Prisoners of Fear by Gera-Lind Kolarik

Author:Gera-Lind Kolarik
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781891053702
Publisher: Garrett County Press

March 7, 1991

Wayne needed to communicate with Connie personally. If only he could get through to her, he thought, he could make her see how much he loved her and everything would be okay. But she would not take his phone calls. It was Chris, he thought, the bitch sister, she was the problem.

Wayne drove back to Des Plaines, for his court dates. On March seventh Wayne’s problems deepened. He got a notice ordering him to appear in front of a judge and produce all records of income. If that wasn’t enough to get him crazy, Connie was asking for a motion of temporary custody, and expecting Wayne to pay all court costs.

“I’ve got to talk to her,” he kept saying in phone conversations with his brother Steve. “I’ve got to talk to her.”

Finally, Wayne calmed himself enough to sit at the kitchen table at his mother’s house and write a long letter to his wife. Despite his violence, he was capable of great sentiment, and as he expressed his tender feelings for Connie and his son, Wayne found himself moved to tears. When he finished he folded the letter neatly. He had decided he would place it on the windshield of Connie’s car at work. He drove to the shopping center where Connie worked.

The long trip, however, soon depleted his measure of equanimity, and Wayne, often reckless behind the wheel of his truck, became particularly dangerous this day. He sloshed anxiously through the Des Plaines traffic, cursing the dozens of drivers he cut off. When he got to the parking lot of the deli, he swerved in quickly. Suddenly there was a young woman in front of him, pushing a cart of groceries with her son. “Jesus,” he screamed and jerked the wheel sharply. The woman pushed her son out of the way. Wayne swerved again, barely missing both mother and son and whacking the grocery cart to one side. The woman screamed at him, but Wayne kept going. He was a man on a mission.

When he spotted Connie’s Toyota, he pulled up and got out of his truck. Clutching his plaintive letter, he moved around the Toyota, trying the doors. He now wanted to leave the letter in the car, if he could. While he was yanking on the doors, trying to find one that wasn’t locked, he was approached by Tara Baggot, a young recruit officer with the Des Plaines police. Baggot had witnessed the incident with the woman and her son.

“I want to talk to you,” she said sternly.

Wayne sneered. She was practically a kid, and she was going to give him a hard time? Not likely.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Fuck off, bitch,” Wayne said. He jammed the letter under Connie’s windshield wiper and climbed back into his truck. As he sped off, Baggot wrote down his plate number. Then she called it in, and called in the plate number on Connie’s car.

Within minutes Connie heard her plate number being announced at the grocery store.

God, she thought, what has he done now? Her heart was pounding.

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