Pulling her arms from under the vinyl cape she wore, Maureen reached for the envelope. “It’s addressed to Savannah Corrington. That was the name of your character on Another Dawn.”
Rowena nodded. “It’s common for viewers to know actors by their role rather than their real name.”
“So is it from one of your fans?”
“Just the opposite, I’m afraid.” Rowena leaned wearily against the counter. She’d been unable to sleep well after reading the letter, and her entire body ached with exhaustion. But at least the awful tension that had been building inside her had dissipated.
Once she’d unfolded the letter from the envelope, Maureen began to read it aloud.
“‘My darling Savannah, I love you so very much. How could you leave me? Don’t you know our love is endless. We were so very special together. I never should have let you go. Do you dream of me as I dream of you? Soon, I hope those dreams will become reality. My love is forever. Your devoted Sloane.’”
Maureen’s gaze skimmed over the letter a second time. “Who is Sloane?”
“He was my love interest on the show. But the letter isn’t from the actor who played him.”
“Then who is it from?”
“Max Heller. An ex-boyfriend.”
“You’re sure.”
Rowena sighed. “Almost positive, although I don’t have any proof.”
“So why do you think he’s responsible?”
“Because I started getting those same kind of letters right after I broke up with him. On the same powder blue stationery. I think he wanted to scare me back into his arms by making me believe a deranged stalker was after me. I finally confronted him about the letters, and he denied it, but I never got another one after that.”
Maureen flipped over the envelope. “There’s no return address, although the postmark shows it came from New York. When did the letters start up again?”
“That’s what’s so odd,” Rowena replied. “This is the first one since I moved to Cooper’s Corner six years ago. I guess I wrongly assumed that meant Max didn’t know where to find me.”
“Maybe the resurrection of Savannah Corrington on Another Dawn set him off again.”
“That’s what I thought.” Rowena pulled up the stool behind her and sat down. Her shoes pinched, and she knew before long her feet would start to swell—along with her stomach. Now that the entire town knew of her pregnancy, she could start shopping for maternity clothes. “Did I ever tell you the executive producers of Another Dawn approached me last summer and offered me the role again? Along with a generous signing bonus.”
Maureen tucked the letter into the envelope. “No, but I wondered. I take it you turned them down?”
She nodded. “I like my life here. At least, I did before Alan Rand came to town. I guess it could be worse, though,” she said, suppressing a shiver. “At least Max hasn’t shown up yet.”
“He sounds mentally unstable.”
Rowena shook her head. “Max might go to extremes, but I don’t think he’s actually crazy. Just very controlling. He wants to direct the people in life like he directs the actors on a set.”
“What if the letters never were from Max? What if it was just a coincidence that you stopped receiving them after your confrontation with him?”
“I suppose that’s a possibility.” Then she shook her head. “No, it sounds too much like him to be anyone else. Declaring his undying love at the same time he’s trying to make me feel guilty.”
Maureen set the letter on the counter. “I think you should contact the police. Just to be safe.”
“They won’t be able to do anything. Not on the basis of one letter and not unless Max makes some kind of overt physical threat. I’ve been through this before.” Rowena thought back to those years she’d lived in New York. How isolated she’d felt in a city with over seven million people. Strange how it all seemed like a lifetime ago.
Maureen scowled. “Did this Max ever try to hurt you?”
She hesitated. “One day after shooting on the set, he wanted to take me out to lunch. This was after I’d broken up with him and I knew he wanted to try to resurrect the relationship. When I refused to go, he tracked me down in the parking lot, grabbed my arm and started pulling me toward his car. I was dragged several feet before the security guards finally intervened.”
“That’s horrible,” Maureen exclaimed. “Please tell me he was arrested.”
“I filed a police report, but the producers of the show convinced me not to press charges. They promised to make Max stay away from me, and surprisingly, he did.”
“But you still left the show.”
“Max was just one of the reasons. Did I ever tell you how I got the role of Savannah in the first place?”
Maureen smiled. “No, but I’d love to hear it.”
“I never planned to be an actress. I wanted to be a hairdresser like my mother. Making people feel good about themselves is the best feeling in the world. So I went to cosmetology school, then got lucky enough to land an internship on Another Dawn to assist the stylists there. I learned some fabulous tricks of the trade.”
“Like helping my two little girls look good again after they decided to play hairstylist with each other.”
Rowena laughed. “Yes. I love my work. I did back then, too. But one day a director rushed in and grabbed me for a walk-on role.”
“A role that grew into one of the most popular characters on daytime television.”
Rowena nodded. “Max was the director who discovered me. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I stayed with him as long as I did. But eventually, I found myself spending more and more time in the hair and makeup station. After the last confrontation with Max, I decided I just wasn’t happy anymore. So I told the show I wanted to leave, and that’s how I ended up here.”
“Do you ever miss acting?”
Rowena smiled. “The acting bug never bit me that hard. I’m perfectly content taking part in the Christmas play every year.”
“We’re lucky to have you,” Maureen said, then her smile faded. “But I’m still concerned about this letter. I think you should at least notify the police in New York and ask them to keep an eye on him.”
