CHATROOM LOVE
Chapter Forty-Three

In the days that followed, the stalking continued. Rose found new notes in her locker almost daily, and received so many phone calls with nothing but heavy breathing and a quick hang-up that she called the phone company to see if the calls could be traced. The few times her caller ID actually showed what number the calls were coming from, they turned out to be from pay phones scattered around Edmonton. Some days, the number of calls she got were so overwhelming that she simply logged onto the Internet and left it logged on, whether she was using it or not. One afternoon, when Ruth had come home earlier than expected, she answered the phone to find the heavy breather on the other end and said some things that Rose wouldn’t have expected from her usually polite mother.

Rose got similar calls on her cell phone, including one in the middle of class after she forgot to turn her phone off. The annoyed teacher confiscated the phone, and Ruth had to come to the school and pick it up. She lectured Rose sternly about remembering to turn off her cell phone when she was at school, but still returned it to her, knowing that her daughter was being stalked and might need the phone to call for help.

Rose tried getting her cell phone number changed, which worked for a couple of days, but then the calls began again. She was more convinced than ever that Cal was the stalker, as he knew people who worked for the company that provided her cell phone service and could have obtained her new number from them.

The obscene e-mails continued, too, some detailing exactly what the stalker wished to do to Rose, while others detailed what she had done that day, indicating that she was being watched. Rose forwarded the e-mails to her mother and her friends until one of the e-mails proved to have a virus attached, after which Helga regretfully asked her to stop forwarding them, as her host parents didn’t have an anti-virus program and the e-mail had nearly destroyed their computer.

Rose received several anonymous letters in the mail, too—all without a return address, and all postmarked in Edmonton. She took them to the police, but although they were polite, they also indicated that they didn’t believe her, and soon stopped accepting the letters and notes she tried to turn over to them, stating that they could find no evidence that Mr. Hockley was responsible. Rose was angry and frustrated, and almost wished that Cal would do something so that she could prove she wasn’t making things up.

Late in January, Rose had a chance to confront Cal. He had appeared at several of the same places as her, always appearing to have some business there. He had come into the McDonald’s Rose and her friends most often went to, and though he had sat on the other side of the room, Rose had caught him staring at her several times. He had also shown up at the mall at the same time as Rose and Dawn, which made her even more suspicious—while they dating, Cal had indicated more than once that he hated malls—and he hadn’t appeared to be buying anything when she and Dawn caught sight of him.

Rose was at the country club when she finally confronted him. It was a Saturday, and she and Dawn had just finished playing tennis when Rose caught sight of him standing near their court.

Her blood boiled at the sight of him. "Goddammit!" she muttered to Dawn. "Why won’t he leave me alone?"

Dawn turned to see who Rose was looking at. Cal was standing near their court, ostensibly talking to Mr. Lovejoy, who looked annoyed.

"He’s following me! Why doesn’t anyone believe me?"

"I believe you, Rose," Dawn assured her. She looked around. "Maybe we should just leave while he’s occupied."

"No." Rose’s eyes narrowed. "I overheard Mr. Lovejoy talking about Cal to my mother one evening when they thought I was out. He said, and I quote, ‘Cal Hockley is the worst tennis player I’ve ever seen. He doesn’t make the slightest effort to understand the rules of the game, and appears to be playing more for the sake of wasting my time than anything else.’ And you know how Mr. Lovejoy feels about people who can’t play tennis."

Dawn giggled a little. "He is kind of a snob about it."

"More than a snob…tennis is his life." Rose watched as Lovejoy turned away from Cal and walked off stiffly, her eyes narrowing at Cal’s knowing smirk. "It wouldn’t surprise me if he knows about Mr. Lovejoy and my mother…maybe Cal’s trying to blackmail him."

"Maybe." Dawn looked at Cal uneasily. "Rose, I think we should leave before he sees us."

"He’s already seen us. I can guarantee you that. And tonight, if not sooner, I’ll get an obscene e-mail from a non-existent address telling me how sexy I look playing tennis and which part of my clothing he’d like to remove first." She clenched her fists, glaring at him, then exploded. "I’m sick of this! He just keeps stalking me, and the police don’t believe me! They won’t even talk to me about it anymore! Cal always has an alibi—and I’m sure he has someone watching me at school! He’s following me places I know he doesn’t like to go!"

Her angry words had reached Cal’s ears, and he turned to stare at her, a look of triumph mixed with unease crossing his face.

