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K atherine wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she came to. Both dogs were all over her, Sam’s paws digging into her shoulders, his breath warm on her face. Sophie nudged her arm with her nose. Katherine gently pushed the dogs aside, leaning her head down to get the blood flowing to her brain.

Had she fainted? Shifting into an upright position, the lightheadedness easing, she stood, carefully keeping one hand on her desk to steady herself as she bent down to pick up her computer. The webpage she’d been reading was still up. She glanced at the time in the upper right corner of her screen. Barely five minutes had passed. Though she was hesitant to read through the obituary again, she knew she had to.

The names were too close to those in her memory for this to be a coincidence. Her hands shook once more, and she squeezed them together, trying to still them. Reading the obit once more, she acknowledged the possibilities. The odds were so high that anyone who knew of her situation would agree something strange was happening. This was not a coincidence. Nor was it a coincidence that Karrie had just added her last name to her profile. Wishing she had a friend who wasn’t on her fan page or who hid their identity behind a computer, Katherine needed to share this with someone she trusted. The only person she knew she could trust was Doc Baker. Without hesitating, she took her phone out of her pocket, its usual home when she wasn’t charging it, and texted him.

Can you come over? It’s important. Dogs are fine.

Was she overreacting? Probably. No, she wasn’t. This was too much to be just a coincidence.

You okay, kiddo? Doc texted back.

No, she wasn’t, though she didn’t want to text those exact words to him.

A problem I need to discuss.

Hearing the market delivery vehicle pull up, both dogs began to bark, running to the doors she’d left open earlier. She followed them, waiting behind the door while the delivery boy put her bags outside. “Good dogs,” she heard him say. It must be Royce, their favorite friend from the market. Katherine knew he was the owner’s son, and her dogs seemed to like him, since he usually had a treat for them. Hopefully he didn’t share her shopping list with the community events webpage. Most likely his mother was the culprit, as she was a huge gossip hound, according to Doc Baker.

When Katherine heard Royce’s car pull away, she brought the bags into the kitchen and removed the two disposable cell phones. She wanted it done before Doc Baker arrived, fearing he’d question her about them. For now, she didn’t want him to know she’d gone this far. Feeling calmer, she would fill Doc in on the basic details and hear his thoughts before deciding whether to phone Karrie. She stuffed the rest of her order and the disposable cell phones inside the pantry.

For the third time in one day, she heard Doc’s old Ford truck wind its way up the drive. His office was nearby; he’d told her that when they first met. Sam and Sophie did their usual pouncing out the door to greet their true best friend.

Following the dogs inside, he called out, “K, it’s me.”

“In here,” she said. On a whim, she took a good bottle of wine from the refrigerator and two glasses from the cupboard.

“No coffee? This must be heavy duty,” Doc said, sitting at the bar.

“You okay with a glass of Chablis?”

“I’d love a couple of glasses, but one will do. I gotta drive home.”

“Of course.” Katherine hadn’t considered that, as she could get smashed and never have to worry about driving home. Not that she got drunk very often but, sadly, she could whenever she chose to.

“I know what I’m about to tell you is going to sound crazy,” she told him, while uncorking the bottle of wine. If he’d thought her crazy before, what she was about to tell him would convince him he was right. In all fairness, Doc had never even insinuated anything about her mental status other than this morning, when he asked her if she would consider talking to his friend.

“Listen, kiddo—I’ve heard crazy and crazy. Not much surprises me these days,” he said.

Katherine poured half a glass for him and one for herself. She sat beside him and took a sip of wine before she began her story. “Promise me what I’m about to tell you will remain between us?”

He nodded. “I’m not one for carrying tales, K.”

She knew that but needed it said anyway. “I trust you. I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t. You know my pseudonym, right?”

Grinning, he said, “My granddaughter has read every one of your books, so to answer your question, yes, of course, I do.”

Katherine raked a hand through her tangled mass of hair. “I didn’t know you had a granddaughter.” She didn’t know if he was married, single, divorced, or widowed.

“She’s fifteen, going on thirty.”

He didn’t offer more details of his family life, so she didn’t pry. “It seems many girls are like that these days.” That knowledge came from her research and from her interactions on the fan page. She hoped Doc’s granddaughter didn’t cuss as most girls online did.

“So, why’d you drag me away from suturing a cat’s ear?” Doc asked.

Katherine laughed. “I didn’t mean to take you away from work, though since I did, I’d better explain why.” She took another sip of wine and said, “My parents weren’t around much when I was young. They traveled the world together and had little time for a small child. I had plenty of nannies and housekeepers to care for me, plus a private tutor.” She traced her finger along the stem of her wineglass. “My family was very wealthy,” Katherine told him. “They left their fortune and their business to me. I used some of the money to purchase this place.”

