Prowler

By Agnes N Lethena

Angry for unrequited love, author Anne Lethale airs her cyber crush, Ralph Mpiti's dirty laundry. The aim is to hurt his ego. However, the joke is on Anne.
She gets unwanted attention that could land her in legal hot water. For a girl who has so much up her sleeve, she trys to weather the storm. But is it not too late? Will she still get the boy?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BlueInk Publishing Company
• Release date: Aug 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9789991181202

Agnes N Lethena

Agnes N Lethena is Lesotho born author, based in Mafeteng. She is a CEO of BlueInk Publishing Company and Papatso Advertising Company. Also a qualified teacher. She writes thriller, romance and paranormal books. Her first book is No Witness No Leads. The second being Prowler and lastly Li Mosenekeng. She's currently working on Hired Gun.

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PROWLER

© Agnes N Lethena 2021

All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without written permission. No paragraph of this publication may be reproduced, copied or transmitted or saved without written permission. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to any criminal claims for damages.

ISBN 9789991181202

Declaration

This book is the work of fiction, names, characters and places have been used fictitiously. However, the name Locca Makhaola belongs to a real person, well, the author of this work has the permission from that said person. Rather than that, any resembles to real people, dead or alive is purely coincidental. Oh, one more thing, Lesotho Secret Services, El Plata are the products of the author’s imagination.

Dedication

Dedicated to Alina Ramphielo and Reatile Lethena for their unwavering support. To Leoka Locca Makhaola for allowing me to name a character after him. How can I forget Mr. Nice, you know who you are and the part you played in my life.

Prologue

20/06/2016

Was I really that rustic in terms of dating? Or am I not cut for it! After an hour long argument with Tumi, my date for tonight, I had to rush to the bathroom, away from him and his irritating demeanor. Maybe I wasn’t a dating type! Why would I always have to fight for attention from everyone? Of all the losers I had fallen for, none had ever shown me true love. Was I bewitched? Maybe there isn’t true love. Maybe it doesn’t exist; it’s just illusions – what people chase. Maybe, just maybe I am meant to be alone. Of course it could be the case. I punched the bathing basin. No it couldn’t be. There was somebody out there for me. Yes, there was someone for me.

I had patted my hair, embellished the strands that were ruffled. That was the only thing that I could do tonight. The dinner was ruined. That Tumi dude wasn’t just into me. The thought had pierced my heart, threatened it to stop. Was there something wrong with me? There isn’t any. Tumi and I were the power couple, or so he had wanted me to believe so. He had his Polo Vivo, which late at night – after hours of studying, we would go on a road trip. Yes, I still was young and immune to dating. But am I really that clueless? The point was, this pharmacist to be, Tumi, promised to show me the world. Only now, I realized it was a world of heartbreaks and lies. How pathetic!

We had come to dinner – on a Friday night. We had had a long day. Cheering me up had been his task. Well, he said so. I had never demanded anything yet; all I ever needed was love. Yet I never got it. Or was it too soon? It could be. His favorite restaurant was Mable’s kitchen. It was in the heart of Maseru, nestled on the sidewalk of King’s way road. It was cozy around here, no hillbillies – just classy couples who happened to be the who’s who of Maseru. Well, I had liked classy – some glam and good food. It had been great – the food of course, though we hadn’t ordered anything yet. But my nose had picked the aroma, which had wafted from the kitchen to where we sat. Casting a glance around, I could tell everyone was really enjoying their food. Are they? What if they are just going with the flow? Life is all about that: going with the flow, pretending in short. I shook my head.

We had sat there. The waitress knew our usual food, or rather Tumi’s usual. Dude loved eating out. But this was our first date here. Did this Tumi guy bring all his girls here too? Of course, he does. The waitress had brought them right away. Thoughts crossed my mind as I looked down at my plate. Boy, I didn’t know what this was. How would I even eat them? Is this Chinese? Or it could be Portuguese dish or French. I expunged the thoughts and reached for a sparkling glass of champagne, I had never tasted it before. Lord, may I not puke.

Mm, it’s great, I said.

