The next evening as planned, Sarah and Carrie arrived in la Jolla on Prospect Street to walk up to the Top of the Cove Bar and Restaurant. It was just before 9:00 PM and a place familiar to both of them. In their youth they had met there in carefree times and it was where she and Carrie had finally reconnected after their college years. Unfortunately, it was also where Sarah had entertained Jess during one of their more romantic interludes and she had begun to feel their whirlwind meetings were developing into a healthy relationship. How things had changed, she thought now, as she waited by the car. Carrie would soon go up the steep hill alone to plant herself for reconnaissance in the bar. For there she could secretly observe and listen to Sarah and whomever might show up to join her that evening.

Earlier, Carrie had helped Sarah on with the small wireless microphone she now had attached to the center connection of her bra. It was under the fabric of her dress and totally concealed. Testing the eavesdropping system earlier at Sarah's parents house, Carrie, anywhere within a range of fifty meters could hear clearly conversations her friend might have that evening with anyone nearby. Donning her portion of the equipment before entering the bar—courtesy of the FBI, Carrie wore a small, flesh-colored earpiece to receive the sounds of Sarah and her surroundings. It was Derek whom Sarah feared the most and knew frightfully little about. His message to her was one of a serious threat if she were to go to the authorities. And now if he repeated it, it would be recorded.

Though the stake-out wasn't yet sanctioned by the FBI officially, as a member of the Force, whatever Carrie did which put her life in danger, would be the responsibly of the agency to get involved to protect her. Invaluable also to Sarah relating to her dilemma was her friend Carrie's years of service with just such surveillance missions and apprehending suspects as persons of interest. In many cases, as Carrie explained, this involved the most hardened fugitives already with criminal records, and most considered dangerous.

"Don't be nervous, once inside," were Carrie's last directions to Sarah as she gave her a comforting hug and left to take her position in the posh Cove, with its stunning views. "And try to get him to do most the all talking. I'll be recording everything," she lastly said.

Sarah waited and watched as her friend passed through the entryway of the premises, coolly in her evening dress. Sarah, also dressed for a night out on the town, and according to the plan, waited a full five minutes before she herself looked down at the mesmerizing tide pools and foaming waves being illuminated by the coastal streetlights. She then held her breath and passed through the bar's large brass doors. 

Sarah took a small table against the wall, fairly close to the large open windows, careful to position whomever might show up with their back to the room. It was a warm summer night and the sea air wafted into the place in gentle gusts. As she sat down at the table for two, she furtively looked around for Carrie, quickly spotting her across the room at a point just barely visible to her own location. Noticing with some trepidation that the place was not totally teaming with business, as it would have been on any weekend, Sarah perused the customers one by one to see if either Jess or Derek was already there waiting. Convinced that neither of the men had yet arrived, as the clientele was mostly hot-date couples and noisy after work professionals, she began to relax a bit and try to look as if she were simply waiting for her own date that evening. 

She looked back over at Carrie who was now engrossed in reading a menu and looked up in time to give her a slow and barely perceptibly nod of her head, signally all was in place.

Going through Sarah's mind was how she would address either man if he indeed appeared that evening—the smooth Jess, or the quirky and bizarre Derek. The thought of them both appearing together was just too much for her to consider and she thought with a bit gallows humor that Carrie could probably hear her heart already beating strongly through her earpiece. 

At that moment her heart jolted into a higher gear as she suddenly recognized Jess, professional-looking as ever, entering and looking around for her. Automatically, Sarah raised her hand slightly, and Jess came toward her table smiling. His face was tanned, signaling he had indeed been in California these past two days—either at a poolside or at the beach. He looked attractive, as always, and just as relaxed as she had remembered him.

"Sarah, I'm really glad you've reached out to meet Derek here," he said reaching out for her hand in greeting. She did not comply feeling a bit nauseated at the though of touching his warm fingers.

He took the chair across from her, which faced the wall, and Sarah carefully observed his gaze to see if he might be casing the interior of the place for anyone who might be with her. Careful as ever, he did not outwardly show this concern, and instead kept his always flirtatious eyes steadily on hers.

"Well it took lot for me to be here," she told him, her voice cracking once. Mindful of the microphone under her dress, she spoke up more boldly. "Well, to be honest, Jess, I really wanted to confront Derek for what he had done to me the night before. And I'm not reallyhappy it's you instead. I actually never wanted to see you again after what happened in England."

"I totally understand that, Sarah. And if you finally let me explain . . . "

"Is there really any need for explanations?  I've been living in total disgust and terror  since I left you there!"

"Yes. . . Derek," he said, exhaling in resignation. "The man is completely mad, Sarah, I assure you of that. He's a bona fide schizophrenic. My association with him unfortunately goes back a long time. I must be honest about that. Entirely Business, however."

"Oh?  And does your . . . business  involve making sex tapes of current lovers, Jess?"

"Sarah . . . I tried to explain to you that was entirely Derek's doing. We were in his house. He apparently had set the whole terrible thing up. Unbeknownst to me. This I swear."

