He left the bedroom and returned to the living room. He sank down on the sofa and checked the time. The rain was now coming down in torrents, although there was no thunder or lightning. He hoped Ainsley remembered to call him when she got home.
There had been a moment when he’d thought she was going to tell him something, but then she apparently changed her mind. What might she have to share with him? He pushed that moment out of his head. If she did have something to tell him, then hopefully, eventually she would.
He still hoped to get to the bottom of the roses that had been sent to her and the nasty note left at the café. Both left a bad taste in his mouth and unsettled him, and he knew she was worried about the same things.
He wouldn’t feel better until he solved the mystery of who had sent the flowers and left the note. It was so odd, to get beautiful roses and then the horrible note. Were they from a single person or two separate people? Once again he wondered if and when something more might happen, and if there would be a dangerous escalation?
SHE’D ALMOST TOLD HIM. There had been a moment when she’d been comforting him that Ainsley had wanted to come clean and tell him the truth about herself. But the moment had passed without her confessing anything.
Did she really have to tell him anything? The people from the battered-women underground had assured her that her new identity would stand up under any scrutiny. Could she go forward with Hunter and never tell him the truth?
She didn’t believe she could. But she had to pick the perfect time to tell him about Peter and how she had violated a child custody order and gone on the run.
She felt like she just needed a little more time. She wanted to see if her daughter would come around where Hunter was concerned—once she did, then it would be time for Ainsley to come clean with Hunter.
The rain pelted her car window as she drove down Main Street, making visibility difficult. But it was easy to see the car lights that fell in too close behind her.
She frowned. It was too dark for her to be able to tell what kind or color of car followed her. Were they actually following her? Or was it just a coincidence that somebody was driving so close to her?
Her heart beat an uneven rhythm as she tightened her fingers around the steering wheel. Was it possible the person who had left the nasty note was behind her right now? Were they going to run her off the road? Try to get her out of her car?
She shuddered with relief as the car turned off on a side street and disappeared from her sight. She released a deep sigh. God, she had gotten herself so worked up, and it had probably just been somebody in a hurry to get home in the rain.
The next couple of days passed without incident. Hunter told her he was still hunting down the sender of the roses and the note, but she knew he had nothing to go on and so was expecting no real results.
She now sat in Dr. Atkins’s office, waiting for Melinda to get finished with her latest therapy session. On the way over Melinda had told her mother that Peter had stopped talking to her every night, but he still talked to her every other night or so. Ainsley hoped that this was a sign that slowly Melinda was giving up the fantasy of her father talking to her at night.
Tomorrow she, Hunter and Melinda were set to go out for pizza, and Ainsley definitely didn’t want any repeat of the last time the two people she cared about had tried to spend time together.
Dr. Atkins had spoken to Ainsley first to see how things had gone over the past week. Ainsley had told her that for the most part Melinda had stopped talking about Peter, but Ainsley wasn’t sure if that meant Melinda was putting away the fantasy or if she’d simply stopped sharing with Ainsley.
Forty minutes later Dr. Atkins and Melinda walked out. Once again they were both smiling, and Ainsley felt herself relax. “If you don’t mind, I’ll call you later in the week to touch base with you,” Dr. Atkins said to Ainsley. “Unfortunately I’ve had an emergency come up, and I need to leave right now and head to the hospital.”
“Then I’ll talk to you later and we’re out of here,” Ainsley replied.
“How are you feeling?” Ainsley asked once she and Melinda were in the car.
“Good, but I’d feel better if we went to get ice cream.”
Ainsley laughed. “Is this going to be a thing every time we see Dr. Atkins?”
Melinda giggled. “Yeah,” she replied.
“Then I guess we’re going to get ice cream.” Ainsley would have liked to hear from Dr. Atkins after she’d spoken to Melinda, but she’d just have to wait to hear from the doctor. Although her first instinct was to ask Melinda all kinds of questions, she refrained from doing so.
While the two ate their ice cream, Melinda talked about school and the friends she had made since they’d been in Dusty Gulch.
“Don’t forget that tomorrow night we’re going out to the pizza place with Hunter,” Ainsley said.
“I know, and I told you I’ll behave,” Melinda replied.
“Honestly, Melinda, Mr. Hunter is a really nice man.”
“I can be nice to Mr. Hunter and still go with Daddy when he comes for me,” Melinda replied.
“That’s true,” Ainsley said even though she wanted to protest and tell Melinda her father wasn’t coming for her. “And I would appreciate you being nice to Mr. Hunter.”
“Can we go for ice cream tomorrow night after the pizza?” Melinda said hopefully.
Ainsley laughed. “Girl, you’re pushing your luck with all this ice cream.” Melinda grinned at her and licked at the cone she held in her hand.
Both mother and daughter were in good moods as they returned to their apartment. As they stepped out of the car, darkness had begun to fall.
Despite the shadows by the door, the square package on the stoop was hard to miss. Wrapped in bright pink paper and sporting pink and yellow ribbons, it looked like a birthday present waiting to be opened.
