Avalanche (4 page)

Red guided the car down the curvy mountain road, much slower
than he’d ascended. Pamela remained silent until they were well away from the
B&B.

“Your friends are nice,” she began, searching for neutral
ground. “It was kind of Chelsea to take me home. My car is still at the diner,
do you think that’s okay?”

“How long were you seeing Chase?” Red asked, gruffer than
he’d intended.

“What? Why do you ask?” Pamela was instantly on the
defensive.

“I’m curious. Was he the reason you wanted us to split up?”

“What if he was? Would that make a difference to you? Would
you refuse to help me if I answer yes to that question?”

Red growled, low in his throat.

“No, of course not! It’s simple curiosity, that’s all. I
have a right to know.”

“Really? You have a
right
to know? Your
right
to know anything about me ended the day you left, Red.”

“The day you threw me out, you mean. It was my home, too,
Pamela. My name’s still on the deed.”

“Your name may be on the deed, but I’ve been making the
mortgage payments.” Her temper rose with every word.

“If you’d have taken one of my calls, we may have been able
to work something out. But no, you cut me out of your life and didn’t think
twice. Nice move, by the way, sending all my things to the station house. That
wasn’t embarrassing at all.” It felt as if Red had waited forever to get this
off of his chest.

“You know damn well you spent more time there than you ever
did with me. Besides, if I’d taken your calls, we would have been right back
where we started. It was always a vicious cycle with us, Red. Fight, and make
up. Fight, and make up. I was over it.”

“We may have had a rocky road, but I would never threaten
you the way Chase is doing. Way to pick ‘em, there, Pam.”

“Shut up! Don’t you think I know that?” Pam’s anger quickly
turned from Red to herself.

Red could hear it in her voice. He felt terrible.

“Look, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for, really,” he
cajoled. “You didn’t know he was psycho, he’s got everyone fooled.” Red swiped
his hand over his head. “Let’s start over, okay? I’m Red Starling, Sheriff of
Starsdale. I’m here to help you.” Sticking out his hand, he also tossed her a
sideways grin.

“God, if it were only that simple.” Pamela found herself
grinning back, as she swatted away his hand.

“I know it won’t be simple, there’s too much history between
us. But I’m not your enemy, Pam. I do want to help you. But one of these days,
we have to get some things straight between us. It doesn’t have to be today,
but one day soon.”

Red heard her low moan, as if she dreaded the thought.

“I’m not trying to get back together with you, Pam, so don’t
worry about that. And I have no interest in rehashing anything from our past,
I’m just saying that we left things undone.”

“You mean the condo, right? I know you’ve got a lot of money
tied up there, it was selfish for me to ignore that fact for so long. I’m
sorry. My assistant is helping me to list it for sale. We’ll get together and
work out something fair for us both, when it does. Okay?”

“That sounds reasonable. But I’m not just talking about the
house. My grandmother’s ring was not among the items you sent to the station. It’s
a family heirloom, I’d like to have it back.” Red lowered his voice. The memory
of taking the ring from the safety deposit box and hiding it in the bathroom,
waiting for the right moment to propose, still stung.

“Your grandmother’s ring? What are you talking about?”
Pamela truly had no clue what he meant.

Red looked at her with exasperation, could she really not
know?

“The diamond, I hid it in the bathroom. I’d like to have it
returned. You may not have been the one, but I still hope to meet her, one day.
When I do, I’d like to give her Granny’s ring.”

Pamela was stunned. He planned to propose? Why else would he
have the ring, hidden in the house? Was he crazy?

“Red, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t
seen any ring. I can’t believe you actually thought we were in the right place
for marriage! That is what you’re saying, right?”

“All I knew is that I loved you enough. I thought the rest
would work itself out. You really never found the ring?”

“No, I really never found it. Where did you put it?”

“Inside a box, in the back of the bathroom cabinet. It has
to still be there, if you didn’t find it.”

“What kind of box? Who does that?”

“I don’t know, a box. It was way in the back, like you never
used it.”

