Page 32 of High Country Escape

“What about the doll?” he asked. “What’s the significance of that?”

She closed her eyes briefly, the image of that horrible doll imprinted there like a scene from a horror movie. She opened them again and met Shane’s direct gaze. He had blue eyes, and a boyish face, though there was nothing boyish about the way he looked at her now—all serious intensity. “William Ledger gave me a doll like that when I was with him,” she said.

“Did it have the makeup like that?” Shane asked.

“Yes. It’s a cheap knockoff of those collector dolls with the historical costumes and books and accessories and stuff. Ledger gave it to me when I had been with him about a month. He...he said it was a reward because I’d been so good.” She looked down at her hands, knotted in her lap. “I was terrified of it. At night I would put it in a corner and pile blankets over it so I didn’t haveto look at it.” And so the doll couldn’t see her. Her ten-year-old mind had been sure something evil looked out of that doll’s eyes.

“Do you think this is the same doll or just a similar one?” Shane asked.

His question pulled her back to the present, out of the pit of the nightmare past. “I don’t see how it could be the same,” she said. “I’m sure the one he gave me was taken as evidence after Ledger was arrested. I never saw it again.”

“Who else knew about the doll—besides Ledger?”

“The police knew. And Alice.”

“Alice was the other girl he kidnapped?” Shane had pulled out a notebook and was scribbling furiously in it.

“That’s right.”

“Where is Alice now?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you know if the doll was ever written about in the papers or mentioned at Ledger’s trial?”

“I don’t know. I was a witness, so I wasn’t there for the whole trial. But no one ever asked me about it.”

Shane nodded. “Did you recognize the handwriting on the note?”

“No. But I never saw Ledger’s handwriting.”

“Okay.” Shane tucked the notebook away once more. “Whether this was done by William Ledger or someone else, I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here,” he said.

“No,” she said. “I’m not going to stay here.” The thought of going back inside and seeing that doll again made her shudder.

“Do you have somewhere you can go?” Shane asked. “We can try to find a bed in a women’s shelter for you.”

“I know a place she can stay,” Dalton said.

She turned to look at him. Was he suggesting she stay with him? “That’s sweet of you to offer—” she began.

“You can stay with my parents,” he said. “None of us kids live at home anymore, so they’ve got plenty of room.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose...” she said, hesitating.

He moved around to sit beside her on the bench. “You met my mom,” he said. “She loves taking care of people. And it would be a lot better than a shelter.”

It would be much better than a shelter. Walking into the Ameses’ house had been like being wrapped in a warm hug. She looked at Shane. “Would that be all right, if I stayed with the Ameses?”

“It should be. I’ll let the sheriff know, but don’t tell anyone else you don’t have to.”

“You don’t think I’d be putting them in danger, do you?” Nausea swamped her at the thought. “Maybe I should go to the shelter.”

“Has anyone around you been threatened or menaced?” Shane asked.

“No. Not that I know of.” But she could have told him she didn’t have any people around her. She knew almost no one in town—except Dalton and his family, Debra Percy, her neighbor Kara, and May the barista and a few others she had met casually.

“You should be fine,” Shane said. “Let us know if you see or hear anything suspicious.”