“Mom, is it your birthday?” Melinda immediately asked.
“No, honey. It isn’t my birthday.” Ainsley stared at the box, her heart thudding loudly in her ears. She knew Hunter was on patrol tonight, but there was no way he’d drop a package outside her door and not tell her about it. So, who had left it? And what was inside?
“It looks so pretty. Aren’t you going to pick it up?” Melinda’s voice reached through Ainsley’s racing thoughts.
Ainsley bent over and picked it up and then unlocked the door and together they stepped into the little apartment. Ainsley carried the “present” into the kitchen and set it on the table.
She stared at it, unsure if she should be afraid or not. With the roses and the note, she had no idea what to expect. She suddenly became aware of Melinda staring at her curiously. “Mommy, aren’t you going to open it?”
“Maybe later. Right now you need to go get ready for bed. You have school tomorrow.”
Melinda looked at her curiously. “So, you aren’t going to open it now?”
“No, honey. I might even wait and open it tomorrow night when Hunter gets here,” Ainsley replied. “Now, run in and get a quick shower.”
An hour later Melinda was in bed, and Ainsley sat at her table and eyed the package. She hadn’t wanted to open it in front of Melinda in case it was something inappropriate for a young girl to see.
Just because the packaging was fun and pretty didn’t mean there was something fun and pretty inside. Or did it? Dammit, who had left it for her?
There was no way she was going to wait until the next night to find out what was inside. She picked the present up and shook it. It had a little weight to it, but made no noise when she moved it back and forth.
Just open it, she told herself. Whatever was inside couldn’t hurt her. She was being completely childish in being afraid of what she didn’t know.
The present had obviously been wrapped with care. The ends were perfectly folded and taped. She opened one sid
e. Beneath the wrapping paper was an ordinary brown cardboard box. Carefully she took off all the paper and folded it neatly.
She then eyed the cardboard box. She thought of the beautiful roses she’d received and then the nasty note. There was absolutely no way to anticipate what might be inside the package.
Just open the damned thing, she repeated to herself. She grabbed a pair of scissors, cut the tape across the top of the box and then opened the flaps.
A scream rose up inside her, and she slapped her hand over her mouth to keep it inside. She shoved away from the table, nausea threatening as fear and horror shot through her.
Hunter. She needed him. She leaned forward to grab her purse straps and then pulled it into her lap. She fumbled for her phone and then hit the button that would call him.
Chapter Nine
Hunter raced across town to get to Ainsley’s place. Her tearful call had been nearly incoherent. All he really got out of it was that something had happened and she needed him.
Because there were few people out on the streets, he could push the speed limit to get to her. Unfortunately, he’d been on the other side of town when he’d gotten her call.
He wasn’t supposed to be on duty at all, but he had taken on an extra shift because of another officer being off for a family death. With so few deputies in the town, it wasn’t uncommon for all of them to pick up extra shifts to make sure the town was protected at all times.
He finally pulled up by her door. He’d barely gotten out of his car when she flew out of the apartment and into his arms. She cried into the front of his shirt, her body shaking as he pulled her close.
He let her cry for several moments and then he unwrapped her arms from around him. “Ainsley...honey, what’s going on? What’s happened?”
“I...we went to Melinda’s a-appointment and then g-got ice cream and wh-when we got home there was a p-present on the doorstep.” The words jerked out of her amid her tears.
“A present?”
She nodded and drew in several deep, long breaths in an obvious attempt to calm down. “It was wrapped up pretty like a present.”
“Why don’t we go inside so I can see it,” he suggested.
“Melinda is asleep. I wanted to scream, Hunter.” She grabbed his arm. “I still feel like screaming.”
“You try not to scream and I’ll try to keep it down so neither of us wake up your daughter,” he said gently. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her toward the door.
“It’s on the kitchen table,” she said. “I...I’m not sure what it is. All I saw was blood and fur.” A sob choked out of her.
He went directly to the table where a square cardboard box set next to some ribbon and pink wrapping paper. She stopped behind him.
He opened the flaps and almost jumped backward. He forced himself to lean in to get a good look at what was inside. He grabbed gloves out of his back pocket and pulled them on, then moved the contents inside the box to better identify what it was.
“It’s a dead rat,” he said softly. It was a dead, bloody rat with the throat cut. He closed the box and retaped the lid. “Do you have some sort of a sack I can carry all this out in?”
She went to the cabinet beneath the sink and pulled out a café takeout sack. “Hunter, please help me make sense of this,” she said, her voice shaking as she handed him the sack.
“There is no sense to make of it,” he replied tersely. Dammit, who was doing this to her? And why? A dead rat to him implied a threat even though no note was included. He quickly placed the box and the wrapping paper into the sack and then carried it out into the living room and set it just outside her door on the stoop.
He turned back to find her looking at him. She looked so small, so achingly vulnerable clad only in a pink nightshirt. Her eyes were filled with fear, and as she reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers trembled.
