More Harry Hogan stories!
Harry was closing the front door of his house when he noticed a young woman park a small white pickup in the driveway and head towards the door of his office. “The door’s open,” he called out. “I’ll be right there.”
She turned, waving her hand in acknowledgement, and went inside.
When Harry entered, the young woman was seated across from his desk. “Good afternoon,” he said. “I’m Harry Hogan. How can I help you, Miss…?”
“Phoebe Wyatt,” she answered. “I’ve heard a lot of favourable comments about your work, Mr. Hogan. I think I’m being stalked and I certainly hope you can help me.”
Harry sat down. “I’m guessing this is at night.” She nodded. “I thought so. It’s easier for a stalker to remain anonymous under cover of darkness. Why do you think you’re being stalked? Do you hear anything?”
“No, I don’t hear anything, but I can feel it… or sense it… like there’s someone – or something – behind me. This happens mostly when I return from my early morning walk, and when I return from working a late shift. I have a part-time job that’s mostly evening shifts.”
“Can you think of anyone who might think or feel like they have a reason to stalk you… such as an ex- boyfriend… someone who might be jealous of you for some reason… perhaps even someone whom you quarrelled with?”
“No one that I can think of. There’s no ex… very few friends in the area and I haven’t quarrelled with anyone since high school.”
“Have you ever stopped walking and just stood still for a minute to determine if it’s still there? Or perhaps turned and looked behind you?”
She shook her head. “I… I’m actually scared to do that… afraid of what I might see.”
Harry frowned. “Why are you afraid?”
“Because I’m pretty sure – as sure as I can be – that the stalker is a ghost.”
For a minute, Harry was stunned into silence. He’d dealt with people who thought they were being haunted but no one being stalked… this was a first. “First things first,” he said. “Tell me everything you’ve experienced, everything that makes you think you’re being stalked by a ghost.”
Phoebe nodded. “I recently purchased, and moved into, an old Victorian-style house… small enough to be considered a cottage, I suppose, but it’s plenty big enough for me. The feeling of being stalked… or perhaps ‘followed’ might be a better word… started about a week after I moved in.”
“Could there have been another buyer who wanted the property and might be trying to scare you away?”
“I suppose it’s possible,” she said, “but I doubt it. As I said, the house is old, very much out-dated, needs a few repairs, and I doubt if many people would have that level of interest in it. And, on the advice of my brother-in-law, I got it for nearly ten thousand less than the asking price because it had been on the market for a few months.”
