He felt the escalation at work. A hard bump of a shoulder as someone walked past him. Glares, sneers. He found a couple of ugly drawings and block-printed threats in his mail cubby at work.
Thursday, he checked his cubby warily, pulling out what looked like a flier printed on copy paper. He unfolded it and froze. Fury and near-panic pumped through him.
What he held in his hand was a photograph that had been blown up and printed. Clear as could be, Tess, smiling a welcome, was holding her front door open to let him into her house. His head was turned enough that his face, seen in profile, was recognizable. The crosshairs of two gun sights had been drawn in by hand, one targeting his temple, the other the center of Tess’s forehead.
His hands trembled as he folded the piece of paper again. He debated skipping Sergeant Perez and going straight to the top, but had just enough self-control to handle this the way he should.
At the rap on the door Perez called, “Come in.” Animosity must be leaking from Zach, because the sergeant let out a long breath and sat back in his chair. “Now what?”
Zach let the piece of paper flutter to the desk blotter. He did not take a seat. He wasn’t sure if he was capable of sitting still.
Perez unfolded the paper and looked at the photograph in silence. His eyes were black with anger when he lifted his head. “How’d it get to you?”
Zach told him.
“Don’t suppose there’s any chance of fingerprints, but whoever he was might have been careless. Say, when he put the paper in the printer?” He produced a file folder from a drawer and gently enclosed the newest and best threat.
“What do you intend to do about this?” Zach hoped he sounded more civil than he felt.
“I’ll take it to Stokes and, if necessary, Sheriff Brown. They need to put out the word that this is unacceptable and anyone caught pulling this shit will be fired on the spot. As leaders of this department, they have to understand that they set the tone.”
“Oh, I think they understand. We both know they are setting the tone around here.”
“Not Paul.”
“No?” Zach’s teeth were clenched so hard, it wasn’t easy to loosen his jaw enough to speak. “Then Stokes is not trying very hard to convince his boss that his stance is going to backfire. If this keeps up, he can kiss that election goodbye.”
Perez’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll see to it personally?”
“If anything happens to Tess—” His throat closed. “These bastards are going down.”
“Watch yourself, Carter. You’ll regret it if you lower yourself to this level.” He nodded at the photograph.
“I haven’t started sending anonymous notes yet. But my temper is getting a little shaky.”
“I hear you. Now get out on the road. Don’t let this rattle you so you can’t do your job.”
“I’ll do my job.” His jaw flexed. “I’ll leave you to do yours.”
By the time he reached his assigned patrol car, he realized he was damn lucky Perez hadn’t called him on insubordination. He must have seen that Zach was vibrating with rage, and understood.
Gripping the steering wheel, he thought, Tess. He couldn’t let her be hurt or killed. The memory of Sheila’s naked body, legs sprawled, head twisted horribly to one side, had never left him. What he’d seen in that first horrified moment hadn’t softened or blurred in the least with the passing of the years. There’d been an instant of disbelief—that was a doll, not really his sister. The eyes were too blank, the skin too waxy. What would Sheila be doing out here before Mom and Dad had gotten up? And then his stomach had heaved and he’d begun yelling.
What if he found Tess...? Hunching his shoulders, he shook his head. No. It wasn’t happening.
He’d survived the loss of his sister, although he knew it had shaped his life more than he probably let himself recognize. But if Tess, a woman he hadn’t even met six weeks ago, was killed, too? If he failed to keep her safe—found her body or even saw it happen...?
A raw, inarticulate sound escaped him.
She had touched him as no one else ever had. He loved his mother, had kept loving his father and Bran, he guessed, but with reservations. He hadn’t wanted to ever feel this way about anyone, but he hadn’t had any say in it, and now it was too late.