Midnight Caller (8 page)

Tess’s eyes widened. “Who else?”

Erin sipped her coffee and squared her shoulders, preparing to deliver the bad news. “Carol. She changed her number, too. But the calls started again. Mostly at night. Poor thing is getting really stressed from sleep deprivation.”

Tess frowned at the news.

“There’s more,” Erin said. “Carol called me earlier tonight. Someone sent a package to her house with rotten fruit and a nasty note inside.” Erin saw fear in her aunt’s eyes, but neither one of them acknowledged it. Speaking the words aloud would make the danger real.

“I want you to get on that phone this minute. Call Tony and tell him what’s going on,” Tess demanded.

“Calm down.” Erin patted her aunt’s hand. “He’s busy right now with an important case.”

“He won’t be too busy for you.”

Erin slid her arm around the older woman’s shoulders. “I’ll tell him. I promise. Tomorrow night after Amy’s birthday dinner.”

Concern shone in her aunt’s eyes.

“I promise I’ll take care of it.” Erin crossed the room and took the receiver off the hook. “See. No more calls tonight. Now stop worrying. Tomorrow’s a busy day. Carol will be over with Amy. And I invited Mr. Fitzgerald for dinner.”

“You did what?” Her aunt’s eyes widened and her hand automatically patted her hair. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.” Erin grinned. “Our neighbor’s all alone. I thought he might like a good home-cooked meal.”

“I’m the one cooking this home-cooked meal. I should have a say-so in who gets to eat it.”

Erin bit her lower lip to hide her smile at the look of feigned indignation on her aunt’s face. Tess had been talking over the
fence with the man for years. The past few months those talks had subtly changed to flirting. She knew Tess was pleased about the invitation. Unable to resist the urge to tease her, Erin said, “You’re absolutely right. Should I make an excuse and take back the invitation?”

“You can’t go askin’ a man to dinner and then turn around and take it back. That wouldn’t be neighborly. I just wish I’d known. I need time to prepare.”

Erin chuckled as she watched her aunt hurry down the hall, probably already lost in thought about choosing a dress. Romance has no age barriers and Erin loved helping Cupid along. She rinsed the cups and was about to leave the kitchen when the phone caught her attention. She considered putting it back on the hook. What if someone needed to get in touch with her? The hospital? Or Carol? Or Tony? She decided to leave her cell phone on, but this house needed one night of silence. Peace. Sleep. She left it off the hook.

Erin turned off the light and looked out the window over the kitchen sink. Who are you? Her eyes scanned the shadows in the yard. Why are you doing this? What do you want?

The lightheartedness of a few moments ago vanished. She pictured the violet circles under Carol’s eyes and heard the edginess in her voice. She pictured the fear in her aunt’s eyes. She thought about the withered black rose left on her windshield and a chill raced up her spine.

I don’t know who you are, you creep. But I refuse to let you frighten me
. She stared out into the darkness.
Yeah, right
.

T
ony shuffled through the folders on his desk, pulling one out. Flipping it open, he stared at the photo inside. Okay, Leigh, tell me how you met this guy? Help me find him.

He was missing something. He could feel it. But he’d gone over the material a hundred times. Still, something nagged at his subconscious. Something he heard. Something someone said. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate. What was it?

He stretched in his chair, cupping his hands behind his neck. Every muscle in his body protested from bending over these files for hours and neglecting his daily workout. He needed to get out of here. Stretch his legs. Maybe jog a little. Get the cobwebs out of his mind.

Eyeing the phone, he thought about someone else he’d neglected lately. He knew he shouldn’t have accepted Erin’s invitation to Amy’s birthday dinner. She needed to start spending time with someone she could build a future with, not someone who was married to his job.

His mind conjured up a picture of Erin with another man and an uncomfortable sensation twisted his gut. He reached for the phone and dialed her number before he could change his mind. Saved by a busy signal. He shifted in his chair.
Okay, buddy. Repeat after me. Erin hates cops. I am a cop. Erin needs commitment. I am commitment-phobic. Should be a no-brainer
. So why couldn’t he get her out of his mind?

Tony thought about the telephone calls, the dead rose, the poem and found the whole situation unsettling. At least one of the victims had received harassing calls and the possibility, no matter how remote, of Erin being in danger was unacceptable. He had to find the killer. He leaned forward and reopened a file.

Erin lathered herself with lilac body wash. The hot shower spray’s pulsating massage hit the back of her neck, rolled across her shoulders and flowed down her spine. She could feel the tension of the day disappear.

She knew she had to tell Tony everything. No more half truths. No more trying to handle things alone. The Lord reminded her of the foolishness of pride when she opened her Bible earlier and read 1 Corinthians 8:2, “If anyone thinks he knows all the answers, he is just showing his ignorance.”

Reality hit her hard. Depending on others made her uncomfortable. She particularly didn’t want to have to depend on a man. Even if the man in question had proven a dozen times he could be depended upon.