"Cal!" Rose stomped across the room towards him, holding her tennis racket as though she intended to hit him with it.

"Rose, stop!" Dawn hurried after her, grabbing her arm. "The restraining order…"

"He’s been violating it for months."

"Let me talk to him. He doesn’t have to stay away from me."

Rose turned and looked at her. "No. If he gets violent and decides to hit you, it might hurt the baby. Besides, if he hurts you, Tommy will go after him, and then he’d be in trouble, too." She looked up, seeing Cal edging towards the door. "Don’t you move!" she shouted at him.

Cal looked at Dawn. "Would you please remind her that she has a restraining order against me, and that means I need to stay a certain distance away from her, even if she approaches me?"

Rose broke away from Dawn’s grip and advanced on Cal. "You couldn’t care less about that restraining order! You’ve been stalking me for months! You aren’t even supposed to contact me, but you’ve been sending me e-mails, letters, notes…you even called me in the middle of class!"

Cal shook his head. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Oh, you do…even if you weren’t the stalker—though I know you are—the police have talked to you several times. You know all about this."

"And I suppose they didn’t tell you that I had an alibi for every occasion."

"Alibis can be made up—and it’s funny how you remember exactly where you were every time I got one of those stupid notes or phone calls."

"I have a good memory. I wouldn’t be where I am now without it."

"If you had a good memory, you wouldn’t be here now! Or don’t you remember that the restraining order doesn’t allow you to come near me?"

"You’re the one who approached me!"

"You knew I was here! You should have left as soon as you saw me!"

"Did it ever occur to you, Rose, that I am also a member of this club, and therefore have the right to use its facilities, including the tennis courts?"

"This isn’t the only court! You stayed here because I’m here!"

"Don’t flatter yourself."

Rose saw red. "You son of a bitch!" She raised the tennis racket threateningly.

"Mr. Hockley! Rose DeWitt Bukater!"

Rose looked behind her, startled, to see Mr. Lovejoy striding towards them, Dawn hurrying after him. Slowly, she lowered the tennis racket.

Lovejoy took it from her, then turned to Cal. "Mr. Hockley, I think you’ve forgotten that she has a restraining order against you. You to need to leave, now, before I call the police."

"But she—"

Rose couldn’t hide a smirk at seeing Cal flustered. He glared at her, then turned on his heel and left.

She turned to Lovejoy, not sure whether to be relieved or angry at having her confrontation with Cal interrupted. She reached for her racket, but he held it out of reach.

"This is not a weapon, young lady. You could have severely damaged it if you’d hit him with it."

"I could have severely damaged him!"

Lovejoy smiled slightly. "There is that." He handed the racket to her. "I will have to tell your mother about this."

Rose suddenly thought about how that would look—they way that she had deliberately approached Cal after months of being stalked by him. "No…no, you don’t need to do that."

"She needs to know that he’s deliberately provoking you."

"She knows."

He nodded, but continued, "She needs to know about this incident."

"Why?"

"Because I’ve seen Mr. Hockley here several times, looking as though he’s waiting for someone. He rarely makes an effort to actually play tennis."

"You said he was the worst tennis player you’d ever…" Rose trailed off, realizing what she’d said. "Uh…I mean…"

"I think someone’s been eavesdropping."

Rose blushed. "Well…uh…okay, I do know about you and Mom. But I haven’t told anyone except Dawn and my boyfriend, Jack, and Dawn can keep a secret. Jack isn’t even allowed to come here because the time I brought him here, he got into an argument with Cal and got kicked out. He doesn’t care anyway…" She trailed off, looking at him nervously.

He frowned. "Your mother was wondering when to tell you about us."

"Um…should I tell her I already know?"

"Let me do that. Oh, and Rose…if you see Mr. Hockley, tell someone. Don’t confront him yourself. Your mother has told me about the problems you’re having with him. I was a private investigator before I became a tennis instructor, and his stalking behaviour seems to be worsening. Stay with other people at all times if you can. I believe he’s dangerous."

"Has he tried to blackmail you and Mom?"

"No, and I don’t think he will, at this point…he’s more interested in you, and to threaten us would show his hand."

"I just wish the police would believe me!" Rose thought for a moment. "If you used to be a private investigator, maybe you could…"

"It’s been about twenty years since I quit being a detective. My skills are rusty by now."

"Still, if you could find out anything at all…it might help."

He looked at her for a moment, considering. Finally, he sighed and nodded. "I’ll see what I can do."

Chapter Forty-Four
Stories