Chapter Three
After the note’s typedtext, there was that same image of a knife blade.Rust-colored spots had been dripped, staining the paper.Blood?The note must have come from the same person sending the emails.The Weirdo.And now he was here.In her hometown.
Wildly, Sarah had glanced around, dropped one of her grocery bags.A can of black olives spilled from the bag, rolled until it came to a stop against her front tire.Bending to collect the can, she sent furtive glances at the store patrons.Her fingers trembled.In the parking lot, people moved calmly to and from their cars.Near panic, she didn’t see anything suspicious.
In that instant she felt hostile eyes on her, but could not identify the source.Every hair on the back of her neck stood at attention.The note really rattled her.The wordsuperwas underlined, a reference, she was certain, to her old nickname, the one she’d left behind: Super Sarah.
It spooked her enough to finally call Rio.After all, he was in the security business.Tossing the grocery bags into the truck, she fumbled for her phone.
“Make a police report,” her brother said in clipped, concerned tones.“Right now.Go over and tell Ted King about this.Give him the note.”Ted King was the Mountain Wood Chief of Police.
“All right,” she said reluctantly, and locked herself in the cab.“I’m in town at the moment so I can stop by the department.But what can the police do about this?”
“Not much,” he said.“You’re describing typical stalker behavior and I don’t like it.Something needs to be done.But I can’t come now, Sis.”
She was aware that down in Texas where he lived, his wife was due to give birth.“I’m sending someone else,” he said.“Someone who’ll resolve your problem.He’ll be there later today.”
“No, Rio,” she said firmly.Her brother could be hard headed, but so could she.The last thing she needed was her privacy invaded.In the last six months, she’d learned to prize her time alone.Turning the ignition key, she pulled out of the parking lot and her earlier impression of being watched faded.“I don’t want anybody coming to the ranch—”
“Still have your pistol and rifle?”
“Don’t worry about that.I’m watching out for myself.The Smith & Wesson is here in my handbag.Rifle is kept in the house, next to the door.Loaded.”
“Good.Keep the handgun close.And stay with Big Jim.”
“Don’t send anyone,” she insisted.Already she was sorry she’d phoned him.She should have thought it through.Naturally he’d overreact.Why hadn’t she realized that?
“Gotta run.Just got a text from Becca.Maybe it’s time.”And the line went dead.
That had been early in the morning.She’d done the right thing by making a police report, and now law enforcement was aware of her situation.They’d be vigilant.Big Jim was concerned, and he was pleased she’d called Rio.He wanted her to keep close by the house, and he hadn’t left the ranch all day, although she hadn’t told him she was going to town.She’d be extra watchful for unfamiliar faces.Nothing would escape her.
She didn’t need any of Rio’s friends arriving to get under her feet, order her around, cramp her life.When she’d panicked and called him, hers had been a knee-jerk reaction.Stupid, stupid, stupid!Naturally he’d be compelled to act, to dosomething.
She sighed.Oh well.If anyone from Rio’s security company showed up, she’d send him packing.
Bending again to scoop more dirt from the hole, she inspected its depth.Leaning in, she placed both gloved hands on either side of the indentation and peered deeply into the bottom, saw that it still wasn’t deep enough, and muttered, “Well, crap.Gotta go farther.”
“Need help with that?”A male voice from above startled her so much she jerked up.
Standing over her was a man she’d never seen before.Dark hair.Tall.Like her, he wore boots, jeans, and a cowboy hat.
A stranger.
She clawed at her holster for her gun.
