When Terror Strikes Part 3
By: Stacy L.
PART 3
Gary awoke the next morning, quickly showering and dressing then entered the bar where Marissa sat waiting for him. Gary said, "Well hello Marissa. How...how long have you been here?"
"An hour."
"An hour?"
"Yes. I had to run some quick errands this morning so I got an early start. How do you feel today?"
"Good..."
"Get much rest last night?"
"A little..."
"What's the paper have for you today?"
"Nothing yet."
"Nothing? You mean that you're finally getting a day off?"
"No I mean I haven't even looked at it yet. I'm sure there's something in there the paper will want me to stop."
"Gary, tell me honestly...how do you really feel?"
Gary glanced up at his friend seeing nothing but concern and worry for him in her facial features. He inhaled deeply then glanced away. Should he tell her how he was really feeling? He hated upsetting her, or making her worry excessively for him. He often felt guilty, as if he was dumping all of his problems into her lap. He hated to burden her in such a way.
Marissa noticed how Gary fell immediately silent. His silence only confirmed her worries regarding him. His silence stretched on for what seemed like hours then he suddenly cleared his throat and exhaled.
Gary looked away from Marissa. He knew his prolonged silence was doing very little to curb and dispel any of Marissa's worries. Instead his silence was making things worse. He quickly ran his right hand through his hair as he contemplated. Then he broke the silence, "I won't lie to you, Marissa. I...I'm not doing the greatest. Yes, I've been getting a lot more rest in the last day or two but...it's still not enough. To put it bluntly, I'm...well, I'm wiped out..."
Marissa reached for Gary's hand and as soon as she felt the warmth of his closed fist under her own hand she gave it an affectionate squeeze saying, "Thank you."
Gary looked at her puzzled. He inquired, "For what?"
"Telling me the truth...for being honest with me."
"You're welcome. I just don't like making you worry..."
"Gary, regardless of whether you admit to being tired or not I will worry about you. You could tell me you're perfectly fine, that you never felt better in your life, and I would still worry about you. Worrying comes with friendship, Gary. Worrying is just part of the territory. I care about you. I love you and no matter what you say I will still worry about you. If I didn't care about you I wouldn't be so concerned for you."
Gary smiled slightly. Marissa could sense his weak smile. It was an encouraging sign. Gary thanked her for her concern then looked at his paper. Marissa asked, "So anything about your mystery woman?"
"Nope. Not yet anyway."
"Maybe she was just unfortunate..."
"I still think the attacks on her are intentional."
Gary continued reading through the newspaper when an article caught his attention, "I…oh no, no, NO!"
"What?"
"She's here...in the paper again."
Gary began to read the article feeling more and more uneasy the more he read.
Marissa interrupted, "What?"
"Right here."
"What happens?"
"She's harassed in a store. It says here that she gets struck in the face and hits her head. She ends up with a concussion."
"Who would harass her?"
"I don't know but this will be the third time in a matter of only a few days that something has happened to her. Someone is after her."
"I'm beginning to think you may be right. What time does the incident occur?"
"Around ten this morning."
"And what time is it now?"
"Eight...I have two hours. I'm beginning to think this woman is bad luck or something."
"Now Gary..."
"Marissa, she's like a magnet for trouble...where she goes trouble is sure to follow..."
"Some people say the same about you..." interrupted a new voice. Paul Armstrong had stopped by to ask Gary more about the woman who had accused him of attacking her. When he had entered McGinty's he could see that Gary and his friend were wrapped up in a deep conversation. He hated to interrupt but had to sometime so he approached the two. He heard Gary saying that some woman was like a magnet for trouble; where she went trouble followed. Armstrong couldn't resist teasing the man just a little bit.
Gary quickly scarfed up his newspaper rolling it up then nervously glanced at Marissa. He cleared his throat then focused on Armstrong, nodding his head in acknowledgement he muttered, "Detective Armstrong."