My so-called-boyfriend didn’t bother to reply. His phone had kept him busy. But who was he texting? Was it even normal? To text while having dinner with one’s significant other? Well, I was aware it could be too soon to be his significant other but he had taken me out. We had left Roma for heaven’s sake, to have a night out. So yes, he shouldn’t be texting. Lumbered with these silly thoughts had caused the silly me to surface. This was bad. My mouth would spit words, he would hate to hear. Oh, God! I had to wipe off my forehead. I was heating up. I wanted to ask who was keeping him busy. But wouldn’t I sound boring or jealous? Well, if we were out on a date, no one was supposed to be texting. I was aware we hadn’t set any ground rules as yet.

Tumi, I said. Tumiiii!

Boy was miles away. A smile had flashed on his face. That was it; my exit. I rose. This would go on nonstop. Tolerate nonsense, then be prepared to be treated like it. I waddled to the bathroom, had locked myself in there. I glanced in the mirror. My perfect little dress did suit me. It was a black velvet – V neck – full dress that sat an inch above my knees. I always opted for dresses in occasions like this since I was blessed with hirsute chocolate-toned legs. I had permed my hair. Well, it was a dry perm since my chubby face always looked great in an afro hairstyle. Since I was fond of makeup, I had worn a single layer of liquid foundation and many layers of concealer makeup. Tonight my eyebrows were left untouched. I wasn’t a great eyebrow drawer; I always banked my hopes on my roommate. On the lips, I had opted for a red lipstick. But bad for me, it was fading away. This instant tears were welling in my eyes. God! Was I being unreasonable? Dang! Tears coated with mascara had dropped, making black streams which were eroding the makeup. Oh, they were ruining my effort. It had taken me an hour to apply all the makeup. The pain mingled with this rejection. Frankly, I never dealt well with rejection. I was still struggling with the fact that daddy wasn’t part of my life. The therapy sessions–

Don’t go there, Anne. Don’t, I said to myself, snorting nonstop.

Good grief, I had managed to calm myself down. I was ready to leave. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal. Tumi could be texting his family or one of his guys. However, with boys it was difficult to tell and this gut feeling, in the pit of my stomach, told me otherwise. It could be one of his girls; the one he used to bring here. The food they had served us wasn’t the same. Mine was different from his, so was champagne. Yet it was our first date. I grabbed the tissue, wiped off the black lines on my chubby cheeks. Maybe I was overreacting. Well, I shouldn’t ignore the hints either. I headed to the door just in time I heard Tumi knocking at the door. I wasn’t in the mood to open the door for him. Well, you could text in peace, for all I care. I wanted to yell, but I knew it was wrong to react during the heat of the moment. However, enough was enough. I decided to stay till I could hear the fading footsteps. Tumi was leaving. Good boy. I pulled out my lipstick. Just as I applied it, I heard some voices arguing from the outside. News! I had rushed to the window. Don’t do this. I could have listened to the good side of me but the other part of me wanted the news. It was some form of research. But what research? I was still in varsity, still pursuing my B.Ed for heaven’s sake. Teachers didn’t need eavesdropping as a form of research. Well, this would come handy someday. So I stepped on the rubbish bin. May I not fall to my death, dear Lord. I opened the window.

Jesus! There were two people. I couldn’t see who they were, but they were having an argument which was spiraling into a goose bump inducing crescendo. Goodness me, may I not chime in. Had my phone had a proper camera, I could have taken a video. But wouldn’t that be skating on thin ice?

The tall guy said, let’s hijack it.

Oh, boy! Was I eavesdropping on premeditated crime? What was I going to do with this information? Perhaps I could call–

No. Let’s find something incriminating, the hoarse voice said. I’m sure the sonofabitch has some dirt on him.

He was facing the tall guy, his back was all I could see. But his voice wasn’t new to me. Though I couldn’t figure out who he was. The tall guy paced around, giving me an ample chance to see his friend’s face. Dang! Now the dark! I couldn’t see him. Much more to their advantage, the back lights were off. The only light was from the streetlights, a few yards away. Identifying him was difficult for me. But his burly body, the one soccer players also had, set my thinking wheels into motion. Who were they? Why would they choose this spot?

