I said. “Let me call
Sheriff Croft.”
“Fine. If you need me, I’ll be inside warming
up.” Greg put away his phone, stared off
into the gloom outside the light’s reach, and then he asked, “You don’t suppose
whoever did this is still out there, do you?”
“Don’t worry, they are bound to
be long gone. After all, why deliver a
warning and then stick around to see that we get it? If they’d wanted to hurt me, they wouldn’t
have alerted me first, now would they?”
“Maybe so, but I’m staying right
here with you until the police show up,” Greg said.
“I thought you were cold.”
“What do you know? I suddenly warmed up,” he said, and I knew
that I couldn’t dissuade him from staying with me.
“Sheriff, it’s Victoria. Do you have a second?”
“I’ve got a quite a few. One of my deputies is off tonight, and I’m
filling in for her. What can I do for
you?”
“I just thought you might like to
see this. Somebody used what looks like
a bloody ice pick to pin a warning onto my door.”
“Where are you, at the
café?” The casual nature of our
conversation was gone in an instant.
“No, Greg and I are at home. Should I take it down, or would you like to
see it for yourself first?”
“Don’t touch a thing, I’ll be
there in a few minutes.”
After he hung up, I turned to
Greg. “He’s on his way over.”
“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we wait for him inside?” Greg
asked.
“Okay, but I need to do something
first.”
“You’re not taking that note down
after warning me not to, are you?”
“No, but I’m going to get a few
pictures of it while I still can,” I said. “Who knows? It might come in
handy later.”
“Should I get your camera?” Greg
asked as he started for the door.
“Yes, but I’ll go ahead and get
started with the camera on my phone.” My
husband hesitated at the door, and I added, “It’s on the kitchen counter. You won’t be gone thirty seconds.”
“Don’t do anything crazy while
I’m gone.”
“Even I can’t get in trouble that
fast,” I said.
Greg was back in twenty seconds
though, just in case.
I’d managed to get four good
shots with my phone in the meantime, so I switched over to my real camera when
he came back out. “How’d you manage to
grab a jacket, too? You didn’t have
enough time.”
“It was on the couch. I meant to wear it today, but I changed my
mind at the last second.” He shuddered a
little. “That really is a nasty little
note, isn’t it?”
“It doesn’t really surprise
me. Whoever did it clearly has a
fondness for the dramatic, wouldn’t you say? After all, it’s not something just anyone would think to do.”
“So, do you think that it’s
somebody from the play?”
“Either that,” I said, “or
someone is trying to make it look that way.”
“Then, it doesn’t really do you
much good, does it?”
I finished taking one more shot
as I saw headlights heading toward us. Unless I missed my guess, that would be the sheriff. I took one last photograph, and then I tucked
my camera into my pocket. There was no
use advertising the fact that I’d fully documented the threat before the
sheriff showed up to do his own investigation.
He got out of the cruiser and
walked toward us with real purpose. “I
don’t suppose you saw who did this, did you?”
“We were at Moose and Martha’s
place,” I said, deciding not to mention that we’d been at the theater before
that.
The sheriff nodded, and then he
took a few photographs of his own, though not nearly as many as I had. He talked softly as he worked, whether to us
or to himself, I wasn’t sure. “Just
paint,” he said, and then he added, “Block letters, and the paper’s common
enough, too.”
After Sheriff Croft was satisfied
with the record, he donned a pair of gloves and carefully removed the ice pick,
working it free and catching the
Sheriff Croft.”
“Fine. If you need me, I’ll be inside warming
up.” Greg put away his phone, stared off
into the gloom outside the light’s reach, and then he asked, “You don’t suppose
whoever did this is still out there, do you?”
“Don’t worry, they are bound to
be long gone. After all, why deliver a
warning and then stick around to see that we get it? If they’d wanted to hurt me, they wouldn’t
have alerted me first, now would they?”
“Maybe so, but I’m staying right
here with you until the police show up,” Greg said.
“I thought you were cold.”
“What do you know? I suddenly warmed up,” he said, and I knew
that I couldn’t dissuade him from staying with me.
“Sheriff, it’s Victoria. Do you have a second?”
“I’ve got a quite a few. One of my deputies is off tonight, and I’m
filling in for her. What can I do for
you?”
“I just thought you might like to
see this. Somebody used what looks like
a bloody ice pick to pin a warning onto my door.”
“Where are you, at the
café?” The casual nature of our
conversation was gone in an instant.
“No, Greg and I are at home. Should I take it down, or would you like to
see it for yourself first?”
“Don’t touch a thing, I’ll be
there in a few minutes.”
After he hung up, I turned to
Greg. “He’s on his way over.”
“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we wait for him inside?” Greg
asked.
“Okay, but I need to do something
first.”
“You’re not taking that note down
after warning me not to, are you?”
“No, but I’m going to get a few
pictures of it while I still can,” I said. “Who knows? It might come in
handy later.”
“Should I get your camera?” Greg
asked as he started for the door.
“Yes, but I’ll go ahead and get
started with the camera on my phone.” My
husband hesitated at the door, and I added, “It’s on the kitchen counter. You won’t be gone thirty seconds.”
“Don’t do anything crazy while
I’m gone.”
“Even I can’t get in trouble that
fast,” I said.
Greg was back in twenty seconds
though, just in case.
I’d managed to get four good
shots with my phone in the meantime, so I switched over to my real camera when
he came back out. “How’d you manage to
grab a jacket, too? You didn’t have
enough time.”
“It was on the couch. I meant to wear it today, but I changed my
mind at the last second.” He shuddered a
little. “That really is a nasty little
note, isn’t it?”
“It doesn’t really surprise
me. Whoever did it clearly has a
fondness for the dramatic, wouldn’t you say? After all, it’s not something just anyone would think to do.”
“So, do you think that it’s
somebody from the play?”
“Either that,” I said, “or
someone is trying to make it look that way.”
“Then, it doesn’t really do you
much good, does it?”
I finished taking one more shot
as I saw headlights heading toward us. Unless I missed my guess, that would be the sheriff. I took one last photograph, and then I tucked
my camera into my pocket. There was no
use advertising the fact that I’d fully documented the threat before the
sheriff showed up to do his own investigation.
He got out of the cruiser and
walked toward us with real purpose. “I
don’t suppose you saw who did this, did you?”
“We were at Moose and Martha’s
place,” I said, deciding not to mention that we’d been at the theater before
that.
The sheriff nodded, and then he
took a few photographs of his own, though not nearly as many as I had. He talked softly as he worked, whether to us
or to himself, I wasn’t sure. “Just
paint,” he said, and then he added, “Block letters, and the paper’s common
enough, too.”
After Sheriff Croft was satisfied
with the record, he donned a pair of gloves and carefully removed the ice pick,
working it free and catching the
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