“Hobson, how are you?”
“Well…good, good. I’m good an…and you?”
Armstrong smiled even more as he immediately picked up on Gary’s anxiousness and nervousness his stumbling over words was a classic. He also noticed how Hobson cleared his throat first before speaking. It was kind of scary that he was bumping into Hobson so often that he was beginning to be able to read the man’s body language fairly easily. The man wasn’t very good at concealing things. The more he worked and associated with Gary Hobson the easier it became to read the man. He was convinced that Hobson was good at heart and had nothing but good intentions in mind whenever he did anything, but it just so happened that the man also had an uncanny knack for getting involved where there was trouble. He found himself drawn to the newspaper that Gary had scarfed up so quickly upon his arrival inquiring, “May I look at the paper?”
Gary immediately responded, “NO! No I mean uh…”
Armstrong heard warning bells and saw red flags going off in his mind upon that reaction. It was merely a newspaper so why was Hobson so protective of it? He shook his head commenting, “I just wanted to look at the hockey scores… Overreacting a little there don’t you think?”
Gary’s response was laughter, very nervous laughter. Paul continued to watch the man before him noticing how he ran his left hand through his hair as if to comb it with his fingers. He also noticed that the man was doing everything in his power to avoid any form of eye contact. The gesture was extremely familiar to him and was usually a big tip off that Hobson was feeling extremely nervous. He changed his focus as Gary suddenly asked, “Is there a reason you’re here, Detective?”
‘Nice redirect, Hobson,’ thought Paul. He was now attempting to change the subject. What was so special about that newspaper? The question burned in his mind triggering him to further inquire, “Tell me honestly, Hobson, is that paper a fetish for you or something?”
“A…a what? I’m sorry?”
Paul noted that Hobson was also very agitated, agitated as hell but why? He was very aware that he had just placed Hobson on the spot and found himself wondering why the man was suddenly so fidgety and apprehensive.
Marissa abruptly cleared her throat as if announcing that she was still in the room before saying, “Detective Armstrong, can I get you a drink or anything?”
He glanced away from Hobson and focused on Marissa responding, “Nah, no that’s all right.”
When he turned back to Hobson he was surprised to see how collected the man had gotten himself in those brief seconds his friend had distracted him. Paul decided to let the subject of the newspaper drop…for now, but his interest was extremely peaked. Why would someone be so protective of a simple newspaper? As he thought about the paper longer he suddenly realized that he had never seen Hobson without a newspaper on him…maybe the paper was just a fetish, but he highly doubted it. He was certain that there was more to that simple paper than met the eye. The big tip off was just how quickly Hobson had hedged when the subject was breeched.
Paul spoke up, keeping his eyes glued to Hobson’s face, “I came here to ask you more about the girl who accused you of attacking her…”
As the subject veered away from the topic of the paper Paul couldn’t miss the instant relief that flooded through Hobson’s body or the look in the man’s eyes as the subject of his paper was dropped. Those reactions only succeeded in making Paul even more curious than before. He wanted to continue to interrogate Gary about the paper but decided better of it. There would come another time so instead he continued, “Tell me how you met her, and why she seems to believe that you attacked her.”
Gary again cleared his throat and Armstrong patiently waited for what was sure to be a less than truthful answer from the man.
Gary spoke up, “What did you want to know?”
“For starters how did you meet?”
“Um well we never actually…met.”
“What?”
“We’ve never actually met. I kind of…bumped into her when she needed some help.”
“What happened at the park, Hobson?”
“No…nothing.”
“Look Gary, I know you don’t like being questioned. I know that you can probably think of a hundred reasons why you don’t want to be here…”
Gary replied while laughing nervously, “A…a hundred and one, actually…”
He looked at Armstrong noticing the man wasn’t laughing so he quickly said, “I’m sorry…that was rude of me. Go ahead.”