Doc laughed. “I wouldn’t dare ask what this set you back, but go on,” he encouraged.

“Six point four million,” she said. “A lot for just one person, but I had my reasons for wanting land and privacy.”

“I won’t ask what those six point four million reasons were,” he said, chuckling.

“Thank you,” she said, then continued. “I was sent to boarding school in Spain when I was twelve. It was awful, as I’d never been to a real school. Up until then, I’d had a private tutor at home. Needless to say, after graduating, I left Spain and all the bad memories behind. Went to college in Boston, got my master’s degree, and a job. I worked at The Boston Globe for a few years.” And then there was Adam. She would keep that time of her life to herself. Doc didn’t need to know, as it wasn’t relevant to her current situation.

“I’m impressed,” he said.

She could tell. “Thanks. I enjoyed my work. I still do, despite my fears. Without my work, I’d be one screwed-up woman. More screwed up, anyway,” Katherine added, a wry grin lifting the corner of her mouth.

“What can I do to help?”

She nodded. “My family had a housekeeper in Dallas, and she had a little girl around my age. I can’t remember her exact age, five or six, but her name was Tracie. She was my best friend until I was sent away to boarding school. I never saw her after that. I often wondered what became of her. I even tried searching for her when I was working, but, oddly enough, I didn’t know her last name, so it was useless to continue my search. Fast forward. I have a Friendlink fan page; your granddaughter may know about it. People come and go. There is always a rush of new fans after a book is released, but I’m rambling.” She took a sip of wine. “I act as the moderator, but I also have an account set up for . . . I guess you could call it my alter ego. This alter ego is a teenager who visits the fan page daily.

“A young girl joined the fan page recently. She seemed eager to make a friend. I felt bad for her, and we chatted. I was trying to be nice. Some girls are downright mean; others remind me I’m glad I never had children. I gave the girl my phony email address, because she implied her dad was not the nicest man in the world. She said he hit her occasionally.

“She emailed, asking if I would help her. I responded by telling her I’d call the police, but then I began to wonder—if she could email my alter ego, why couldn’t she email the police, a teacher, or maybe a neighbor? So then I get another email. This one said, ‘I know who you are, selfish bitch,’ and another said, ‘Be careful Darby, he knows you.’ ”

“Darby’s the alter ego?” Doc asked.

Katherine nodded. “What doesn’t make sense is that two people are seemingly sending the emails from the same address. After the last email, I checked the girl’s online profile and saw she had added her last name and phone number. It matched the number she’d shared during a chat. My old reporter instinct kicked in, so I Googled her name. Her name is common, though spelled slightly unusually. I found an obituary for Tracie Denise Collins, survived by Karrie Lynn Collins of Dallas, Texas. Maybe I’m losing it, but I think this Tracie is—rather was—my friend. And now she’s dead.”

“I’m sorry, K. Though both are common enough names,” Doc said.

“I know, but here’s the kicker—the obit said Tracie was also survived by her mother, Audrey. That was Tracie’s mother’s name. So is this girl on my fan page in trouble? Should I reach out to the authorities with this information? Was her mom the little girl I knew when I was a kid? All of this seems way too far-fetched, but the strange messages make me wonder if this is just a teenager being a teenager, or if Karrie’s connection is legitimate. When I read that obit, I panicked.”

“What’s your gut tell you?”

Her instincts had once been excellent, fine-tuned as a violin. But after spending almost a decade alone, Katherine hadn’t any need to use her natural skills. “Nothing. That’s just it. I could be making more of this than necessary, or it’s possible Karrie is in real trouble. Though why reach out to a total stranger on a fan page? Or does she know my pseudonym? My real name. That’s what concerns me. Supposedly someone knows who I am and sends me those weird emails. I don’t know if I should take this girl seriously, call the police, or what. I needed to share this with someone who could advise me. I’m not sure what, if anything, I should do.”

“Could you contact your publisher and see if they’ve received any similar emails on that website you have? It’s probably nothing more than a prank. Some bored kids may have done some online research on their favorite author. If not, contact the authorities or her school. Does she list where she goes to school on your fan page?”

“No,” Katherine said. “Though I can email Gayle. She’s my editor. My publisher maintains the website. They’d tell me if anything was awry. I can ask if any similar emails have been sent to the website, though my identity is pretty secure. I don’t see how one could find me, or a connection to my past, as I’ve been extra careful not to reveal anything about myself personally or my pseudonym.”

“Good idea, though I don’t know how that works. You’ll want to stop whatever they hope to accomplish if it’s a kook. Some folks have bad intentions, K. You gotta watch out for them.”

She was very familiar with crazies with bad intentions. She almost let it slip that she’d been in Boston on the day of the bombings but caught herself. “It’s not as though I’m in the public eye,” she said. “I’m pretty sure no one around here other than you know what I do for a living. Any correspondence I receive from my publisher is by email. I don’t ask for copies of my books, as I have no need for them.”