Carol often cautioned her about trying to run her own life. Encouraged her to turn the reins over to the Lord, pray daily, listen for His wisdom and direction. Let Him put people in her path to assist when needed. Tony definitely stood right in the middle of her path, didn’t he?

Erin stepped from the shower, toweled off and slipped into her pajamas. What was the matter with her? Whenever Tony was around she became a stereotype of a love-sick teenager, flirty, silly, giggling. Why couldn’t she just be friends with the man?

Her eyes locked with her mirror’s reflection and she knew the answer. Because he was the kind of man she had dreamed about her entire life. She pictured him leaning in the kitchen doorway, his hair tousled, his jacket thrown carelessly over his shoulder, with that crooked, come-hither smile on his face.

She thought about how right it felt to see him sitting across the table at dinner. Drying dishes with Tess. Playing video games with Jack. He proved himself over and over to be dependable, capable and self-assured.

And he liked her, too. He didn’t want to. She chuckled to herself. Over the past month, she’d seen him war with his feelings. He’d be laughing or talking or just genuinely enjoying himself. Then he’d catch himself. His eyes would darken, like he physically pulled down a curtain, and she could sense a change. A push-pull reaction of wanting to be here with her, with Jack and then not wanting to be. She couldn’t be disappointed or angry about it. She happened to be in the same boat. Wanting to let her guard down. Wanting to trust a man again. But she wouldn’t survive the pain if she dared to trust Tony and he broke her heart.

Erin just couldn’t get past her fear. After her divorce, followed so closely by her father’s death, she had devoted herself to Jack, Tess and her job. She’d pretended an outward facade of self-assurance and strength until, one day, it became the truth. She toughened up and took control of her life. A life with no room for love.

Love makes you vulnerable. Suddenly, you’re accountable to someone else for everything. Even your own personal space is no longer just your own. Erin felt safe in her private little world and Tony, a man she knew she could never control, threatened that comfort zone.

A small voice inside told her change isn’t always bad.
Adding Tony to their lives could enrich it.
Was
enriching it. But if she listened to that voice, she’d be putting everything she held dear at risk and she didn’t think she had that kind of courage.

Erin slipped between the sheets and stared sightlessly at the ceiling.
Please help me, Lord. What is Your will for my life? Should I take a chance on Tony? Do I dare dream it could all work out?

A subtle rustling in the darkness drew her attention to her open bedroom door. Was Jack sneaking out of his room? No. The subtle sound was not made by a five-year-old with a walker. Erin held her breath and strained to listen. There it was again. Someone was in her house.

She grabbed the phone to call 911. The line was dead. She’d left an extension off the hook in the kitchen. Now what? Her cell phone. She grimaced the moment the thought popped into her head. She’d left it charging overnight on the kitchen counter. Her choice was made. She slipped on her robe and searched the room for a weapon. Standing in her closet doorway, she frowned at the shoe in her hand. What damage did she think she could do with a stiletto? She couldn’t even walk in the stupid things let alone stop a burglar with one.

Still, it was better than nothing. She’d aim for the eyes. Aim for the eyes? Was she crazy? She’d better not get close enough to see this bad guy’s eyes or she’d probably faint. Tucking the shoe into the pocket of her robe, she tiptoed into the hall, her bare feet soundless against the hardwood floor. She paused. Silence. She waited a few minutes more. Nothing.

The tension in her shoulders eased.
I’m letting those phone calls turn me into a basket case
. She started to turn back.

There it was again. The sound came from the direction of the living room. She had to get to the kitchen and phone for
help. Erin paused while her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Why had she been so stupid and taken the phone off the hook?

She padded down the hallway, carefully avoiding the darker shadows of furniture and plants in her path. Trying not to reveal her presence, she inched toward the kitchen. Every step seemed to take a lifetime. Every creak of the floorboards froze her in place until she felt safe enough to proceed.

The sounds from the living room intensified as she drew closer.

Ten more feet to the kitchen. Fear squeezed her throat. Her breath came in shallow, short puffs. She entered the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife from the knife block on the counter. Stupid idea. He can
use it on you
. Still, it gave her a false sense of security and anyone would have had a hard time prying it out of her fingers.

Only a few more steps and she’d be able to reach the phone.

She crept forward. Blood rushed through her veins like a runaway freight train. Her heart pounded with such intensity she expected it to burst at any moment.

Squeak. The sound startled her. Someone had opened the hall closet.

What was going on? Did she dare peek?

She tilted her head an inch, then another to see past the kitchen doorway. What was she doing? She hated scary movies where the heroine was too stupid to live. Forget this. She’d call for help and let the police take care of her living room guest.

She eased the phone back in the cradle, counted to five and slowly lifted it out again. Never had she been happier to hear a dial tone. She slid down to the floor, hiding in the corner. She kept the knife in front of her for protection if she needed it and dialed 9–1-1.

Erin told the operator someone was in her home and gave her address. Although she whispered, in the dark stillness of the room it sounded like a shout. “Hurry, please.”