The hoarse voice regretted, his father was a great friend of mine.

Spare me the bullshit. He wanna play with big boys then this is it, the other guy said.

He’s just a kid. Maybe we could rattle his stepdad’s cage. Politicians aren’t squeaky clean.

Huh? You think you’ll find shit on him? That disgrace-to-mankind covers his tracks pretty well. I say the boy. Let’s look at him. It could be a major breakthrough for us. Who knows? Maybe we could be the next greedy circle–

The hoarse voice guy placed his hand on the tall guy’s mouth. He whispered, no mentioning of that name. We’ll never know who could be listening. Now, let’s go.

With that, they walked away. I stepped off the rubbish bin. But the greedy circle kept ringing in my head. I took a glance in the mirror one more time.

The greedy circle! This is insane. But I better check, I told myself.

But how was I going to get to Roma? I shouldn’t have let Tumi walk away. Jesus! What now? I left the bathroom, slogged into the lobby, my tail between my legs. Perhaps I could have allowed Tumi to explain. Perhaps I could have opened the door for him. But then what was done was done – no way of undoing it. I roved my gaze. Truth of the matter, there wasn’t any soul I knew around here. It dawned in me at this moment that my wayward self ruined and complicated everything. This was my signature move.

I headed for exit. Outside, the night was desolate. I roved my gaze every which way. There was no sign of Tumi. Why was I even thinking he would wait up for me? I pulled out my phone, punched my mom’s number. She picked at the second ring. I only said hello when a fancy sports car pulled near me. I glanced inside it. Abuti Maseru, I mean a really fine-looking dude was in there. He was singing along to the music. He waved his hand. I looked back just to make sure there wasn’t anyone behind me he could be waving at. Guys like that never hooked up with girls like me – country bumpkin. Indeed, he was waving at me; it was only me.

He stepped out of the car. Boy had an stocky body. His grey V neck jersey hugged his abs pretty well. His fragrance greeted me. I sniffed dramatically, the guy even smiled at me. May I not scare him away. He stretched his hand over to me. I shook it. Dang! Prolonging this handshake would mess with my thinking. Perhaps this was nothing but a friendly gesture. But we were not friends. Mm, he is a keeper. I pulled off my hand before things could escalate badly. But in me, my concupiscence engine was revving. The boy was all a girl could ever ask for. But am I up for this?

Waiting for somebody? he had asked, just to make up for this awkwardness.

Oh, his voice! God, may I just focus. I glanced passed him to the pavement.

Yup, I lied.

He narrowed his brow while a disappointed scowl plastered his face. Jeez! The boy wanted to give me a ride.

I guess that’s my bad. I thought you were calling a cab. But anyway, it was nice meeting you.

The other part of me scolded me. As he walked to his car, I cleared my throat.

Or not, I said, cocking my head.

I just sounded desperate. He spun, a beam flashing on his face. But I stood there – jammed. The boy had to beckon me to come. I took a glance at the number plate. It was late and I was desperate for a ride, but I had to make sure I was safe. I noted the plate number then texted them to my roommate. I thought of Janet too, but I expunged that idea. She would yell at me for going out with that loser. She had told me a long time ago that Tumi was taking me for a ride. I wished I had listened to her. But hey, mistakes happened and we learned from them. The guy opened the door for me. Oh, such chivalrous! I tucked my dress and climbed in. It was at this instant that I wished Tumi could see me leaning back to the headrest and sniffing dramatically to the smell of brand new leather. The driver climbed in and turned the key in the ignition.

Where are we heading to?

Roma, I said, taking stock at his reaction.

Okay. Buckle up and let’s see if this baby will take us there.

Okay, pride noted. Of course it was a modern sports car. It would definitely take us everywhere we wanted to go.

You don’t mind taking me to Roma?

Don’t tell me you don’t want me to take you there.

God! I should keep my tongue in my mouth. I gazed at him, then shook my head. He smiled.

Actually, I’m driving to clear my head. I’ve got a load of manuscripts back home, waiting for my critique. So, I’m driving to refresh. Just don’t be a literary agent, he glanced at me.

