I WAS HEADING “HOME” to Joe’s apartment, battling rush-hour traffic, when my cell phone rang. I jacked the phone off my hip, heard Yuki’s voice screaming my name.
Lindsay! He’s stalking me.
Who? Who’s stalking you
That freak! Jason Twilly.
Slow down. Back up. What do you mean ‘stalking
I jerked the wheel left at the intersection of Townsend and Seventh instead of taking a right toward my former apartment on the Hill. It felt like I was swimming against the tide.
Yuki’s voice was shrill. “Stalking as in haunting me, dogging me. Ten minutes ago, he was sitting in the passenger seat of my car
He broke into your car
I don’t know. I can’t remember if I locked it. I was carrying like a fifty-pound
The signal cut out. I hit speed dial, got Yuki’s outgoing message, disconnected, tried again.
Fifty-pound what?” I called into the crackle.
Fifty-pound box of files. I just got my key into the door lock when this arm reached over from inside the car and pushed the door open for me.
Before this car thing, did you tell him to leave you alone
Yes! Did I ever
Okay, then, it’s illegal for him to be inside your car,” I said, negotiating a lane switch, passing a rental car whose driver leaned on the horn and gave me the finger.
You ready to swear out a complaint?” I asked Yuki. “He’s going to go public. So think about it.
There was a moment of static-filled silence as Yuki considered the media ramifications.
This guy is sick, Linds. He talks to me like I’m a character in his book. He’s twisted and maybe dangerous. He got into my car. What’s next
Okay,” I said, pulling over to the curb. I took out my notepad and wrote down what Yuki had told me.
You’re going to have to go to civil court in the morning, get a restraining order,” I said. “But effective now you’ve filed a police report.
Tomorrow morning? Lindsay, Jason Twilly wants to scare the hell out of me - and he’s doing it