Armstrong eyed Gary up then continued, “But I need to know about this attack. The woman says she wasn’t attacked. Now she’s saying that she made a mistake.”
“What? Why?”
“She’s scared Hobson. She’s running…”
“Are…are you sure?”
“Positive and from your reaction to that comment I get the feeling that you may be thinking the same thing. She won’t ask for help and I believe she needs it. She says nothing happened to her. She says that she must’ve just been mistaken…”
“Oh she was attacked all right…”
As soon as Gary said that he mentally cursed. If Armstrong had had any previous doubts about him being in that park the other night then they were now successfully put to rest… Smart move Gary, real smart move.
Armstrong put a stop to Gary’s wandering thoughts as he interrupted, “So you were there.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Look Hobson, if my suspicions are correct then that woman is in a lot of danger. You can help me help her if you’d just answer my questions.”
A long tense silence followed that statement. Gary heard Marissa clear her throat and inhale deeply. He knew what she was thinking. She felt that he should tell Armstrong everything he knew. While he felt that it was the right thing to do he knew that like always the conversation would eventually swing around to questions about how he knew the things he did and to what great secret he was apparently hiding. Gary exhaled a tense breath before responding “I took a walk the other night because I couldn’t sleep.”
“And let me guess you took this…walk in Grant Park, didn’t you?”
Gary looked down at his hands trying to build up the courage to go on before simply nodding his head. Armstrong felt relief flood through him as he saw Hobson’s confirmation. Now he was starting to get somewhere!
Noticing the sudden silence Armstrong quickly broke it, “Go on Hobson.”
Gary glanced up at Detective Armstrong then continued, “I heard a scream.”
“A scream?”
“Yes. It was a woman’s scream so I…investigated. When I found the source of the scream I…I saw her. She was pinned to the ground. Someone was striking her…”
“Someone? Did you see them? Did you see their face?”
“No…no…they wore a ski mask.”
“Damn! Could you tell if the person was male or female?”
“Male, he was definitely male.”
“What happened then?”
“I…I tried to stop him. I knocked him off of her. We rolled around on the ground a little bit. Then he struck me. I was stunned…I recovered enough to see the man take off running.”
“And the woman?”
“She was on the ground huddled into a ball. I tried to help her but she…she kicked me then ran. I never saw her after that until…until the attempted mugging.”
“And you didn’t think to come to me, Hobson?”
“No…”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I just…I got busy.”
“You got busy? You got so busy that you couldn’t come to the station to report an attempted assault?”
“I thought it was no big deal. I helped her then left…end of story.”
“Until the attempted mugging.”
“Yes.”
“Hobson…”
“I know. I just… Look I agree with you. I believe that woman is in some sort of danger but she… We may never see her again.”
“We will if my hunch is correct. If somebody is after her then they’ll try again, of that I have no doubt. The trick is knowing where and when the next attack will occur.”
Gary’s mind flashed to the newest article in the paper about the attack on her due to occur shortly in a local store and managed an abrupt, “Yeah…” that triggered Armstrong to question, “Hobson? Hobson, are you okay?”
“Yeah…yes, I am. I was just…thinking.”
“Thinking? About what?”
“Her… I can’t help but sense that she’s…”
“In some kind of danger?”
Gary only nodded his head in agreement. Armstrong responded, “Yeah I know what you mean… Hey Hobson, you wouldn’t happen to know when this next attack is going to occur…?”
“Why…why would you ask that?”
Armstrong eyed Gary suspiciously having the oddest feeling that the man did know something but was refusing to reveal it so he replied, “Just curious… So?”
Gary looked up at him nervously, hoping that the truth wasn’t showing on his face or in his voice. He could feel his palms sweating as he prepared to lie just a little bit. He certainly wasn’t about to tell Armstrong what he knew so he responded, “No, no idea. Sorry.”
Gary noticed that Armstrong was looking at him as if he suspected he had just been lied to but if he did suspect he didn’t pursue it, which made Gary feel totally relieved. He struggled not to let that relief show on his face either.