"Then why did he email you even before we left his home, Jess? And tell you how . . . wonderful  the videos came out? Like you had somehow collaborated with him."

"And I told you, Sarah . . . He only did that whole dirty thing to blackmail me. It was ironic what he wrote in that email about the tapes.  And it was only to further infuriate me. I had no idea he had made them until I read the email myself. . . as you did. And by that time you had, unfortunately, left."

"Jess, you are lying!  And I will never  trust what you say. Why would you even expose me to him if you knew how monstrous . . . how crazy  he was?"

"Well that I do take responsibility for, Sarah. Looking back, I should never have brought you there to his estate. It's just that . . . well I believed things had become better with Derek . . . his mental health. I couldn't even believe he was so demanding . . . of the money he claimed I owed him."

"Did you . . . or didn't you owe him money then?"

"The fact is . . . I had recently carried a lot of cash for Derek. Into an international betting syndicate. Sort of where the big boys play with their millions. The players are rich Russians, Chinese, Saudis. And, yeah, a few UK and Stateside high rollers."

"Jess . . . what's that got to do with what happened to me . . .?"

"I was supposed to bet his money for him. On Leicester City—the football team which had just won the Premiere League title in an upset. It's all history now to the sporting world. There was a five-thousand to one odds  that they could ever win. Derek insisted I place his money . . . some fifty thousand pounds on that little-known team. Few people in the world were so bold to take those ridiculous odds. If Derek would have won, however, it would have been astronomical. Literally a million in profit!"

"Then why didn't he win, Jess?"

"Because I couldn't fathom Derek's stupidity. That a team so far out could beat the odds-on favorites like that. I simply took his money . . . and at the last minute . . . bet it on Leicester City to loose, as everyone expected. Derek lost the fortune he would have won  . . . because of me, Sarah. It was a colossal loss  for him. But far more disastrous for me "

"This is all insignificant to me. . . and I don't care about any of it!"

"But don't you see, Sarah, people in those circles. The ones  I'm talking about . . . they have people killed for lesser mistakes than I made."

"Are you saying he wanted to kill you, Jess ?"

"No. But he could have. And because he's my friend, he just wanted his money back. The money that I lost for him. The fifty-thousand."

"So did you pay him?"

"Yes. And twenty-thousand more . . . for him to destroy those video files of us. Don't you see? I did that for you, Sarah. I could have lived with those files circulating on the Net. But I know like any decent woman, you couldn't have."

Sarah was quiet. Her head was spinning over Jess' elaborate and now somewhat plausible story. She knew Carrie was taking in all their conversation and recording it. And she knew her friend was convinced he was lying. She looked over very quickly, without moving her head, just to be comforted that Carrie was still there, listening. By this time she seemed to be sampling chips and salsa comfortably with a margarita in front of her—still appearing to be awaiting someone. Upon noticing Sarah's brief glance in her direction, however, Carrie signaled back a dainty middle finger in the air—saying exactly what she believed of Jess' elaborate alibi.

As the waitress finally came over to take hers and Jess' drink orders, Jess looked up with his charming manner and requested a Corona with lime.

"Sarah? A Margarita? Some white wine, maybe?"

"Nothing," she said coldly, not caring that the waitress was still listening intently. "I just want more answers from you tonight, Jess!"

He  looked up at the waitress. She winked and smiled back at him.

"Can you put us on for dinner tonight?" he asked her. "The name's Danford.  I'm afraid I didn't call ahead."

"Very well, sir. That will have to be in . . . about an hour's time?"

"Perfect," he answered.

As the waitress left, Jess looked back into Sarah's eyes comfortingly.

"Sarah . . . I'm telling you. Derek is out of the picture now. I made sure of that. He won't be harassing you here in San Diego anymore."

"So just what does that mean Jess? I kind of thought it was both of you harassing me here. I mean . . . dead cats on my car? On my mailbox? I still don't know if that was Derek's live body in my bed or his dead corpse! I nearly lost my mind that night. He looked very dead to me. . . And you didn't expect me to call the police?  I can't even live in that place anymore now. The thought of him entering my place and soiling my bed like that is . . . Huh!"

"Sarah, Derek was a sick man.  I really thought he had gotten the help he needed . . . this last year. He spent the last two in a London mental facility. All who knew him thought he was getting better. He only got worse. But he's locked up permanently now. 

"What do you mean, locked up?  Where?"

"Since  I arrived here two days ago, I knew I had to find him. I had learned he had left England shortly after you had left for home. I knew he would be trouble for you. He assumed you would go to the authorities here about the videos. He wanted to stop you. With his criminal record it could put him away . . . for a long time. I know it wasn't pleasant these last days. The things he must have done to scare you into silence."

"Pleasant?  It nearly drove me  insane! Dead cats. Breaking into my apartment. His very ugly body . . . looking to be dead in my bed!"

Jess had a look of disgust on his face. "I wasn't aware you had that kind of serious trouble from him, Sarah."

