Lane, its so weird. A few days ago someone stole my underwear. Nothing else was taken from the house; just my underwear, Allison repeated.
Are you sure, someone took them? Maybe you put them away in another drawer, I suggested.
Im not talking about one or two pieces. Someone stole all my underwear, clean and dirty, she whispered. Her cheeks changed from a rose petal pink to a bright carnation red.
That is odd. Did you check all your jewelry?
I checked and rechecked, nothing else was taken, only my underwear. I called the police. They suggested that one of Brandons friends might have taken them. Brandon hasnt been home for months. Hes away at college. Hes over twenty-one, and his friends arent interested in my underwear.
Allison, you must have some idea who stole them.
I hate to accuse her without proof, she hesitated then blurted out, Im embarrassed to say this, but Im being stalked by a woman.
I almost choked on a mouthful of coffee. A woman? Did you tell the police?
Of course I did and they had the same reaction you did, shock and laughter. I let them read some of the intimate letters I received from Wanda Woodson, thats my stalkers name. They snickered and asked me if I had an affair with her. Lane, it was so embarrassing. They promised me they would question her, but made it perfectly clear that without proof that she stole my underwear, and without a threat of bodily harm, there really wasnt much they could do. It was a waste of time, they made me feel silly, she explained as she paced up and down the huge pristine kitchen.
What does Mark think? I asked. Mark is Allisons husband. He made his first million before he turned twenty-five, and brags about it every chance he gets. I tolerate Mark because of my friendship with Allison. Hes stuck-up and arrogant, always trying to impress everyone with his money and status. Hes short, bald and baggy-faced. He has a habit of talking down to everyone, including Allison. But, who am I to say what attracts one person to another. Apparently, Allison saw something good in him; shes stayed married to him for twenty-two years.
Allison refilled my cup with her special blend of vanilla-cinnamon coffee and continued the conversation. At first Mark thought I was having an affair. I had to do a lot of talking before hed believe I really didnt know this woman and I certainly didnt have an affair with her. Dont look at me like that, Lane.
Im sorry Allison. I guess Im kind of shocked that Mark didnt believe you. I tried to hide my disgust and contempt of Mark from her, but being such close friends, she could easily read my expression.
Now, Mark thinks its funny. You know a lesbian in love with me. He told me not to worry about it. He thinks shell eventually get tired of following me. He told me Im making a mountain out of a molehill, that Im enjoying all the attention shes giving me. Lane, Mark is wrong. I just want Wanda Woodson to leave me alone. Thats why I called you. I know everyone thinks its funny, but I dont. Im starting to feel like a prisoner. Im afraid to go anywhere. Im always looking over my shoulder. Please help me. Ill pay you, of course.
What is it you want me to do, Allison?
Maybe you can talk to her and get her to stop following me. Lane, shes really odd. If you saw the way she looks at me, youd understand.
The back door slammed shut and Mark entered the kitchen. He was still the same obnoxious jerk I remembered. He walked over to Allison and kissed her cheek. He took a cookie out of her hand and placed it in the sink. Youll never get rid of those extra pounds by stuffing yourself, sweetheart.
I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling him off. Mark was overweight and borderline ugly. Allison was trim, with lustrous natural blond hair and creamy rose-petal skin. The only extra pounds she needed to get rid of were on Mark.
Hi, Lane. Has our little Allison told you about her lesbian friend? Personally, I think the whole thing is rather silly. But anything you can do to make Allison happy and at ease would be appreciated. He put his hand on Allisons shoulder. We discussed it last night and I think a word or two from a private investigator might scare her suitor off. Ill double whatever you usually charge. Just take care of it. I want it done right away, and I dont want any nasty publicity. Its imperative that you keep the police out of it. I dont know how Allison got herself in this mess. But, of course, Ill be the one who has to bail her out. No one will ever be able to accuse me of not taking care of my wife. Allison, are you sure you dont want to have an affair with your mysterious devotee? Marks sense of humor stunk. I laughed even though I wanted to haul off and punch his puffy face. I knew it was time to leave before I said something I might regret. I shook hands with Mark and gave him what he deserveda phony smile.
Allison and I were standing by my car chitchatting when I noticed Mark peeking through the curtains spying on us. If he wanted to know what we were saying, why didnt he just come outside and join us? Did he think we were conspiring against him? I couldnt help it; an irresistible urge to be bitchy came over me. I waved, just to let him know I saw him. It worked. The curtains closed.
Allison, the next time your stalker makes an appearance, call me. Ill come right over and have a talk with Ms. Woodson. Once she realizes youre not interested in her, she should leave you alone.
I drove home feeling confident that I could handle this little problem. I thought all that was needed was a little diplomacy and firmness. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening; my life would never be the same.
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