Chapter 2

Trent hurried into the small brick building that served as Marshall Construction’s headquarters. He glanced at his watch. Thirty-minutes late. He couldn’t believe it. How could he be thirty minutes late?

“Ah, finally made it, eh?” Brad Marshall, his boss, said once he saw Trent. Somehow the older, gruffer man didn’t seem all that upset that Trent was late. 

“Yeah,” Trent replied and blew out a breath. “I guess I still haven’t fixed the power issue. It must have gone out sometime during the night and screwed up my alarm.”

Brad laughed, buying Trent’s lie. “And here I thought you kids used your phone for everything.”

Trent shared his laugh with a shrug. “I like a bit of old school, but I will make sure I have a backup until I’m sure I got the power issues fixed.”

Brad’s phone rang and he sighed when he looked at the display. “If that’s Johnny telling me Alex didn’t show up at the sight again I’m gonna-” he growled out.

“Remember your blood pressure, Boss,” Patty, his secretary reminded him. 

Brad grunted as he answered the phone, walking towards his office. Judging by the shouts, Trent heard as he slammed the door sounded like it was indeed Johnny calling about this Alex. He hadn’t met the construction workers very much. As the company’s Client consultant, he dealt mostly with the office people. Slumping into his desk, he let out a sigh of relief that his boss wasn’t all that upset with him. He picked up his agenda, passing over the work for the day, deciding to bust out the work to make up for the time he had missed.

Despite being busy, Trent’s mind kept going back to the stack of papers. Again, he asked himself - why would someone send that to him? Was there something dangerous in it? Had his neighbor broken in or was she planning something sinister? The content so far had been pretty mundane, and personal. They were too personal for him to be reading or for someone to give him.

Dangerous or not, Trent decided that the right thing to do was to throw them away. As soon as he got home, he tossed them in the empty trash can. Determined to go about his day, he went to take a shower and then started dinner. However, his eyes kept drifting to the trash can. No, he told himself. He was not going to read any more of them. When he finished, he did some work around the house and watched some T.V.

The whole time, Trent kept reminding himself, the right and decent thing to do was not to read another word. However, after fifteen minutes of trying to watch T.V., he got up and fished the papers out of the trash can. His neighbor could be dangerous, he reasoned with himself. It would be in his best interest to ensure she wasn’t deranged or something - or at least that is what he told himself as he sat down on the couch.

—What a hypocrite! That’s what I am! After what I said to Harry about how peeping is such a gross invasion of privacy I am here doing the exact thing! I just looked up from my window in the kitchen and saw him pouring himself a cup of something. I should have just looked down and minded my own business, but instead, I hid behind my curtains and watched him. I think he has brown eyes but I’m not sure which isn’t the point!

The point is later today I did it again! I saw him working on the Johnson's back door or well, I guess it’s his back door now. It was only a glance, but when I saw him, I was simply stuck. Again, I hid behind the curtains and watched him work. I’m so ashamed of myself. A peeping tom - Me!

I keep doing it! I’m so mad at myself. It’s been a week and I can’t stop doing it! Maybe it’s my curiosity getting the better of me. No one seems to know much more about him other than he came from the west. That must be it. Maybe Christie is right. I should just go over and say hello, that way I can satisfy my curiosity and end this peeping once and for all.

He almost saw me yesterday. I don’t think he saw me because I was pretty hidden. I would have been mortified if he saw me. This should have been enough to get me to wake up and smell the coffee on how wrong I’m behaving, but God help me it was kind of exciting. What’s worse is I’ve started making up fantasies—

Trent stopped reading and set the papers down on the coffee table. The feeling of being spied on unnerving. Was that why whoever had given him these papers? To warn him? Nervously, he glanced over at the window. The house appeared to be dark, but that only made him feel more uncomfortable. She could be watching him right now. Trent got up and drew the curtains over the window. The show was over!

Trent left the papers and went upstairs to get some sleep. He laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep was being elusive and he couldn’t stop thinking about what he had read. The feeling of being watched just wouldn’t leave him, even though his bedroom didn’t face her house. Horrified, he realized his bathroom did, however. What had she seen? What fantasies was she talking about? He had moved across the country to get away from women like her.

Trent was exhausted the next morning. He did his best to avoid the uncovered windows facing his neighbor’s house. During the whole day, he debated what he should do. Should he call the police? Should he confront her and demand she mind her own business? Perhaps this was someone’s sad idea of a prank?

When he got home from work, Trent sat back down on the couch and picked up the next sheet of paper. He had to know more before he did something like calling the police.

-It was kind of exciting almost being caught. What’s worse, I’ve started making up fantasies about who he is and why he’s here in town as I watch him.

Trent blew out a breath as he leaned back on the couch. At least it wasn’t the type of fantasies he had at first thought. Though, to his surprise, Trent also was a little disappointed. ‘Really man,’ he swore at himself.  With a shake of his head, he continued reading.

—It’s silly, I know, but it’s not any worse than being a peeping tom. I made up whole stories in my head. One was he was a secret agent looking for the double agent who had double-crossed him while they were on a mission in Iraq. The double agent was Tommy Griffin…he’s always into those awful Bond movies so I could see him being a double agent. I do feel kind of bad, though. They had a shootout and poor Tommy ended up full of lead.—

Despite himself, Trent started laughing. A secret agent? He hated guns, and this Tommy Griffin seemed like he was even less spy material than Trent was. He met him a few times when he stopped at the corner gas station/repair shop just off Main Street. Again, Trent continued to read.

—Yesterday’s was he’d come to town looking for his estranged father. When he was only five, his father suddenly up and left his family. No good-byes, no explanation, nothing. After nearly dying in a warehouse fire back west, he’s decided to investigate his father’s sudden departure. The P.I. he hired said Maplewood was his father’s last known location, so he’s come here to try and find him.

His father was Old Mackenzie. I think I heard he was from Oregon…not sure, but anyways Old Mackenzie came here because he was ashamed he had become afraid of fire. Whoever heard of a firefighter who was afraid of fire? Today is he’s come looking for the love of his life. They met briefly at a train station out west, but he knew she was the one for him. He tracked her down to her home town of Maplewood, hoping to win her over.

I think Rachel is a good candidate. I haven’t decided yet, but either way, I think this proves I’m just bored, not going insane as I thought. It’s not like I think I love him or any of that craziness. Okay, I’m attracted to him, but what straight woman wouldn’t be - the guy is hot! It’s not like I want to sneak into his house and wear his clothes or tie him up and hold him hostage in my basement—

Once again Trent was laughing despite himself. This woman did have one hell of an imagination. Again, time got away from him though and he set down the papers. At least, she didn’t seem dangerous. Like she said herself, just bored. If Trent didn’t have the house to work on, he could see himself going a little stir crazy with boredom. With a yawn, he went upstairs to get some sleep.