Low Pressure

She passed a copy of Low Pressure to the one who hadn’t recognized her. “It’s a murder mystery. Fact based. The victim was my sister. Her underpants became a key element of the investigation.”

“Any idea what was meant by the warning?”

“Isn’t the meaning obvious?” Dent said impatiently. “She’s in danger from this guy.”

Neither officer acknowledged his remark, but one of them asked Bellamy if she’d received similar threats or warnings. She told them about the rat and the break-in of her car.

“Did you report these incidents?”

“No. They were dissimilar. Different states. I thought they were random. But after this, I believe they could all be related, and the common denominator is my book.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Timing, for one thing. Nothing like this happened to me before the book was published. Besides, I can’t think of anything I’ve done to elicit this kind of malice.”

After a considerable pause, and another glance toward Dent, one of them said, “Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with your book. Could someone in your personal life bear you a grudge? An ex-husband? A boyfriend you’ve recently broken off with? Anybody like that?”

Dent was interested to know the answers to those questions himself.

“My ex lives in Dallas,” Bellamy told them. “Our divorce was amicable. He’s remarried. I just moved here from New York. I haven’t been seeing anyone.”

“What about up there?”

“No. Only in the most platonic sense.”

The two exchanged another look and seemed to agree that they had covered everything. “We’ll put your house on a drive-by list. Our patrols will keep a close eye on it. Call us immediately if anything, even the smallest thing, happens.”

“Thank you, I will.”

“You should look into getting an alarm system installed.”

Bellamy told them she would do that, then got up to walk them out. As the officers went past Dent, they tipped their hats, but their expressions didn’t leave him with a warm fuzzy. They left with a promise to report back to Bellamy if their investigation led to an arrest.

“Hell will freeze over first,” Dent said after she closed the door behind them. “But at least there’s a police record of the break-in, and they might’ve lifted his prints. Considering the mess they made, I hope something comes of it.”

He ran his finger through the smudge that had been left on the newel post, then wiped it on the leg of his jeans. “The deputy also dusted my airplane. If this piece of shit is ever arrested, they’ll be able to connect him to both crimes and maybe even to the delivered rat.”

“Maybe we should have told them about your airplane.”

“And get into all that history?” He shook his head.

“I didn’t want to, either.”

“Let them nail a suspect first. Then we can connect the remaining dots for them.”

She folded her arms across her middle and hugged her elbows as she looked up the stairwell in the direction of her bedroom. “I was really coming to like this house. Now it’s been tainted.”

“It’ll clean up. But what about your landlord? Should you notify him?”

“He’s absentee.”

“Out of town?”

“Afghanistan. When he was deployed, his wife went to stay with her folks in Arizona. I leased for a year. I see no need to worry them. I’ll cover the charges.”

He took a business card from his shirt pocket. “The locksmith’s brother-in-law does make-ready cleaning on houses and apartments. Painting included. For a fair pric

e and a signed copy of your book, he’ll have the house looking like new. And I was told that for next to nothing he’ll install an alarm system.”