“You’re quite the mystery, according to Bethany, my granddaughter.”

She smiled. So the granddaughter had a name. “You’ll have to keep me a secret, Doc.”

“Yep, just as I’ve been doing all these years, kiddo. I take my medical oath seriously, even as a vet. I respect my pet patient’s owner’s privacy, as well.”

“I know, and I am so grateful. I couldn’t deal with the publicity if the locals learned the weird mountain woman was K.C. Winston.”

“Stop that kind of talk. Who cares what people think?”

“Thanks, Doc. You’re one of the good guys,” she said.

He laughed. “Glad you think so.”

She finished her glass of wine. “It’s true. So what are your thoughts? Am I overreacting?”

He sighed and finished the last of his wine, shaking his head. “There’s not a physical threat, at least one you know of. Whoever is doing this wants to stir up trouble, maybe scare you a little. I’d leave it alone for now. Though I’d call that publisher of yours and tell them what’s happening.”

“You’re right. That makes sense,” Katherine said. “I’ll wait and see if this turns out, as you said, to just be some kook wanting to scare me.”

“I’m glad I could help. Now, I need to get home and get a bit of shut-eye. Four in the morning comes early when you’re my age.” He stood up and took his glass, placing it in the sink. Both dogs, lying on the throw rugs scattered about the kitchen, jumped up when they saw Doc stand.

“Sit,” Katherine said. The dogs sat, but she knew they were waiting for her to tell them to “go” so they could follow Doc out to his truck and romp about one last time before calling it a night.

“You need me, K, just call. It’s just me at the house,” Doc Baker said.

She wouldn’t have asked if he hadn’t spoken of it. But he had, and she was glad. “Doc, are you alone? You know, alone as in single? Widowed?”

“And why would a pretty gal like you want to know?” he asked, his eyes alight with humor.

“Because we’ve never discussed your . . . personal life. I know it’s none of my business. Sorry to be so nosy.”

“I’m divorced, more than ten years. The happiest day of my life.”

Katherine couldn’t help but laugh. “Good. I mean, not good that you’re divorced, good that you’re happy.”

“We’re still friends and should have stayed that way. But then I wouldn’t have Stephanie, my daughter, Bethany’s mom. So that pretty much sums up my life.”

“Thanks for sharing that. I often wondered but didn’t want to pry.”

“Steph is probably about your age. She’s thirty-six. Teaches high school in town. Great kid.”

“Then she must take after her father. I’m thirty-seven, so yes, we’re close in age.” Katherine thought of the obituary. Tracie would’ve been thirty-six had she lived. She’d died two years ago. Poor Karrie. If it was all true, she sympathized with her.

“Okay, I gotta scoot. You know my number, K.” Doc gave a half wave and left through the open doors, with Sam and Sophie waiting impatiently to follow.

“Go on,” Katherine said to the dogs. She stood in the doorway, the cool air refreshing. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to leave the doors open. Autumn days could get chilly in the mountains, and the nights were downright cold.

Back in the kitchen, she rinsed out the wineglasses and returned the bottle of wine to the refrigerator, reminding herself to take the phones and other items she’d purchased out of the pantry. Katherine removed one of the phones from its heavy plastic wrap and read the instructions while waiting for the dogs to come back inside. She jotted down the phone number and charged the phone with the cord provided. If she felt she needed to contact the authorities or Karrie herself, she’d now have a phone with a number that didn’t have a North Carolina area code.

Katherine heard Sam and Sophie bolt through the door, their nails clicking on the wood floor. They would always go straight to the kitchen for their nightly treat. “Sit,” she said, then handed each a beef stick.

Leaving them to chow down, she locked the doors, returning to the kitchen to ensure the alarm was on. If they had another visit from a wild animal tonight, the alarm would activate and catch it on the surveillance cameras.

Once upstairs, she showered and went through her usual nightly routine. When the dogs were settled on the bed, she slid beneath the sheets, fluffed the pillows behind her, then booted up her laptop. She logged onto the fan page, hoping to catch Karrie online.

Bigfan216: Hi!

Blondebookbabe: What’s going on?

Bigfan216: Just finished homework! Ugh!

Blondebookbabe: I did mine in detention today!!!

Bigfan216: LOL, what’d you do?

Blondebookbabe: Told my science teacher to F off!

Katherine could not believe the language these girls used and seemed so comfortable with, even though she’d seen them use profanity regularly.

Bigfan216: Cool! Anybody else been online?

Blondebookbabe: Not yet, Lola is out with her parents. Who knows about the others?

Katherine remembered Lola’s handle was HotandCool . She was so vain, but maybe she was hot and cool.

