Stalked In Conard County. Rachel Lee

her.”

      “Maybe I will.”

      They reached the spot beneath the window and Kelly studied the scuffed dirt. It was easy to tell that someone had stood there, but no print was really clear, Roger thought now.

      “Well, that’s not helpful,” Kelly remarked. “Okay, you go back inside with Haley. Bugle and I are about to take a walk and see what we can learn. Bugle, seek.”

      That dog, Roger had thought more than once, understood a great deal. Without further direction, Bugle sniffed around the scuffed area then headed toward the alley behind the house. Kelly followed.

      “I’ll let you both know if I find anything.”

      “Thanks.”

      Back inside, he found Haley still sitting at the table with cooling coffee in front of her. Except now she looked frozen, her gaze almost hollow, haunted.

      He was a man who liked to fix things, but this was something that didn’t appear to be easily fixable. Whatever was going on inside that woman was clearly above his pay grade. He sat again so that he’d be at her eye level, even though his whole body wanted action right now.

      “Kelly and Bugle are following a scent. She’ll let us know if she finds anything.”

      Haley gave a brief, jerky nod.

      “Haley? Are you feeling ill? Do you want to go see a doctor?”

      In an instant her eyes lost the hollow look and began to spark blue fire. “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m not sick. But some jerk woke me up last night and opened a box of memories I’d safely put away under lock and key for almost twenty-five years.”

      He hesitated, waiting, giving her a chance to continue. Then, wondering if he was prying, he asked the question boldly. “Your kidnapping?”

      “Yes.” She snapped the word.

      He nodded and leaned back, half deciding to just shut his mouth. She doubtless didn’t want to be poked and pried at. Remembering was probably bad enough. But people didn’t really forget things, no matter how deeply they buried them. What if she needed an ear right now?

      “I never heard much about it,” he said “I was too young, nobody said anything to me, and I just picked up that it had happened. But it was over quickly, right?”

      Something in her posture eased. Her face and tone quieted a bit. “That didn’t make it much better.”

      “I don’t imagine it would. I can’t conceive of anything more terrifying, no matter how long it lasted.”

      “It wasn’t just the terror,” she said slowly. Then she seemed to shake herself. “It’s in the past,” she said as if reminding herself.

      “Maybe not far enough in the past,” he remarked, keeping his tone pleasant. “You want more coffee? Are you ready to switch to Flora’s tea? Or how about a bottle of water?”

      She smiled faintly. “Determined to take care of me, huh?”

      “Not much I can do except play waiter and listen.” He shrugged. “You can also tell me to butt out. I’ve even been known to pay attention.”

      Now her smile widened and he was relieved to see that she seemed to be shaking off whatever nightmare had haunted her. “No need to butt out. You’ve been kind, but you must want to get to work.”

      Was that a dismissal? He decided not. “No rush. The nice thing about being my own boss is that if I need a few hours for something else, I can take them.”

      Just then there was a knock on the door and Kelly entered with Bugle. “Dead end,” she said. “Bugle tracked him to Ash Street and then the scent vanished. Guess he drives to his little trysts. Anyway, if Bugle smells him again anywhere, he’ll let me know. Listen, Haley, I’m going to file a report. If we’ve got a peeper, you might not be the last victim. These guys seem to like to bother more than one person.”

      “I hope he doesn’t bother me again. Thank you, Deputy.”

      “Kelly. Just Kelly. Come on, Bugle.”

      Then, in the subsequent silence, Roger took the bull by the horns. “So what did you mean when you said calling the police would make it real?”

       Chapter 2

      “I was talking about my reaction,” she said after several minutes. “At first it seemed like a bad dream, but then it raked up old memories. It was a childish thing to say, Roger. It happened. Reporting it has nothing to do with its reality.”

      She pushed back from the table and went to the refrigerator, where she pulled out a bottle of water. “Want some?”

      “I’m fine, thanks.”

      She sat again, unscrewing the bottle cap. “I remember the tap water here being very tasty, but I’ve been chicken to try it. I suppose I should.”

      “It’s good water,” he agreed. “Better than some of the stuff in bottles.”

      Again she smiled. “I remember way back when, when we were both kids. You were infinitely patient then, too. Remember the fishing expedition?”

      He laughed. “How could I forget? I got you all excited about going to my favorite fishing hole and when we got there it was nothing but mud.”

      “And I wanted to know where the fish had gone since there was no water left.”

      He laughed again. “They had the sense to get out of Dodge.”

      “I guess. You must have been as disappointed as I was, but that didn’t stop you. We drove up a little way into the mountains and you found us a small pool. What’s more, I caught my first fish!”

      At least this memory was making her smile. He was glad to see it. In terms of time, her kidnapping seemed like a lifetime ago, at least to him. Apparently not so much to her.

      Then she sighed and her smile faded. “I know it was a long time ago,” she said, almost as if she could read his mind. “I don’t think about the kidnapping often anymore. My dad made sure I had therapy afterward, and I got over it. Mostly. But once in a while…” She trailed off and sighed again, as if some heavy weight filled her. “Once in a while… Like last night. It dragged everything up from the depths. I was kidnapped through my bedroom window, you know.”

      His heart lurched. God, last night must have been Halloween-like for her. “I didn’t know.”

      “I guess that’s why I overreacted.”

      He shook his head. “Waking up to find someone looking in your bedroom window? Well, I don’t think you can overreact.”

      “Maybe not.” She shook her head a little, as if trying to shake off bad memories. “I’m wondering if I should sleep upstairs now. I wanted to use that room because I’d shared it with my grandma on the few occasions I came to visit here. When I was really young, before you and I met, it was such a treat to crawl into her bed and have her tease me with riddles until I fell asleep.”

      “And you wanted to recapture that?”

      “Can you ever? But, yeah, good memories. And maybe I should just sleep upstairs, where no one can peek in the windows and I can leave the curtains open and enjoy the fresh night air.”

      There was a sadness to that. Maybe time to change the subject? “You can decide that later. Frankly, you look like you need a nap, but I guess you had plans for today?”

      “I did, sort of. I’m sure I need a nap, but I’m too wound up. Anyway, I was going to go through some more of my grandmother’s things. Looking for keepsakes and so on. But then…” She hesitated. “I came here convinced I was going back to Baltimore