THE STALKER
by
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PROLOGUE
SHE COULDN’T BELIEVE WHAT HAD HAPPENED to her. A few hours ago she had felt like she had died and gone to heaven. But, now, she felt like she was in a living hell. The taught, sticky bindings burned her wrists and ankles. And it was stuffy inside the old closet. A thick, impenetrable darkness consumed her. The tiny space smelled of moldy dust and rat dung. She felt as though she had been interred inside a tomb. “I can’t breathe! Where is the air? I need air! God, please help me.”
PART 1 - THE ABDUCTION
CHAPTER 1
JENNY GAVE A WALLOP TO THE STOP button after three monotonous miles around the digital track. The perspiration trickled down her neck like cool morning dew on a warm windowpane. Jenny dabbed the salty beads from her brow as she grabbed the rail and trudged up the stairs for a well-deserved bubble bath. But her beckoning bath would have to wait awhile longer. “Hello?”
“Hey, girl, it’s me,” Tina said. “What are you up to?”
“I just finished up my run on the treadmill and was about to take a bath to wash off the ick. What are you doing?”
“I’m babysitting my geek of a little brother. My mom and dad bribed me with ten bucks to watch the little Insect so they could go out to dinner. It’s their date night. Yuk!”
“OMG!” Jenny suddenly felt lightheaded and confused. Then Jenny started to slur her words. “Hey, Jen, I think maybe you need to go get something to eat.”
“Woe! Hold on a sec, Tina. I think I need to go get something to eat. I’ll be right back.”
“Great idea, Jen! Why don’t you go get something to eat?” Tina couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s confusion.
Jenny was in a brain fog; but, she was able to think clearly enough to recognize what she needed to do. So, she tossed the phone onto her pillow, and then scooted down the stairs to the kitchen to wolf down a quick snack. Jenny stopped momentarily to scold Mr. Skittles, her two-year-old schnauzer, who was ferociously barking and growling at the back door. Then, she turned her attention back to her plummeting glucose, and grabbed the peanut butter and jelly from the fridge. She flipped up the lid and squirted some of the fruity elixir directly into her mouth, before she squirted a glob onto a piece of fresh whole-wheat bread.
Mr. Skittles’ persistent snarling at the back door startled Jenny. Suddenly, she stood motionless like a doe sensing danger as she looked back at Mr. Skittles. Jenny quickly scanned the large room, then her eyes stopped, and locked fixedly on the unlocked door. Jenny was instantly gripped with a paralyzing fear by her newly exposed vulnerability. The bottle of jelly slipped from her fingertips as she made an audible gasp and leaped across the kitchen floor to secure the deadbolt on the cold metal door.
Chills shot from every sliver of Jenny’s spine as she swiped the jar of Skippy’s from the countertop and crept out of the kitchen. She peeked around the corner at the security alarm in the entryway for verification its ARMED light burned red. Then, she anxiously scooped up Mr. Skittles, and scaled the staircase back to her bedroom.
Jenny crawled onto her bed with the jar of peanut butter, and crossed her legs yoga style. She lifted the telephone to her ear then whispered, “Tina, have you ever felt like someone was watching you?”
Tina shot back, “Are you kidding me, you know my freak of a little brother spies on me all the time!”
“No, I don’t mean like that, Tina. I mean like when a stranger is watching you. The thought of it gives me goose bumps, and makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. It gives me the heebie jeebies.”
“Oh, yeah! I know what you mean,” Tina said, “I’ve felt like that before. What’s wrong? What’s going on, Jen?”
“When I went downstairs, just now, Mr. Skittles wouldn’t stop barking. He tried to rip apart the back door. I’m here by myself, Tina, ’cause mom and dad are still at work, and Ron is out with Megan.”
“Oh, no! Stop it, girl! Now you’re giving me the heebie jeebies.” An unnerved Tina glanced across her dimly lit room at the massive open window. She lunged forward and tugged at the double nylon strings. The blinds instantly dropped to obscure her silhouette. Tina had suddenly felt like Jack the Ripper had been standing in the shadows outside, peering at her through the open window.
Jenny licked the peanut butter from her finger and responded with a forced laugh, “You think I’m giving you the heebie jeebies, you ought to trade places with me, girl. My goose bumps have goose bumps.”
Then, the little Insect unexpectedly jumped out of his hiding place, from behind Tina’s bedroom door. Tina screamed into the telephone then hurled the wireless device across the room like a two-pound shot put. The phone whizzed by the little Insect, just barely missing his head, as he dashed from the bedroom battlefield into the safety of the hallway bunker.
