I watched him approach on the small screen, my hands surprisingly steady as I angled the phone for a better view. When he reached the landing, the camera caught his face full-on. Unshaven. Eyes glassy and unfocused. Mouth moving like he was talking to someone who wasn't there.
I took a screenshot.
He grabbed the door handle below me. The lock held.
He rattled it. Yanked hard. Threw his shoulder against the frame with a thud that echoed through the stairwell.
The door didn't budge.
After several tries, he gave up. Stumbled back down the stairs, still muttering to himself.
I waited until I heard the main entrance slam before I moved. Then I grabbed my regular clothes, pulled them on over my practice gear, and left.
***
The sheriff's station was quiet when I walked in after my shift ended at five.
Gage looked up from his desk. One glance at my face and he was on his feet. "What happened?"
"He was there." I pulled out my phone, hands not quite steady. "At the studio during lunch. The camera caught him."
He guided me into his office and closed the door. I showed him the screenshot.
"Son of a bitch." He enlarged the image, studying it. "I know this guy."
"You do?"
He was already moving, pulling a file box from the cabinet. Mugshots spread across his desk as he compared each one to my screenshot.
The third one down made us both stop.
"That's him," I said.
"Warren Hodge." Gage flipped the photo over, jaw tight. "Forty-two. Local. I've arrested him twice myself."
"For what?"
He pulled the full file. "Peeping tom charges going back two years. Trespassing. Loitering. Public intoxication." He flipped through incident reports. "Last arrest was three months ago—caught in the women's locker room at the community center. Got probation and mandatory counseling, which he's not attending."
Nausea rose in my throat. "Of course he's not."
"No." Gage's voice had gone flat. Controlled. "File notes say he makes delusional statements about the women he watches. Claims they're 'performing' for him. That they're in relationships with him."
He looked up, and the fury in his eyes took my breath away. "He's mentally ill, Lacey. Probably using on top of it. That makes him unpredictable."
"What do we do?"
"I'm putting out a warrant. Probation violation at minimum, plus stalking charges based on this footage and your statement." He met my eyes. "And you need to cancel tomorrow night's class."
The words hit me like a slap. "What? No."
"Lacey—"
"I'm not hiding." The edge in my voice surprised us both. "This is my business. My students depend on me. Maya's bringing a friend tomorrow, and I have two new beginners scheduled."
"He's escalating. What if he breaks a window to get in?"
"Then you can patrol during class like you've been doing." I crossed my arms. "But I'm teaching."
