Page 5 of Unexpected Danger (Mountain Justice #2)

“I have.”

“Mr. Nuss’s phone number didn’t match the one the texts originated from. However, burner phones are always an option. Do you have a deadbolt on your apartment door?”

“I do. It’s a press-to-lock keypad door lock with an automatic deadbolt.”

Detective Rivas nodded. “Good. In the event that this person does contact you again, you will need to keep a log of the texts. You can also screenshot them. While we’re hoping this is the end of it, if it’s not, keep detailed records.”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice shook.

“As far as keeping yourself as safe as possible, park in well-lit areas, always carry your phone, be situationally aware, and trust your gut. Attempt to go places with someone else rather than by yourself and alternate your routine if possible. Call us immediately if you see or hear from him again.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Detective Rivas stood and shook her hand. “Stay safe, Ms. Siegler, and don’t hesitate to contact me if necessary.” He handed her a business card.

She stumbled from his office, her mind in a haze. What would happen next? Would Mr. Nuss—or whoever it was—return? How long would this continue? She prayed that the detective’s visit to the disgruntled client would cause the situation to cease.

Londyn struggled through the remainder of the afternoon, keeping her mind on work. When she entered the office, Jasmine, whose cubicle was directly across from Londyn’s, rose and met Londyn at the coffee pot.

“How did it go?”

Dustin sauntered over from his cubicle bordering Londyn’s and joined in the conversation.

“Detective Rivas asked me some questions and mentioned he paid BJ Nuss a visit.”

Jasmine jutted out her hip and planted her hand on it. “And what did Mr. Nuss have to say?”

“He denied it, although he lacked an alibi.”

Dustin refilled his mug. “Don’t they always deny it?”

Londyn released a mirthless laugh. “True. The thing that bothers me is that I wasn’t paying closer attention to his appearance—if it even was a ‘him’.”

“You’re not sure it was a guy?” asked Jasmine.

“I’m fairly sure, but it could have been a skinny woman. With the hoodie and mask, it concealed all but the person’s eyes.”

“Don’t feel bad about not knowing a lot about the person’s appearance. I read somewhere that eyewitness accuracy can be lacking at best.”

“I should have paid closer attention so I would know if it was BJ Nuss.”

Jasmine drained the coffee in her mug. “BJ Nuss should admit to being the one if it was him.”

“And get himself in trouble? Not likely. The guy sounds like a real winner.” Dustin set his mug on the coffee cart and cracked his knuckles.

“Thank you for all of your support.” Londyn had found strong friendships in Jasmine and Dustin. Something she’d missed since moving from Pronghorn Falls.

Jasmine wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “What are friends for?”

At five o’clock, Dustin escorted Londyn to her SUV in the parking garage. After an uneventful drive home, she changed into a comfortable t-shirt and shorts. Londyn perched on the edge of her bed and opened her Bible to her favorite verse, then prayed.

“Lord, please grant me the peace I so desperately need. Let this all be nothing but someone inadvertently texting the wrong person and a random, homeless drunk attempting to get inside. I pray You would keep me safe. And, Lord, please keep the Brenneman family safe. Please let Brodie forgive me, and if it is Your will, please let us someday reconcile. I miss his friendship. Thank You, Father, for Your faithfulness and for watching over me all these years. In Jesus’ Name, Amen. ”

She put her Bible back on her nightstand and strode into the kitchen to make dinner. Chicken noodle soup, always a comfort food, sounded good on this dreary day.

The three-frame picture collection on the shelf in the living room caught her eye.

One was of her and Brodie at the prom. She wore a beautiful purple dress, and he wore a white tux.

They’d eaten at a fast-food restaurant, joining with other friends to take a step outside the ordinary.

Londyn and Brodie had gone as friends, of course, and visited the local park after dinner and before heading to the prom.

It was that event that Brodie had attempted to duplicate the night he’d proposed.

Both times, they’d hopped on the swings, pumped their legs, and leaped out of the swings just as they had when they were younger. She was glad she could still land on her feet over ten years later.

Then they’d climbed onto the old metal merry-go-round. It was a vintage, iconic piece that brought back memories of elementary school. Both times, they’d stepped off, dizzy, staggering, and stumbling to the park bench.

That night, Brodie’s hope to recapture the night at the prom had distracted her from Mom’s recent choice.

Until Londyn had ruined the evening.

Regret crept into her soul, and she instead peered at the middle picture of her and Brodie’s family at Christmas Eve services at church the year before Mr. Brenneman died at the hands of a drunk driver, and Danny died in a car wreck while moving back to Pronghorn Falls.

Everyone was smiling. Happy. Not a care in the world.

The final picture was of her and Brodie hiking up Pronghorn Peak.

With their trekking poles, backpacks, and matching ball caps, the selfie reminded her of not only the accomplishment of enduring steep terrain and harsh weather on the hike back, but of a time when Brodie’s friendship was paramount in her life. They started dating soon after.

Londyn replaced the picture, grabbed a can of soup from the cupboard, and emptied it into a pan.

She was stirring the soup over the stove when her cell phone rang, causing her to jump.

Londyn didn’t recognize the number, so she allowed it to go to voicemail. Within seconds, the ping of a message sounded.

She punched in her password, and the message played.

A message consisting of only breathing.

Londyn instantly set the phone on the counter and walked to the front window. Outside, a few vehicles rumbled by, but there was no man in a hoodie across the street—or even more thankfully—at her door.

Perhaps it was just a wrong number.

She turned off the stove and poured the soup into a bowl when a text notification alerted her.

Londyn clicked on the text icon and scrutinized the words written in all caps:

I SEE YOU.

The phone rang again, and without thinking, she answered it.

“Hello?”

No answer.

“Who is this?”

“I see you.”

The distorted voice produced a profound unease. She dropped her phone on the counter as though it were a hot potato and took a step back.

“Who are you?” she repeated to the empty room. “Why are you doing this?”

Londyn rushed again to the front door and each window.

Nothing and no one unusual was outside.

Another notification. She dared a peek at the text.

THAT SHIRT GOES WELL WITH YOUR EYES.

She clutched her arms with icy fingers as the fear seized her. The heavy pounding of her own heartbeat thundered in her ears. With trembling hands, she retrieved her phone.

The number that both texted and called her was unknown to her. She hit the block button. How many burner phones did this guy have?

If anyone could offer her some advice on this crazy stalker, it would be Brodie. Although he’d probably immediately drive to Rowland and offer to find the guy and arrest him himself if jurisdictional laws allowed it.

But calling him wasn’t only awkward, it was potentially out of line. How could she not speak to him for months, and then all of a sudden call out of the blue just because she needed help? Sounded like something her mom would do.

As soon as she had dialed the familiar number, she hung up, hoping it hadn’t registered as a call.

She documented the disturbing call and texts, then sat at the table, prayed for her meal, and swirled the liquid around in the mug, having lost her appetite.

If her stalker’s desire was to frighten her, he’d succeeded.