“I will if they keep coming,” she promised. “Max must be between girlfriends. Maybe if I just ignore the letter, he’ll leave me alone again. I really don’t believe he’s dangerous.”
Maureen looked doubtful. “I’m not sure you should take the chance. Sometimes waiting for the unknown can be more frightening than confronting it.”
“I know you’re probably right.” Rowena waved Maureen over to the barber’s chair, then picked up her comb and scissors. “But for now I’d rather confront my more immediate problem.”
Maureen sat down, draping the vinyl cape over her clothes. “You mean Alan Rand?”
“He’s incredibly stubborn,” Rowena said as she began clipping the ends of Maureen’s long hair.
“Handsome, too.”
“I noticed,” Rowena said wryly.
“So what’s your next move?”
“I wish I knew.”
Maureen didn’t say anything for several minutes, the steady clip of the scissors the only sound filling the air.
“Why not try to make Alan your ally instead of your enemy?” Maureen suggested. “You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman, Rowena. Few men can resist that combination. Perhaps now is the right time to use it to your advantage.”
Rowena laughed, realizing it was the first time she’d done so in several days. “I think you overestimate my powers of persuasion.”
“What can it hurt?” Maureen ventured. “The way I see it, you have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”
“I hate to admit it, but that does make sense.” She brushed some stray clippings off
the back of Maureen’s neck. “Do you have any idea when Alan plans to check out of Twin Oaks?”
“I’m afraid not. He made an open-ended reservation.”
“If he can afford such a long vacation, money must not be a factor for him. So I guess I won’t be able to bribe Mr. Rand out of my life.”
Maureen smiled. “Now tell the truth. Would you really try to do that?”
Rowena laughed again. “Only if my plot to kidnap him and dump him on a deserted island fails. An island with lots of hungry ants.”
“There’s nothing like a little revenge fantasy to make a girl feel better.”
“My thoughts exactly.” She pulled the nylon cape off Maureen and brushed a few stray hairs from her collar. “There you go. No charge today. In fact, I should be the one paying you for letting me cry on your shoulder.”
“Forget it,” Maureen replied, pulling her checkbook out of her purse. “The shoulder is free. So is the advice. I’ve noticed Alan likes honey for breakfast. You might consider using some on him.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE NEXT DAY, Maureen couldn’t get her mind off that strange letter Rowena had received. Was it really from a disgruntled ex-boyfriend? A man who sounded as if he could turn violent if provoked. Or worse, one of those delusional people who thought the characters on a soap opera were real. Had one of Rowena’s fans taken offense when a new actress reprised the role?
Maureen pondered these unsettling questions as she swept the kitchen floor, played with the twins and made pleasant small talk during the afternoon tea. But she grew more and more uneasy as the day went on. She’d lived with her fear of Owen Nevil for over a year now. It had affected her daily life—even the way she viewed strangers.
Last fall an anonymous letter had been sent to Maureen at the New York Police Department. A letter marked personal. The cryptic message still sent a chill down her spine. You can’t hide from me. I will find you.
Knowing that Rowena had to endure that same kind of psychological fear made her want to do something about it. Maybe Rowena’s letter was from a relatively harmless ex-boyfriend with too much time on his hands. Or a disgruntled fan.
But maybe it was something more.
As a former police officer, she was well aware of the danger a stalker could pose. A danger not only to Rowena, but to the baby she carried inside her. While Maureen understood Rowena’s reluctance to involve the police, she didn’t agree with it.
Still, there might be a way she could help her friend without causing more disruption in her life. Since moving to Cooper’s Corner, Maureen seldom had contact with her old colleagues from the New York Police Department. The fewer connections she kept with her old life, the less chance one of them could inadvertently lead Nevil to her. But she did maintain frequent contact with Frank Quigg, the captain of the NYPD detective unit.
A simple phone call to Frank about Rowena’s letter would give her peace of mind. He could check into it, see if Max Heller was up to his old tricks or if the threat was coming from another source. She nodded as she cleared the last of the teacups off the dining room table, her mind made up. She’d call Frank right away.
Maureen checked on Randi and Robin, who were playing with dolls in their room, then made her way to the office to place the call.
Her old captain answered on the first ring. “Quigg here.”
“Hi, Frank. It’s Maureen.”
“Hello, stranger. Good to hear from you.” His gravelly voice was set against a backdrop of ringing telephones and general commotion. For one fleeting moment, the chaotic sounds made her miss her old job.
“Is this a bad time?” she asked, after the wave of nostalgia had passed. Her old life was behind her. Cooper’s Corner was the best place for Maureen. The perfect place to raise her girls.
“Not at all. I was just about to take my afternoon coffee break.”
She smiled. Frank hadn’t taken a break for the last thirty years. The department kept him too busy. He was a seasoned pro who went strictly by the book. She trusted him with her life.
“So what’s up?” Frank asked, never one to mince words. “Any sign of Owen Nevil?”