“At least that much is right, ‘cause I never saw it. I can’t
believe you thought we were ready for marriage.” Pamela shook her head as she
looked out the window.

“Well, I was wrong. I was wrong about a lot of things. So
sue me,” Red answered, sullenly. “Let’s get back to Chase. When did you break
up? And before you have a hissy fit, I only ask because I need a timeline for
the stalking. Exactly how long has it been going on?”

Pamela sighed, and turned back to Red. She couldn’t believe
that she was grateful for the topic change, but she was. Talking about Chandler
was infinitely better than thinking about Red proposing. The funny thing was,
had he gone through with it, she would have said yes. She loved him that much,
too.

“We started dating last February, well after you left, just
so you know.” She rolled her eyes at him before continuing. “I ended things in
early July. The calls and texts started about a week later. Then the gifts
began to arrive. They were nice, at first. Flowers, live ones, stuffed animals,
tickets to plays he knew I wanted to see. Things like that.”

“The presents were nice, at first. What about the phone
calls and texts?”

“The phone calls started as mostly hang-ups. Sometimes he
would breathe, but he never said anything. I didn’t think they were from him,
at all, until they turned nasty.”

“When was that?”

“About a month in, sometime in August. The texts turned ugly
first, but he still just breathed on the phone.”

“Did you save the texts?”

“Yes. I sent them to my email, before I changed my phone
number the first time. I still have them all.”

“I’d like to see those. When did he stop breathing, and
start talking to you?”

“About a week after the first mean text, sometime towards
the end of August. I documented all of this and gave it to the LA cops. I’m
sure it’s in the file.”

“That’s good, but I’d still like to hear it from you. I
don’t know much about stalking, but I have heard that the rate and type of
escalation is important. I need to do some research,” Red finished, almost to
himself.

“I can’t believe you actually went through with it, moving
back to Starsdale and becoming Sheriff. Do you miss firefighting?”

“What? No…yes…sometimes.” The question took Red off guard.

“I would think you’d get bored, nothing ever happens around
here.” Pamela said, a little wistfully.

“You’d be surprised,” Red chuckled. “The day to day is
pretty quiet, but we do have our share of excitement, from time to time.”

“Surely it’s nothing like what you were doing in LA. At
least you still have Bertha. I have to say, I miss the occasional air trip.”

“Bertha bit the dust, literally, a few weeks back. I’m
looking for a new chopper, as soon as the insurance money comes through.”

“Oh, my God! What happened? Were you hurt?” Pamela looked at
Red sharply, inspecting him for anything she’d missed before.

“No, not really. I was sore for a few days, we all were.”
Red looked at Pam, saw her concern. It warmed his heart. “Four of us got caught
in a storm, on top of a mountain. It was touchy, for a time, but we all came
out okay. Bertha took the brunt of it, may she rest in peace.”

“Poor Bertha, she was a good old bird,” Pamela said
solemnly.

“Yep, I miss her. My next one will have a state-of-the-art
weather radar system, you can bet on that.”

“Turn here,” Pamela told him, just as the car slowed.

“I know where your parent’s lived, Pamela.” Red shook his
head. “I was surprised that you kept the house.”

“I meant to get up here and go through their things, but I
just never made the time. Now, I’m glad to have it.”

“There aren’t any lights on, did you leave it that way?” Red
asked, slipping into cop mode.

“I really don’t know, probably. I was on the porch when the
phone rang. It was just after sunset, but I can’t say if I turned any lights on
when I went into the house.”

“You stay here,” Red commanded, leaning across her to
retrieve his gun from the glove box. “I’ll check things out, then come and get
you. Keep the doors locked!” He was out of the car before Pamela could argue.

She watched as he checked his gun, then held it out in front
of him as he stalked toward the house. She couldn’t help but admire the way he
looked, all hard, and stealth, every muscle on alert. He’d always made her
knees buckle, even during the worst of times.

Red cleared his mind of everything but the task at hand,
even though having Pamela in the car was quite a distraction. He had a lot to
digest, later, when he was alone, but he couldn’t think about any of it now.
That was one sure way to get himself killed, if her stalker was in the house.

