Page 37 of Trace of Doubt
“I could leave Valleysburg, change my name.”
“Leaving won’t change a thing.”
“All right. Just give me a little time to—”
The caller clicked off.
I laid my phone on the counter and clenched my fists against my legs. What should I do?
The sheriff scratched his head. “Shelby, this isn’t going away.”
“Why does suicide mean more to my stalker than killing me and not leaving any evidence?”
“The caller is certain you have vital information of some kind. And while the person doesn’t have a problem hurting others, they, and I think it’s more than one person, draw the line when it comes to killing you.”
“No blood on their hands,” I whispered.
“And I think you know who it is.”
I stared at him, and a name flashed across my mind. I shook away the thought.
The sheriff glanced at his watch. “I need to go. Someone’s watching the cabin. Do I have permission to run your phone records?” When I agreed, he continued. “I suggest picking up a burner phone as soon as possible. Use it to contact me and those who might get hurt.”
“And you can trace it?”
“Technology offers law enforcement the means to investigate what formerly looked impossible. We can also run the voice through our database. If the person is in our system, we are good to go.”
I wouldn’t be able to talk to Edie until I bought a new phone. We’d enjoyed texts and calls, and I wasn’t ready to let go of our friendship. Although my reasoning was selfish.
Sheriff Wendall walked to the door. “Is there anything here in the cabin or stashed on the property that could be used against you or is of value to someone else?”
“Nothing.”
“I want to be informed of everything, no matter how insignificant it seems. But not on this phone.”
“Yes, sir.” Fear rattled my bones. Intuition told me if I left Valleysburg, the problems would stalk me. Staying here threatened those whom I’d grown to cherish, but according to the threats, I was running short on time. At what point would the caller run out of patience?
A plan swept through my mind...
24
After Sheriff Wendall left, weariness settled around me, and hopelessness invited my old enemy called despair to come calling. The person or persons urging me to commit suicide had to stop before depression sent me spiraling. How could I react in a way that would take the satisfaction out of the stalker’s game? An idea from earlier in the evening made more sense. The details would take time...
Someone pounded on my door. I froze, and a thousand scenarios bombarded my mind.
“Shelby, it’s Denton. Can we talk?”
I made my way to the door and leaned my head against it. “Please, I’ve had enough for one day. Just leave me alone.”
“I get it. I’m a jerk. Don’t blame you at all. Except I’m asking if you will hear me out. Have I been wrong all these years?”
“Ya think?” But a chilling fear left me pondering if his revelation focused on the money, Travis’s murder, or another ploy.
“I won’t stay long.”
“Denton, I’m tired, furious, and my shift starts at 5:45 in the morning.”
“Ten minutes, please. The truth is, I’ve been involved with this mess almost as long as you have, and in a week’s time, you’ve shaken my convictions. Yes, I lied to you, but I haven’t sent you threatening calls.”