I feigned a laugh. It was a cool job that one. I had dreamed of being one after completing my studies. Well, I was a literature student, books were my thing. Now that I met a literary agent, I had to ask a few questions.

So, is it a lucrative business?

The guy laughed, looking ahead of the road. Okay, that was stupid of me to have ever asked. He halted. Oh Jesus, I had pissed him off. He had changed his mind. How am I going to get to Roma? I should have kept my tongue in my mouth. I looked out. Thanks heaven! He was just stopping at the robots/traffic lights. I inhaled a sheer amount of air.

Can I ask you a question? he enquired, stepping on the gas.

Yup, I said.

I had to be a lady and stopped acting like ausi ‘maphoofo if I really wanted to get to NUL tonight.

What program and year of study are you in?

Bachelor of Education. Majoring in English language and literature in English – third year.

Okay. What are your future plans?

I’ve no idea, I said, cocking my head.

That sounded stupid, but it was true. I hadn’t figured out yet what I was going to do after graduating. I had thought of launching a writing career, but I never heard of any Mosotho making a living out of writing. I had thought of volunteering at my former high school, but I would hate to work with my former Math teacher. She had made my high school days a living hell. She once told me I was stupid like an arse. When she asked me what my plans were, I had told her I wanted to be a writer. She had laughed and coughed till tears welled in her eyes. So I didn’t have plans, or rather I decided not to mention them to anyone. Since I was a self-active, I didn’t have to plan, I did everything spontaneously; and I knew something incredible was waiting for me. But what was it? I had no idea.

You do know our education system is clustered. Every year thousands of teachers graduate from college, and your majors– he looked at me.

I had just met him yet he seemed friendly, like he was talking to his sister or a close friend.

He continued, so you may happen to take five-ten years still unemployed. You know my English language teacher is still teaching. She taught my brother, who is five years my senior. And I’m thirty-four. My point is, if you’re planning to send CVs, you might as well save your breath. Those grandmothers, filling space at schools, will stay there forever. Strange thing, they seem healthy; meaning they won’t die anytime soon, but I’m sorry.

I looked out of the window. Maseru was beautiful at night. Or was it because I was receiving career guidance from a literary agent so my creative self was surfacing? Well, I had written best essays and compositions back at high school. I used to represent my school during district storytelling quizzes. But that was then. It wouldn’t surprise me to find out I was rustic in storytelling. At varsity, we were more into theory than practical. I couldn’t remember ever writing any story. But I was surefire this was the advice I needed and this sports car – I would drive mine someday. The guy halted. I looked out. The lights at main gate of NUL blinded me. We had arrived so soon. I pulled out my purse.

Oh, don’t pay. Just buy a notepad with that money. Jot down anything that comes in your mind and here, he frisked his pockets, pulled out a business card. Ring me when you’re done and good luck with your studies. Remember, it’s rough out there. Take care.

I grabbed the card and climbed out. The guy jumped into the lane and drove away. I waited there, glancing at the car till it vanished into the night.

Author Anne Lethale, I said to myself as I walked through the main gate.

Chapter 1

Should I have committed myself to a mental hospital? Perhaps I could have got to the root of it. Perhaps I could have had answers to the riddle. Oh, the task at hand, shouldn’t I be writing? I scrolled down the blank page before me. This was inure. Worst part, I had book 4 to complete. Yet I couldn’t find my creative juices. Days went by. But what startled me was, if I wasn’t writing, the new ideas would flood in my mind so much that I could spend sleepless night. But then when I approached my computer, everything just went blurred. I checked my calendar. God, I had three weeks to have it done. Would I ever have a chance to write it? My world was static, something just went off. I couldn’t figure out what that was. Or I was just in denial?

Ralph, the clown that I had fallen for, was on the axis, monitoring how my world would revolve so much that it revolved around him. I glanced at the wall, away from the misery of blank page. Ralph’s pictures stared at me. I focused to the one that depicted a smile. Despite what we were going through, which was a breakup, he still had that effect on me. His smile brought back good memories. I propped back to the chair. In my mind came all the good times we had shared together – online. Ralph Mpiti was my heart’s desire – love through the first hi. Well, some people had had love