The place felt empty, but he still checked every nook and
cranny, before going back outside for Pamela. She’d left the back door open,
not just unlocked. She really must have been spooked to leave the place that
way.

“It’s all clear. Let’s get your stuff. I’ll come back
tomorrow, in the daylight, and check for footprints.”

“So there’s nothing in the house? No dead flowers, nothing
to show he was here?”

“I don’t really know what should be here, and what
shouldn’t, but there are no dead flowers, nothing overtly suggesting he was
here. You’ll know best, if something’s missing, or been added.”

Red stayed beside her on the walk to the house, carefully
scanning the trees for signs of movement. He would never be too careful with
Pamela’s life.

“Everything looks the same,” she told him, after inspecting
the living room. “Let’s check the kitchen.”

“You left the back door open, when you left. Might be a
varmint, or two, running around in here.”

“I didn’t leave the door open, Red. I’m sure of it.” The
color drained from Pamela’s face. I don’t think I locked it, but I definitely
didn’t leave it open.

“It’s possible you didn’t close it all the way, and the wind
opened it.” Red tried to put her at ease. “Let’s get your things. I’ll dust for
prints tomorrow, also. Just in case.”

Pamela walked straight to her bedroom, trying to relive the
moments after the phone call. Did she close the door? Yes. Did she close it all
the way? She couldn’t be sure. Red’s theory was a possibility, but something
told her that it was wishful thinking.

Grabbing a bag from the closet, she almost missed the note,
taped onto one of the dresses hanging in the closet.

She froze, without even reading it.

“Red!”

“What?” He was beside her in a second.

“That.” She pointed to the note, backing away from it like
it was a snake.

The paper was folded over with a beautiful, scripted P on
the front. Grabbing a shirt from the shelf, Red gently removed the note from
the dress, careful not to leave, or smudge, any fingerprints.

“What does it say?” Pamela asked from the center of her
bedroom.

“Hold on, can you get me a pencil?”

“Why?” Pamela asked as she hurried to the bedside table.

“So I can open it without touching it.”

“I have a pen, will that work?”

“Yes.” Red placed the note on the dresser, P side up. With
the shirt, he braced the bottom section of the note, then opened it with the
pen.

So sorry I missed
you, dear Pamela. I
will
see you soon.

If Pamela didn’t know better, she’d swear that a woman wrote
the note. The handwritten script, both elegant and precise, was distinctly
feminine.

“He was here.” Pamela stated flatly.

“Are you sure it’s a ‘he’?” Red mumbled, studying the note.

“What do you mean? Of course I’m sure. He’s trying to remain
anonymous, right? He would never use his own hand to create the note.”

“Did the others look like this one?”

“No, they were all printed, some on a computer, some with
letters cut from a magazine. This is the first one that’s written by hand.”

“It looks like calligraphy,” Red mused, picking the paper up
and holding it to the light. “The paper is nothing special, looks like
run-of-the-mill computer printing paper. Where is your printer?”

“In Dad’s office, down the hall. I haven’t had time to
organize anything in there, yet.” Pamela led the way to the room.

“I looked in here when I checked the house, but I didn’t see
a printer.” Red watched as she pulled out a shelf from beneath the desk.

“Mom liked it hidden away, said it was ugly. Dad rarely used
it, so it wasn’t a problem.”

“There’s no paper.”

“No, and the ink’s probably dried up, too. He didn’t get the
paper from here. He must have brought the note with him.”

“Which means he knew he wouldn’t find you at home. He could
have waited until you left, then placed the note as a scare tactic.”

“Well, it worked. I hate knowing that he violated this
house.” Pamela shuddered.

“It’s psychological torture, pure and simple,” Red told her.
“He’s toying with you, making you sweat before he moves in.”

“Finish that sentence.” Pamela said softly.

“What do you mean?” Red mentally kicked himself for voicing
his thoughts.

“Before he moves in for the kill. That’s what you meant.”

“He will
not
kill you, Pamela. He won’t get that
close, trust me.”