The two talked a little while longer ending with Gary hesitantly agreeing to inform Paul immediately if he ran into the mystery woman again, and as Paul started to leave he suddenly stopped, turning around he inquired, “Are you sure I can’t look at the sport’s section?”
Immediately after the question was spoken aloud he recognized Gary’s sudden nervousness and worry tensing when the young man responded to the question a lot quicker than he should have, “It’s yesterdays.”
Yesterday’s paper, yeah right…he wasn’t buying it, but he simply responded, “Yesterdays? Now tell me Hobson, what possible reason could you have for carrying around yesterday’s newspaper?”
Gary quickly replied “I’m a collector…” then released another nervous laugh to the air.
Armstrong laughed at the answer, which as he noted put Hobson quickly at ease. Hobson was hiding something…but what? Paul decided to temporarily ignore those instincts, which screamed at him that something more was going on here. His decision made he then left McGinty’s.
After Detective Armstrong left Marissa stated, “Gary he suspects something.”
“Yeah that I’m a certifiable lunatic who has an unusual fascination with a newspaper, yesterday’s newspaper as a matter of fact.”
“Gary maybe you should tell him…about the paper.”
“NO, absolutely not. Armstrong already thinks I’m a nut case. I try explaining this paper to him he’ll have someone lock me up and throw away the key. No, Armstrong can’t know about this thing.”
“But Gary…”
“No Marissa, no.”
“You know Gary, one of these days he’s going to find out…”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Gary, you may not have a choice. What if the paper wants Armstrong to know.”
“No, he’s not going to find out. No.”
“But Gary…”
“No Marissa.”
“Gary please…”
“No.”
Marissa fell silent. Sometimes her friend could be downright…impossible. He should tell Detective Armstrong about the paper…that would explain everything. She wondered why her friend was so insistent that Armstrong not learn about his paper. Gary needed some kind of outside help to deal with the sometimes overwhelming demands of his special edition of the Chicago Sun-Times. She felt certain that once Armstrong learned of its existence he would willingly help Gary…or get him committed to a loony bin, as Gary feared. She knew that Armstrong already suspected her friend was hiding something he just hasn’t figured out what that something is. It was only a matter of time before Armstrong solved the deep dark secret of Gary Hobson. She sensed that he was like a dog with a bone…he wouldn’t give up until he discovered what the big mystery was that surrounded Gary. Armstrong seemed like the persistent type. The kind of man that would never, ever give up and accept defeat. He was the type of person that would keep on digging and digging until he found out what he wanted to know and got what he wanted. She feared that it would only be a matter of time before the detective got all of his answers.
Armstrong again left McGinty’s feeling as if Gary Hobson were hiding something from him, from everyone. Just how did the man seem to always wind up where trouble was? Some of his co-workers at the station seemed to think that the man had psychic abilities…ESP or something along those lines, but he placed little stock in that kind of bunk. There was definitely something going on with Hobson but he was positive that something had nothing to do with the unexplainable, absolutely nothing at all.
Meanwhile…
Gary collected himself. His talks with Armstrong always left him feeling a tad bit…on edge. The man just seemed to know on instinct, that he had some big secret. Armstrong also seemed to know just what buttons to push to keep him off-balance most of the time. He often found it very difficult to lie to the man. He couldn’t help but detect that Armstrong was beginning to see through all of his necessary deceptions…and that thought did not sit very easily with him. The last thing he needed was to have someone, a police officer no less, suspecting that he had some odd intuition and incite into future events that no person on this earth should have.
Gary casually glanced at his watch but once he noticed the time he jumped to his feet saying, “Marissa, I have to get going.”
“Where are you going?”
“To help our mystery woman.”
“Again?”
“Yes, remember the concussion?”
“In the store? Yes…Gary, be careful.”
“I will.”
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