A crash sounded in the living room, followed by the sound of breaking glass, and then silence.

Had the burglar heard her on the phone? Was he going to come for her? Or had he run away?

Erin’s mind counted the seconds. Jack. Tess. She wanted to run down the hall to her family. But what if the burglar heard her and followed? No. They’d be safer if she remained in place. Waiting. Praying. Suddenly red and blue lights from the police car in her driveway poured through the windows and danced across the foyer walls. Only then did she dare leave her hiding place.

Within seconds, she opened the dead bolt and welcomed the officers inside. She flipped on lights in the foyer, living room and kitchen, seeing the scene for the first time. The two officers, with Erin trailing a healthy distance behind, walked through each room. Nothing seemed out of place or disturbed. Erin took a hurried look around and nothing appeared to be missing, either.

“Tell us again what happened, ma’am,” one of the police officers asked.

Erin pulled her robe tighter, hugging her arms around her body. “I heard a noise. Someone was in the house. I couldn’t call for help from the bedroom, so I had to sneak into the kitchen for the phone. I called 9–1-1. I think he heard me and ran off.”

The officers glanced at each other. Everyone turned at the sudden commotion in the foyer.

Tony burst through the door, flashed his badge at the officers and folded her in his arms. “Are you okay? Jack? Tess?”

She welcomed his strength and allowed herself to lean her head against his chest. “We’re fine.”

“I heard the call go out on the scanner and got here as quickly as I could.” He tilted her chin and looked into her eyes. “What happened?”

“Someone broke into the house.”

One officer had gone outside. The other stood quietly by their side.

“There are no signs of forced entry, ma’am.”

Erin could hear the sound of Tony’s heart beating beneath her ear and the strong, steady rhythm comforted her. Slowly, she lifted her face from his chest and turned her attention to the waiting officer.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“There are no signs of forced entry. Did you actually see anyone, ma’am?”

“No. I hid in the kitchen.”

“Can you tell me if anything’s missing?” The officer held a pen poised over a small notepad and waited for her response.

She stepped away from Tony and wrapped her arms around herself. “It doesn’t look like anything has been stolen. But I heard something break.”

“Are you sure, ma’am? Take a good look around. Take your time.”

Erin did as requested and shook her head.

“Maybe you frightened him off before he could do any damage,” the officer said.

“Wait,” Erin said. “My aunt’s crystal vase. That’s what broke.”

They looked at the broken pieces of crystal sticking out beneath the table cover.

Tony moved the curtains. “The window’s open. Maybe he came in here.”

“Or maybe the rustling you heard was a breeze blowing the curtains and it knocked the vase over. See. Nothing to worry about,” the officer assured her.

“Unless the wind has size twelve feet.” All three heads turned toward the second officer standing in the entranceway. “Found a footprint in the flower bed beneath that window.”

Tony had moved to the foyer. “Erin, did you open this closet door?”

“No. But I heard it squeak. I’ve been meaning to oil it and keep forgetting. I know he opened that door.”

Tony withdrew a pen from his pocket and, careful not to disturb any possible prints, he slowly eased the door open all the way.

“What’s this?”

Tony grinned and Erin moved closer to see what he found so amusing. In the bottom of the closet was an old army blanket, a flashlight, two comic books, an action figure and a half-eaten peanut butter sandwich.

“That’s Jack’s fort. He loves playing in there.” Erin snatched up the sandwich. “I don’t know how many times I’ve told him not to leave food lying around, especially in Florida, but does he listen? No.”

Tony placed his hands on her shoulders and eased her to the side. “What have we here?” He took out a handkerchief, bent down and gingerly lifted a small pile of photographs. He brought them out into the light of the foyer and laid them on the hall table. The grim expression on his face and furious glint in his eyes made a chill race up her spine.

“Tony? What is it?”

Tony turned to one of the police officers. “Call it in. This is a crime scene. We need forensics here stat.”

“Tony?” Erin stepped closer for a look at the photographs
splayed across the table top. Her stomach twisted in knots and her legs threatened to collapse. They were photographs of her. At the grocery store. Coming out of work. Sitting on the porch. Playing with Jack in the yard. There were even pictures of her at the Easter picnic fundraiser. And every picture had a black X over her face.

Crouching behind the bushes, he ignored the ache in his legs and stared through the high-powered camera lens at the house. He knew it wasn’t safe to be here. The cops were still crawling all over the place. But he was far enough away. They weren’t looking for him. They probably thought he’d be long gone by now. And he knew he should be. But he had to see. Had to know if they found the gift he’d left for them in the hall closet. A giggle escaped his lips.

He peered through the lens and brought the scene into focus. There she was. Pacing back and forth on her porch. He’d guessed the commotion had woken the old lady. She was sitting in one of the porch rockers. Her neighbor sat in the other one. He didn’t quite know if the man was being neighborly or just plain nosy. Didn’t matter. None of them mattered but her.

He moaned in frustration. He didn’t have a satisfactory view from here but he didn’t dare draw closer.