"So you just thought he followed me back to California . . . for the weather?  How did he get into my apartment, Jess? And how could he be using your phone in that text message to warn me not to go to the authorities?"

"Yesterday when I located him here in San Diego, Sarah, we spoke briefly in my hotel room. He was incoherent. Not the Derek I knew. He managed to escape my pleading with him to return to England. He struggled with me, taking my wallet and cell phone before he escaped. I had to report him to the San Diego Police Department for theft of my cash, credit cards and phone. I also informed them of his deranged state. His history of mental illness back in England."

"How can I believe this Jess?"

"Look. They managed to capture him just last night. My things were returned to me and he was arrested. While being taken into custody I understand he struck two police officers. He'll undergo a brief hearing next week and a psychological evaluation. Then be extradited back to London for psychological treatment. Once I got my phone back I read your text to him. The invitation for tonight. You must be relieved now it's me  here this evening  . . . and not him. Right?"

"I'm not really sure about that. Or any of this, Jess."

"Sarah? Believe me . . . I had no idea once you discovered those videos and flew home . . . that Derek would follow you to California!  My European business commitments kept me in the UK during much of these past critical days. He must have been stalking you here in San Diego during that time . . . your work . . . your apartment. He has a long criminal record of break-ins and . . . I'm sorry to say, sexual deviancy."

"Oh Great!  And you brought me to his estate to spend the night and be filmed by him.  I'll never trust you again, Jess! Never go anywhere with you again! Or let you ever touch me again!"

Her voice had grown much louder. The couple at the table near them looked annoyed and seemed ready to walk out.

"Sarah, when I realized you had left England for home . . . I immediately confronted Derek about the videos  he made. I paid the money he said I owed him . . . and paid a lot for him to destroy those files. I had hoped he would remain in England and I could reason with him over your angry departure. We both understood you were horrified, humiliated and potentially problematic for seeing those files. But I had no idea he would go that far."

"Problematic? For him?  And what about the stalking of me? The break-in  to my apartment? Terrorizing me with a dead animal.  And leaving hair DNA  on the floor near my bed? Aren't those crimes too, Jess?"

"Of course they are. But I assure you, Derek is now in custody. Here in San Diego."

Sarah paused and tried to control her breathing which had increased with her anger.

"Jess . . .How can you expect me to believe any of your story? You are also here somewhere in the shadows. Behind every one of these troubles. I'm so sorry I ever met you!"

She held her head down and fought back tears.

"Sarah,  this is truly the first I've heard of any of those things Derek did to you here. They sound so insane. So awful. And I really had no idea you suffered so much from him. If you want, we'll go together to the police department tomorrow. To officially report all of those acts. We'll add them to the  case against him here in San Diego."

"It all changes very little of what I've been through, Jess."

"But you must believe me Sarah. Because it's all true! I never wanted any harm to come to you. I came here just to sort things out with us."

Sarah looked into Jess' eyes now critically. She couldn't believe there was still this little undying voice inside her that wanted to believe him. That she would even find it in her heart to consider his elaborate explanation of the events which transpired over the past week---possible. She wondered what Carrie was thinking about the whole sordid narrative being picked up on her microphone. Her better judgement told her Carrie would not give him the slightest benefit of a doubt, and she consistently hadn't since the beginning of Sarah's reports to her.

As she looked over furtively to Carrie's table, once more she saw that her friend was nibbling contently on chips and salsa. As Carrie looked back she casually and most surreptitiously again raised a dainty middle finger, signaling most emphatically that she was not buying Jess' story in the least.

"Sarah. I know you have difficulties with why I ever would have considered this lunatic as a friend," Jess added quietly and confessionally. "The truth is, long before he went over the deep end, he helped me out of some pretty deadly circumstances. You might say life-threatening situations. I've just never forgotten him for that. But now I see . . . it's time to let him go. To make sure he serves his time. Faces what he's done to you."

She kept looking down at the table, uncertain as to what else to say.

"Please understand Sarah, Derek will never  trouble you again . . . or try to bring you harm. He's in custody now. I've distanced myself from him forever. You must believe that."

At this moment the waitress came to their table and informed them that she could get them a dinner table immediately.

"Well then," Sarah said sternly. "I want you to enjoy that dinner, Jess . . . Alone." 

She then abruptly stood up. 

"You see, I just don't feel like staying with you here any longer.  And I would appreciate it if you would go back to England and assure me those dealings with your psycho friend have ended. Namely, that he's truly behind bars.  And, trust me, Jess.  I'll be checking both here and there to see that he is."

He stared back at her, wordless and surprised.

" And please know  . . . the authorities I've contacted here are more than willing to include you  in those procedures if I feel you have not been totally truthful with me tonight."

As Sarah left the table and walked away, she looked across the now crowded barroom. She could see that Carrie had already taken her cue to exit the premises and, as planned, bring the car around to the front of the establishment. For it was there she would pick up Sarah, unharmed and not followed, to be delivered securely to her parents' home. Once safely there, there would be much to discuss that night.

* * *