You Belong to Me – 9

 

 

With the holiday season over, Corey’s life settled back into its normal routine, more or less. The temperatures dropped significantly, so the shelter was filled to capacity day and night, and he spent more time there than he did at home. When he did return to his apartment, he collapsed into bed for a few hours and then showered, put on clean clothes, and went back to work.

 

Three days after the cold snap, the weather improved enough to allow Corey to work his regular shift again. When he got home that evening, the first thing he spotted was the pile of unopened mail from the last few days that he’d tossed on his desk to look at when he had time. “Bills and more bills,” he grumbled as he began going through it. There were other things, too, including a couple of what he presumed were late Christmas cards. The first was a comic one from an old college friend. Corey chuckled at the message and put it aside.

 

His address on the second one was typed, with no return address and a very blurred postmark. He opened the envelope, expecting to find it was from some company he did business with.

 

It wasn’t. The front of the card showed two hands, fingers touching to form a heart with “Merry Christmas” under them. From the look of it, the sender had designed the card himself, probably with a photo-manipulation program. Inside, typed, was a message: I’m hurt. You haven’t been wearing my gift.

 

That was all. No signature. Nothing to indicate who had sent the card.

 

My secret Santa, as Archie put it? He could only presume that was the case and the sender was referring to the watch. Creepy. He shivered, crumpled the card, and tossed it into the wastebasket. I should get rid of the watch too. Donate it to… some charity that could sell it and use the profits to support their efforts. Not to the shelter, though. Mr. Zimmer would wonder why I was getting rid of it and, knowing him, make a big issue of it.

 

“Who the hell are you?” he muttered. He figured it had to be someone he’d met at one of the clubs. But why approach me this way? Why not just come out and say he’s interested in me? “Games, and not ones I like.”

 

He was tempted to call Kerry to get his opinion about the gift and the card. As a cop, even though in a different city, he might have some suggestions on what to do.

 

Like tell me to go to the police, and what would that accomplish? There’s nothing overtly threatening in this. I don’t think I can get a restraining order against a person or persons unknown. He chuckled dryly. Nope, not happening, so I’ll forget it for now and hope this is the last I hear from them.