Part 4

Part 4

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“Here you go.  Just how you like it,” he said presenting me with a chili dog and a bottle of water.

“Uh…how did you know that this is how I like them?” I asked, looking in his eyes.  I was trying to see if he looked down and to the left to determine if he was lying.  Or was it up and to the right?  I never could remember.  So why bother looking at all?  Wow,  I was a mess!

“Marilyn, I think I might know everything about you,” Robbie said with a little smirk on his face.

“But I know nothing about you and this whole situation,” I said as I waved my arm between us.  I was finding myself very flustered.

“What do you want to know?” he asked as he sat down across from me and unwrapped his loaded hot dog and popped his soda can open.
“First of all, how do I know you are REALLY Drew Roberts, Sr.?  And why is everyone not fawning over you?  And where is all the paparazzi?  And how can I trust you? And how do you know everything about me?  And why is there a woman’s body in the trunk of your car?” I blurted out all at once.  I took a breath and realized that was a lot to say with just one breath.

“Wow, you have a lot of questions, Sweetheart,” he said.  He took a long drink of his soda to wash down his hot dog. 

“Ok, let’s start with the first question.  I can prove I am the very person you believe me to be.  I have my IPad in the car.  It’s in the glove box.  When you get done eating and we are finished with the other questions, you can get it and we will call someone and facetime with him.  He can prove I am your Robbie,” he said.

I was waiting to eat my chili dog because I felt like my stomach was in knots and if I dared to swallow anything I might just vomit.  So I sipped on the ice cold water.

“As far as your next question goes, people are not “fawning over me” because they are not looking for me.  Let me be a little bit clearer.  Yes, I am a major film star.  Everyone expects me to be in Hollywood or New York right now.  Nobody expects me to be here.  Many of the local residents in town know me and know that I want my privacy.  The ones that don’t know me personally here do not “expect” me to be here. Make sense?” he continued.

I wasn’t quite sure I followed his reasoning, or if he was truly “making himself clear” but I nodded my head as if I understood anyway.

“So,” he went on, “there really is no media here that cares much.  I come and go and I have ways of concealing my identity when I so desire.” 

He was looking at me so intently that I thought he could read right into my very soul.  It was more than a little unnerving, so I looked away.  I looked around and took in my surroundings.  There were very few people at the park this time of day.  It was pretty warm out and I wondered if I closed my eyes and opened them again I would wake up and the last forty minutes would have been a dream.  Wouldn’t that be a wonderful dream though?  So I closed my eyes and tilted my chin up hoping to catch a little breeze as I enjoyed the last few blissful moments of this dream.  There it was. The cool breeze.  I smiled and opened my eyes and there sitting three feet away in front of me was none other than Drew Roberts, Sr.!  This was no dream.

Robbie just smiled, revealing his perfect white teeth.  His signature lightly tinted sunglasses were perched on the tip of his nose and he looked over the rims as he asked, “Are you quite alright?”

Okay. So this was really a famous movie star, or so he claimed, sitting across from me, but I STILL didn’t have all the answers to my questions.  “How can I trust you?”

“Sweetheart, trust must be earned,” he said, slipping his glassed back up.  “How can I trust that you will not run screaming through the park right now?  How can I trust the hot dog vendor not to have poisoned the food?  I know you will not scream because it is not in your character.  I trust the vendor will not jeopardize future sales by poisoning us.  These are things you learn.  You will see that you can trust me.  I have not done you any harm and I never will.  You see, I have been pursuing you since that first time I heard your voice in the emergency room.  I heard your telling your mother and father what happened the evening of your accident. I heard the hurt and pain you experienced underneath the façade of strength and resolve.  And after your parents left I stood outside your curtain and listened to you as you wept into your pillow.  I also heard you when you called that good-for-nothing Michael and asked him how he was feeling.  You had so much care and concern for someone who had called his friend to come and get him and take him to the club you two were headed to while he left you on your own to find a way home.  Then I heard the most beautiful sound I had ever heard a little later that evening after all your tests were run.  I heard you laugh, giggle even.  You had turned on the television very quietly and you must have been watching a sitcom.  I vowed to myself that I wanted to have that laugh with me always.”

“So you have been stalking me for four years?” I asked.

“Let’s just say that I have been making sure you have been taken care of and I have been working my way to get to you, or rather have you come to me,” he said as he reached across the table and took my hand.

“You’re a stalker!” I yelled as I jerked my hand out from under his.

“Sweetheart, I want you to know something,” Robbie said in his best reassuring tone.  “It looks like stalking, but the majority of stalkers in this world do not have anyone’s best interest at heart except their own.  Trust me on this one.  Let me show you that I am sincere. Give me time to prove this to you.”

“Ok, then why is there a woman’s body in the trunk of your car right now?”  I demanded.

“First of all, there is no body in the trunk.  It has been removed.  We can go look if you like.  But, yes, there was a body there and it is now in a safe place.  You must know that it is not just a body.  It is a woman.  She is alive and well.  I will show you that all in due time,” he said.  “Now, are you going to eat your food or not?”

I looked down, feeling completely nauseated.  “No.”

He picked up the trash from his side of the table and my hot dog and headed to the trash can.  I watched him, wondering what he saw in me.  I still wondered if his story was true.  “Okay.  I’m ready to talk to this friend of yours now,” I said, feeling very uncertain of the outcome.

“Let’s get that face time up and running,” he said.

He opened the door and I sat in the seat, but he didn’t close the door.  Instead, he squatted next to me, holding the door.

“It’s in the glove box.  You will be calling Johnny Legal.  He’s the best friend I have,” he said.

I just stared at him.  Was he serious?  He was best friends with a co-star of his movies?

“Go ahead,” he nudged me.

I reached out and opened the glove box and something heavy fell into my lap.  A gun? Seriously?