was going to.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I need to ask you something first.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cAbout Dererick.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson set my phone down carefully.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat about him?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re awake at night.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUsually.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you seen him leave our house late?\u201d<\/p>\n
His eyes went toward the window.<\/p>\n
That tiny movement told me the answer before he spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
My skin went cold.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow often?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know exactly.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGuess.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson rubbed one thumb against the rim of his mug.<\/p>\n
\u201cOnce or twice a week. Sometimes more.\u201d<\/p>\n
My breath stalled.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor how long?\u201d<\/p>\n
He frowned as he thought.<\/p>\n
\u201cMonths.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow many?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnna, I couldn\u2019t swear to dates.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not asking you to swear. Just tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n
He glanced at the ceiling.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe nine months. Ten.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mind returned to the oldest photographs in my folder.<\/p>\n
Eight months.<\/p>\n
Dererick had been leaving late before he began documenting me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere did he go?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI have no idea.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid he always take his car?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
That word made me look up sharply.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes someone picked him up.\u201d<\/p>\n
I gripped the edge of the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat kind of car?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDifferent ones.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDifferent people?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI couldn\u2019t see who was driving.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMen? Women?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMostly couldn\u2019t tell.\u201d<\/p>\n
He paused.<\/p>\n
\u201cOne person was a woman.\u201d<\/p>\n
My thoughts scattered.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow do you know?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe got out once.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCouple months ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCan you describe her?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson closed his eyes briefly.<\/p>\n
\u201cForties, maybe. Dark coat. Shoulder-length hair. She stood by the curb and smoked while she waited.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid Dererick know her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe came out and hugged her.\u201d<\/p>\n
Not a romantic hug, he clarified.<\/p>\n
Brief.<\/p>\n
Familiar.<\/p>\n
Then they both got into the car.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat color?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCar?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSilver. Maybe gray.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMake?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry. Cars aren\u2019t my thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
I pressed my fingers against my temple.<\/p>\n
Someone else.<\/p>\n
A woman.<\/p>\n
A participant?<\/p>\n
A customer?<\/p>\n
One of the women from the folders?<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat else?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson looked uncomfortable.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s more.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cTell me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes he carried things.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe black bag?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat black bag?\u201d<\/p>\n
I described it.<\/p>\n
He shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. Bigger.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow big?\u201d<\/p>\n
He spread his hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cDuffel. Dark color. Long.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat was in it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo idea.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWas it heavy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLooked like it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I swallowed.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow heavy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnna.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease.\u201d<\/p>\n
He thought.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe carried it with both hands a couple times.\u201d<\/p>\n
Every ugly possibility arrived at once.<\/p>\n
I forced them away.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid he ever bring it back?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOne night he left with one and came back without it.\u201d<\/p>\n
The kitchen seemed to contract around me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson stood and walked toward a wall calendar near the refrigerator.<\/p>\n
Most of the squares contained little handwritten notes.<\/p>\n
Dental appointment.<\/p>\n
Garbage pickup.<\/p>\n
Call Jim.<\/p>\n
He flipped backward two months.<\/p>\n
Then three.<\/p>\n
\u201cI might have written it down.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause there were people outside.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat people?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTwo men.\u201d<\/p>\n
He continued flipping.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought something was wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n
My heart began pounding.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did you see?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDererick came out around one-thirty. Maybe two. There was a van.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat kind?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhite cargo van.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you get the plate?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPart of it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou wrote it down?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you, I thought something was wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n
He ran a finger over a calendar page.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere.\u201d<\/p>\n
He lifted the calendar from its hook and placed it in front of me.<\/p>\n
In one square, beneath a note about a plumber, he had written:<\/p>\n
White van. 3KJ? 718. D + 2 men. 1:48 a.m.<\/p>\n