He took her hand in his and pulled her down to the sofa. He sank down next to her. Even though he was on duty, there was no way he could just walk away and leave her so frightened.
What he wanted to do was take her to bed and warm her body with his. He wanted to hold her through the night if that was as long as it took to make her fear ease.
“Ainsley, I swear I’m going to do everything in my power to get to the bottom of all this.” He took her hand in his, hating how cold and small it felt in his.
“I just can’t imagine why this is happening to me. I’ve been nice to everyone I’ve met. I haven’t caused any trouble for anyone.” She held his gaze, and her eyes were filled not only with fear, but also confusion.
“I’m just as confused by all this as you are,” he admitted. “But the good thing is nobody has tried to physically harm you.”
“Not yet,” she said darkly.
“I’m going to find this creep, Ainsley. It’s possible I’ll be able to pull some fingerprints off the wrapping paper or the box itself.”
“I hope you can.” She released a deep sigh. “I just want this all to end. I don’t know who is doing this to me or why, but I want it to stop.”
“I’m going to figure this out, Ainsley.” He felt like he was saying the same words to her over and over again. “But in the meantime, if you get anything else like this, don’t touch it and call me immediately.”
“Trust me, I’ll call you,” she replied.
Reluctantly he released her hand. “I wish I could stay here with you, but I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll make an official report on this, and I’m going to start interrogating people to see if somebody might know what this is all about.”
She stood as he did, and she walked with him to the door. He pulled her into his arms and held her for several minutes. The trembling in her body finally ceased and reluctantly he released her.
“Ainsley, try not to worry. I won’t let anything happen to you or your daughter. This is somebody who must just like the idea of freaking you out. Don’t let them win.”
“I’m trying not to be freaked out, but I am,” she admitted.
“I know. Now, try to get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He leaned forward and gave her a kiss on her forehead.
Minutes later he was back in his patrol car, seething with anger and hoping like hell the culprit had left a few fingerprints behind on the package.
Right now about the only thing he could arrest the perp for was trespassing. If he couldn’t get the person in jail, then he’d make sure the person knew that to bother Ainsley again meant he was risking his health and well-being.
As he thought about Ainsley’s fear, it ticked him off enough to want to beat the hell out of somebody. He now clenched his hands on the steering wheel.
Dammit, he didn’t know whom to question. He’d never heard anyone speak negatively about her, so who was behind this reign of terror? He certainly didn’t believe Ben Wilkins was capable of carrying out this kind of harassment.
A dead rat with its throat cut. Who was holding that kind of madness inside them? Who would think about catching a rat, slitting its throat and then packaging it up in pretty paper? It was such a disgusting and heinous thing to do.
He thought he knew the people of this small town. He knew the people who suffered from various mental issues and the ones who liked to cause trouble. But none of the people he knew had a mind so wicked as to do this to a vulnerable single woman.
He drove directly to the sheriff’s station, eager to give the wrapping paper and box to fellow deputy Larry Knight, who was an expert at lifting fingerprints, among other lab-related things.
Unfortunately, Larry wasn’t at work right now. Hunter called him and told him where to locate the items the next day when Larry came on duty.
Once that was finished, Hunter hit the road again. The first place he drove was to Lana Kincaid’s house. The woman had worked as a waitress
at the café for as long as Hunter could remember.
Lana knew practically everyone in town, and because gossip was rampant in the café she was the keeper of many secrets. She also probably knew more about the people in Dusty Gulch than he did.
She lived in a small ranch house on three acres just outside the main district. As he pulled in, lights shone out of her windows, letting him know she was still awake.
He parked and got out of his car. The front door opened just before he reached it, and Lana greeted him with a look of surprise. “Well, it’s not often one of Dusty Gulch’s finest comes visiting. Come on in.” She opened the door to allow him entry.
He’d never been inside Lana’s place before. He stepped into the living room and was vaguely surprised to see a pink zebra-striped sofa and a purple zebra-striped chair. The end tables and coffee table were glass, and the lamps on the end tables held enough sparkly crystals to blind a man.
Lana laughed. “It’s all pretty unique, right?” She laughed and gestured him toward the sofa. “I bought all this stuff online after my last divorce. I know I don’t have much decorating sense, but I just bought what I loved. I don’t give a damn what other people think. If my next husband doesn’t like my furniture, then he can stay in my garage. Now, can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thanks, I’m good. I just want to ask you a few questions.” He sank down on the edge of the sofa.
She sat in the purple zebra chair, the light from the garish lamp glittering on the side of her face. “Questions about what?”
“About Ainsley.”
“Has something else happened since she got that terrible note?” Lana leaned forward, obvious concern on her wrinkled face.
“Somebody delivered a rat with its throat cut to her doorstep this evening. It was wrapped up like a present.”
“Oh my goodness. Who on earth would do such a thing?” she asked.
Stalker In the Shadows Page 10