Bigfan216: You know her?

Blondebookbabe: Kinda.

Bigfan216: How’s that?

Blondebookbabe: Groupie fans. Katy Perry, Taylor Swift. One Direction.

Bigfan216: They ever join the chats?

Blondebookbabe: Nope!

Katherine could see this conversation was going nowhere. Karrie wasn’t online, so she decided she’d sign off.

Bigfan216: I’m gonna chill with a book! TTYL!

She clicked out of the page and went to her alter-ego email account. There was an email from Karrie waiting.

From: klc#[email protected] To: [email protected] Darby,

Are you able to use your dad’s phone? Please call me. It’s a matter of life and death.

Karrie

To: klc#[email protected] From: [email protected] I don’t believe you. Darby

Katherine decided Karrie was a little drama queen. Life and death? She seriously doubted it. If this were a life-and-death situation, wouldn’t she call, email, or text someone she actually knew? A person close by that could help her. She should take Doc’s advice. Karrie was most likely a little on the kooky side, looking for attention. Her email pinged.

To: [email protected] From: klc#[email protected] Darby, Please, believe me. Just call. Karrie

Should she call this girl just to put the matter to rest? Nothing Karrie said made sense, though she could ask if Tracie was her mother and Audrey her grandmother. She didn’t see any harm in that. Hurrying downstairs, Katherine found the disposable cell phone, then went back upstairs.

Both dogs were sound asleep at the foot of the bed. She used her moderator handle to log onto the fan page and skimmed through their chats, searching for Karrie’s number. She typed out the number in her Notes app on her cell phone, then clicked out of Friendlink.

Before she called Karrie, she would send Gayle an email. Better yet, she’d text her, knowing Gayle always had her cell phone with her. Quickly explaining the situation in as few words as possible, she sent the text. Katherine saw the gray dots, indicating Gayle was writing back to her.

Nothing out of the ordinary here , was her response. Katherine was relieved these emails were narrowed down now to just Karrie. She knew there were ways to track an internet provider’s address and locate the server, but she didn’t have that skill. She fired off another email.

To: klc#[email protected] From: [email protected] Karrie, If you’re in danger, can’t you dial 911??? Darby

She would wait and see if Karrie answered, then decide if she should call her. A few minutes later, her email pinged again.

To: [email protected] From: klc#[email protected] Darby, No, I can’t. It would cause more trouble for me. Just call! Karrie

Though Katherine had no children of her own and hadn’t been around that many, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of responsibility toward Karrie. A phone call couldn’t hurt. Maybe she could put this to rest once and for all. Before she changed her mind, she dialed the number Karrie had given her.

“Darby, is this you?” Karrie asked, her voice not more than a whisper. Katherine could detect a deep Southern accent, one similar to hers.

“Yes,” Katherine said, trying to disguise her voice.

“Listen, I can’t talk long. My dad is raging. I found this notebook.” She lowered her voice even further. “They’re about our favorite author. Dad keeps saying he’s going to ruin whoever K.C. Winston is. I don’t know how he got the notebook, but it’s like the first book. He says he wrote it, and someone stole it from him. I thought you could help me figure this out.”

“Okay,” Katherine said, as her heart began to race.

“You know a lot about the books,” Karrie said, “and you were nice to me when I joined the fan page.”

Katherine wasn’t sure how to react, so she asked, “What kind of notebook? Like a journal or something?” She hoped she sounded like a sixteen-year-old, but her thoughts were those of the adult woman she really was.

“No! I swear this spiral is like the first book in the series! I don’t believe Dad wrote it like he said. He’s been acting weird since my grandmother came to visit.”

Was Audrey her grandmother? Should she risk revealing her true identity and ask Karrie?

“Weird, like how?” Doing her best to sound sixteen, Katherine used the word like as they seemed to do, even though it annoyed the hell out of her.

“I found the notebook while I was looking for one of Mom’s sweaters. It was stuffed in a bag in the back of the closet.”

Katherine had all of her notebooks. There was no way Karrie’s dad could have one of her old notebooks. It was impossible.

“Could he, like, have copied them or something?” she asked in her Darby voice.

“I never thought of that. It wasn’t his handwriting, but he might’ve. I guess he could’ve disguised his handwriting, though I’m not sure why he’d do that.”

Neither was she. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Karrie really could be Tracie’s daughter.

“So what is it you want me to do?” Katherine asked.

“I don’t know. I just needed to tell someone.”

“You want to keep this secret just between us?”

“Yes, the other girls would laugh at me,” Karrie said.

“I’ll keep it a secret. Listen, I gotta go. My dad needs his phone back. Talk later.” Katherine ended the call.

Taking a deep breath, then releasing it slowly, Katherine’s gut instinct kicked in. She needed to find out who Karrie’s father was . . . before he found her.