My pulse jumped.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan I take a picture?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTake the calendar.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t want to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTake it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I photographed the page anyway.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson sat down again.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe van parked without lights.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAcross from our house?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTwo houses down.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOne man went to your door.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFront door?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid he knock?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
The room fell silent.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow did he get in?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI assumed Dererick let him in.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou saw that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. I saw the man go to the porch. A minute later he wasn\u2019t there.\u201d<\/p>\n
My skin prickled.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen Dererick came out?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe twenty minutes later.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWith the duffel?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd the two men?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOne walked with him. The other was already near the van.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened to the bag?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey loaded it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cInto the van.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
I could barely hear my next question.<\/p>\n
\u201cWas I home?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson\u2019s face tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cI believe so.\u201d<\/p>\n
A wave of nausea rolled through me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour car was there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat doesn\u2019t prove anything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you see me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood and paced to the sink.<\/p>\n
For months, I had thought the danger came after tea.<\/p>\n
Now I could not stop imagining strangers entering my house while I lay unconscious upstairs.<\/p>\n
Maybe customers had not merely received photographs.<\/p>\n
Maybe permanent access was not a future plan.<\/p>\n
Maybe it had already happened in some form.<\/p>\n
I braced both hands against the counter.<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson gave me space.<\/p>\n
After a moment he said, \u201cThere\u2019s something else.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed once without humor.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course there is.\u201d<\/p>\n
He ignored the remark.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe night with the van, your bedroom light came on.\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot the regular lamp. Brighter.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe camera?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know. Your curtains glowed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor how long?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTwenty minutes. Maybe half an hour.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you didn\u2019t call anyone?\u201d<\/p>\n
Regret crossed his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought you were awake.\u201d<\/p>\n
The anger came fast and unfair.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou saw strange men enter my house at two in the morning.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI saw one man go to your porch and Dererick later carrying a bag. I had no reason then to think\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
He stopped.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n
The anger vanished as quickly as it arrived.<\/p>\n
He had been a neighbor looking across a quiet suburban street.<\/p>\n
I had been the wife sleeping inside that house.<\/p>\n
Neither of us had understood what we were seeing.<\/p>\n
I sat again.<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson pushed his phone toward me.<\/p>\n
\u201cCall.\u201d<\/p>\n
I dialed 911.<\/p>\n
The dispatcher answered almost immediately.<\/p>\n
I gave my name.<\/p>\n
My address.<\/p>\n
Then I heard myself say, \u201cMy husband has been drugging me, and I have evidence he may be doing it to other women.\u201d<\/p>\n
The sentence changed everything.<\/p>\n
It made the night official.<\/p>\n
The dispatcher asked whether Dererick was present.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Whether I was injured.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Whether I was safe where I was.<\/p>\n
I looked at Mr. Peterson.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor the moment.\u201d<\/p>\n
She told me officers were being sent.<\/p>\n
Then came a question I had not expected.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you know where your husband is now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe said he was going to Chicago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you know his flight information?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVehicle?\u201d<\/p>\n
I gave the make, model, color and plate.<\/p>\n
The dispatcher asked me to remain inside.<\/p>\n
I agreed.<\/p>\n
After the call ended, Mr. Peterson locked the back door too.<\/p>\n
We waited.<\/p>\n
Five minutes passed.<\/p>\n
Then ten.<\/p>\n
Every vehicle sound made my shoulders tighten.<\/p>\n
At 4:11, headlights entered the street.<\/p>\n
I moved away from the window.<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson approached carefully.<\/p>\n
\u201cPolice.\u201d<\/p>\n
Two patrol cars stopped in front of his house without sirens.<\/p>\n
Relief hit me hard enough to make my knees weak.<\/p>\n
Then my phone vibrated.<\/p>\n
Dererick again.<\/p>\n
This time it was not a message.<\/p>\n
He was calling.<\/p>\n
I stared at his name on the screen.<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t answer.\u201d<\/p>\n
The phone stopped.<\/p>\n
Three seconds later, it rang again.<\/p>\n
My skin went cold.<\/p>\n
Police officers were walking toward the front door.<\/p>\n
The call stopped.<\/p>\n
A text appeared.<\/p>\n
Anna, why are you at Peterson\u2019s?<\/p>\n
I looked across the street.<\/p>\n
Our house was dark.<\/p>\n
No one stood outside.<\/p>\n
No car was parked nearby.<\/p>\n
Dererick was supposed to be miles away.<\/p>\n
Yet somehow, at that exact moment, he knew precisely where I was.<\/p>\n
Mr. Peterson opened his front door before I reached the second step. He stood behind the storm door in a red flannel robe with a ceramic mug in one hand, … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":13640,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13645","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-insightdrama"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13645","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=13645"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13645\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13669,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13645\/revisions\/13669"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/13640"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=13645"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=13645"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=13645"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}