“No,” she replied. “Nothing out of the ordinary. We’re busier than ever around here. Full up the entire month of February.”
“No suspicious guests?”
His question didn’t surprise her. About a month after the letter with that cryptic message arrived at her old office, she and Clint discovered a guest had registered using a phony name and occupation. Quigg learned the man was a private investigator from New York. Hired by Owen Nevil? She still didn’t know the answer to that question.
“I’ve verified everyone,” she replied. “In fact, I’m calling for a favor.”
“Name it,” he said without a moment’s hesitation.
“I have a friend who might be in danger....”
* * *
ALAN STARED AT the television set, his potato chip poised in midair.
“Don’t leave me, Savannah. You’re the only good thing in my life. The only thing that matters.”
“I’m sorry, Sloane. I have to go back to Derrick. He needs me.”
Alan brought the chip slowly to his mouth, his eyes never leaving the screen.
“What about us, Savannah?” Sloane pulled her into his arms. “Can you really leave me? Leave... this?” He bent his head to kiss her.
Alan picked up the remote control and hit the fast-forward button. After watching four episodes of Another Dawn, he’d developed a deep hatred for Sloane. But he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Rowena. She was incredible in the role of spitfire Savannah Corrington. Poised, clever and coolly manipulative.
What mesmerized him most were the glimpses he saw of the real Rowena. Her contagious smile. That tiny wrinkle in her brow when she was perplexed. The flash of fire in her beautiful amethyst eyes. Fire sparked by anger—or passion.
There was only one part of the show he didn’t enjoy—Savannah’s hot affair with the lead male character. Who could miss the proprietary way Sloane held Rowena when he kissed her? Or those uncomfortable scenes where they shared a bed, their naked shoulders above the silk sheets giving the illusion of complete nudity. Alan knew it was all staged, but he’d reached a point where he had to fast-forward through all the love scenes or go crazy.
Crazy seemed to be the best word to describe him whenever he was around Rowena. Like their confrontation in the general store. He handled sensitive negotiations with tempestuous writers in his business all the time. So why should his dealings with Rowena be any different?
There was something about the woman that made him lose all rational thought. Something about the shape of her full pink mouth that made him crave kissing her. A craving he’d tried unsuccessfully to satisfy with the greasy potato chips he’d bought on impulse this afternoon. Alan stared in distaste at the empty bag on the bed beside him.
As the credits rolled at the end of another episode, Alan hit the stop button on the remote control. It had been a long day. Ed had given him an expansive tour of the village of Cooper’s Corner and the surrounding area. Alan had met several people happy to discuss the gorgeous barber, and what they had to say didn’t surprise him.
Everyone loved Rowena Dahl. From the postmistress to the librarian to the Episcopalian minister. They used words like sweet, kind and thoughtful to describe her, which didn’t exactly fit the hellcat she played with him. Her claws came out whenever he tried to assert his rights to his baby.
Alan sighed, then reluctantly reached for his briefcase. He knew it was past time to get started on the work he’d brought with him. He couldn’t generate any enthusiasm for it—a problem that had plagued him for the last several months. He looked over the list of standard contract clauses his company reassessed every few years. Normally, he’d go over them with
a fine-tooth comb, but now he quickly scanned them, making a few minor changes, then calling it good. Once he faxed his response to the office, he could give Rowena his full concentration.
Grabbing the file, he left the room and bounded down the stairs. A young couple snuggled together on the love seat near the hearth, oblivious to his presence. He could hear the sound of pans clanging in the kitchen as he walked toward the office shared by Clint and Maureen Cooper. The door was closed but not latched. As he pushed it open, his footsteps muted by a thick carpet, he heard Maureen’s voice.
“Yes, Frank, her name is Rowena Dahl. That’s spelled D-A-H-L. And I really do believe she may be in some danger. I was hoping you could assign one of your officers to look into the matter.”
Alan stepped back, pulling the door with him. But he left it cracked open far enough to hear the telephone conversation.
At first, Alan thought Maureen was referring to him as the danger in Rowena’s life. But why would she be contacting a cop? He hadn’t done anything illegal.
“Yes, the letter arrived today,” Maureen continued. Alan knew she was unaware of his presence outside the door. “Powder blue stationery with a postmark from New York, but no return address on the envelope. The letter itself was signed with the name Sloane, but I don’t think that will help us at all. Sloane was Rowena’s love interest on the soap opera Another Dawn.”
Alan’s ethical standards were falling fast. First pumping the townspeople for information about Rowena and now eavesdropping. But if Rowena was in danger, so was his baby. He needed to know for sure. Damn it, he had a right to know.
“Not Rowena’s love interest,” Maureen clarified. “Her character’s love interest.” Another pause. “Yes, I know it’s confusing. But Rowena believes the man who sent the letter is a man named Max Heller. He was a director on the show when she worked there.”
Alan hated hearing a one-sided conversation. Why would Rowena be in danger from a director? The cop on the other end must have asked the same question.
“Yes, they were involved several years ago. Apparently, Heller is a control freak who wasn’t happy when she broke up with him.”
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