“Tina!” Jenny yelled. “What’s going on?”
Tina switched on her bedside lamp for some instant courage before she rushed to retrieve the battle-hardened phone. “Hello, Jenny, are you still there?”
“Yeah! What’s going on?”
“That little Insect scared the bejeebes out of me. Stay out of here Freddie,” Tina yelled. Then she asked, “You still want to trade places with me, Jen?”
“Nope, I’m good!”
Tina said, “Hey, did you hear about those two dead girls they found? One was nine and I think the other was only seven.”
Jenny struggled to swallow the thick tacky paste that clogged her throat. “That was random! No, where? Here?”
“No, not here,” Tina answered. “One of them was in Alabama. They said on the news that this little girl disappeared while she was walking home from school. Her mom freaked out after the little girl hadn’t come home when she was supposed to. Her mom and dad looked everywhere for her, but they couldn’t find her. So, after a couple of hours, her parents called the cops. There were like three hundred people from her church that searched for her throughout the night. The cops finally found her body the next day -- in the garbage. Isn’t that twisted?”
“OMG!” Jenny exclaimed.
“Yeah,” Tina continued with her chilling tale, “they also said on the news that there were over one hundred sex offenders living within a ten mile radius of her house.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep! And the other little girl lived somewhere in Tennessee, I think. They found her in this wooded area after some sicko told ’em where to find her body.”
“Well, thanks a lot Tina, you’ve just given me another set of goose bumps!”
“Oh, sorry,” Tina giggled. “Well did you hear about that 16-year-old girl --”
“Stop it, Tina!”
Tina cackled. “No, wait, this isn’t scary, I promise. There’s this sixteen-year-old girl who plans to be the first to sail solo around the world. She’ll get her name put into the Guinness World Records book. Isn’t that kool? It’ll take her about six months. Can you imagine being out in the middle of the never-ending ocean for six whole months, all alone, just you and a bazillion bloodthirsty sharks?”
“Tina!” Jenny yelled.
***** The peeping tom had only been able to examine the layout of the place for a few seconds before he was forced to prematurely retreat. Mr. Skittles had detected his scent and started to bark. The Stalker mumbled something under his breath as he snuck back to his truck and quietly climbed behind the wheel. Then, he drove a ways down the street before switching on his headlights to ensure his clandestine getaway.
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About the Book
The Stalker is an intriguing tale of abduction and struggle for survival. The obsession by one law enforcement officer to crack the case is complimented with teen romance and tragedy. The Novel has a compelling, complex plot, masterfully interwoven subplots, with plenty of mystery and something for readers of all genres. An unexpected final twist will leave readers to say to themselves, “WHAT?” The Author leaves her readers with one caveat, "The next time you are home, alone, or step into the shower, be sure to look over your shoulder for someone might be stalking you!"
About the Author
Pracilla Goldstein is an exciting new author on the teen and young adult scene. The Stalker was based upon the true life event of a nearly fatal missed diagnosis, and the subsequent struggle by Ms. Goldstein's daughter to survive with an incurable, although manageable, disease. Pracilla is currently working on a prequel to The Stalker. Ms. Goldstein was born and raised in the Texas Panhandle located within the infamous tornado alley. As a child, Pracilla and her family scurried underground on numerous occasions to seek shelter from the indiscriminate brutality of Mother Nature’s ire. The Panhandle also known for its leg-stinging dirt devils, tumbling tumbleweeds and blowing horizontal snowstorms has weather to suit residents with a flavor for all seasons. One day stands out in particular in Pracilla’s mind as a teen. She arose in the morning to a blue sky and bright, warm sunshine. Giant plumes of fluffy benign clouds billowed across the sky, but were soon surreptitiously supplanted with rumbling thunderheads. The black clouds soon gave way to a frog-drowning gully washer. That afternoon, a blue-norther blew in and turned the liquid precipitation into small pellets of ice and snow. Then, just as quickly as the storm blew in, it blew out, and the snow melted as the sun, again, emerged from it's heavenly hiding place. There is a saying amongst the locals of the Texas Panhandle, "If you don't like the weather, just stick around awhile." Ms. Goldstein retired in 2003 after a twenty year career in the legal profession. She presently resides in central Texas with her three adult children and their spouses. Pracilla has been blessed with five wonderful grandchildren.