28. Vivian
Chapter twenty-eight
Vivian
I hug Eloise tight, inhaling the sweet floral scent of her hair. “Bye baby, have a great day and I’ll see you this afternoon.” Part of me wishes I could keep her with me all day, every day, but I know she is doing so well at preschool. Mom guilt still hits at drop-off every now and then though.
“Bye Mama, love you!” Eloise calls over her shoulder before running to her classroom door. I watch her enter the building before turning away. There is a group of clucking hens sharing the latest gossip blocking the path back to my car.
“They have no idea who hit him, can y’all believe that?” I overhear a few of the women animatedly talking as I walk by. Savannah has referred to this particular group as the K Club as they all have names starting with the letter K: Kelli, Kimmy, Kaci, and I think the other one’s name is Kallie. The K Club are all blonde with fake spray tans, perfectly manicured nails, holding designer purses, and wearing luxury athleisure. They may be the closest thing to a Stepford wife as Forrest Falls has, and they always have the hottest gossip. I’m not interested in being friends with them, but I’m wise enough to not want to be on their bad side either. Playground politics can easily extend to the mamas, and I want to be Switzerland.
“Hunter is such a nice guy, I hope he recovers soon,” Kelli says. I recognize her as one of the moms of a girl on my niece Emily’s soccer team. My head shoots up at Hunter’s name and Kelli notices, turning to me. “Hey, Vivian. Did you hear the wild news about this morning?”
“No, I didn’t. What happened?” I ask as the K Club shifts to open their circle toward me.
“Do you know Hunter Miller? His kids go here; his daughter is in fourth grade and his son is in second grade. He was married but got divorced two years ago. You may have seen him around when he does drop offs on the few mornings he has the kids,” Kaci tells me and I nod as Kimmy chimes in.
“This is just crazy, especially for little ol’ Forrest Falls. So, Hunter is an avid runner, part of why his body looks so good, and this morning he was out for a morning run since his ex had the kids, which I’m sure was inconvenient for her currently married boyfriend.”
Oh boy.
“Anyway, someone hit Hunter with their car!” My shocked gasp doesn’t slow Kelli down. “Oh, that’s not all, the person that hit him? They just drove away! Can you believe it? Someone hit a person with their car and drove off? What is this, New York City? This is Forrest Falls. Crimes like this do not happen here!”
“Oh my goodness! Is he okay?” I ask the K Club.
“We don’t really know. His ex was still listed as his emergency contact so the police, or the hospital, or whoever called her early this morning. She obviously called the kids out of school today so that’s how I heard,” Kallie says.
Kelli quietly adds, “I heard it’s bad, like broken bones bad. He is lucky he’s alive.”
“Yes, I heard from his ex’s cousin that it’s not good. He has a fractured pelvis, a broken right leg and right wrist. He’s going to need multiple surgeries to correct the breaks,” Kimmy says.
My eyes widen at that statement. Hunter must be in a lot of pain; his injuries sound quite serious. “Oh no, that’s awful!” The same guy that was shamelessly flirting with me two days ago at Java Jive is now lucky to even be alive.
The hair on my arms stands up—what are the odds that whoever is watching and threatening me is somehow involved in Hunter getting hit? They have to be pretty slim, but my stomach churns at the possibility.
“Honey, of course if anyone knows how fast life can change, you do sweetheart, bless your heart,” Kallie says to me with a look of pity. “Hunter will be okay. Thankfully we have wonderful orthopedic surgeons, like my husband, right here in Forrest Falls.”
“Oh, the best!” The K Club enthusiastically agrees and continues talking about Hunter and his ex’s very messy divorce. I take that as my chance to step away. I don’t particularly care to know the details about who cheated on whom, but according to the K Club they both cheated—and often—on each other.
I wave goodbye as I cross the parking lot and get in my car. I hope Hunter feels better soon, and I also think it’s a sign from the universe that I should never become a runner. I didn’t have any interest in running unless it’s away from a bear, but being hit by a car seems like a good reason to avoid it all together. I hope this was just a fluke, which feels like such an odd thing to hope, but even if I wasn’t interested in Hunter, he is still someone’s father and I don’t want to be responsible for his injury in any way.
One week later, I grab Savannah and Shane’s mail and walk up their front steps before my body freezes in place. In the stack of mail I was sorting, there is a plain envelope addressed to Vivian Callahan. I look around to see if anyone is watching me as a chill runs through my body, but I don’t see anyone out on the street, although it definitely feels like someone is watching me. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as I hurry into Savannah’s house, dropping the pile of mail on her dining room table before hollering for Savannah to meet me in the kitchen. Her footsteps quickly announce her arrival from upstairs as I open the envelope.
“Viv, what’s wrong?” She turns the corner and sees me opening another anonymous poem. “Oh, hell no, I’m calling the Sheriff. Put that down, Viv!” Savannah turns and goes back into the kitchen as I ignore my sister’s command, and I take the poem out to read it. It is once again in a plain envelope, without a return address, and the typed poem is on basic, nondescript, plain paper, just like the others, and in the same font as the previous poems.
Hunt down runners.
No. No, no, no. Whomever sent this capitalized the word hunt and I don’t think that was a typo. My breath stalls as I realize my fears came true … this doesn’t make any sense. What does Hunter getting hit have to do with me?
My stomach lurches and flips with a sudden wave of nausea. Savannah comes back into the room, putting her arm around me, and guides me to sit on a barstool as she talks to someone on her cell phone held between her cheek and shoulder. “No Liam, I don’t know the answer to that, she just got it in the mail today. No, I don’t … Yes, I am. Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker.” Savannah places the phone on the counter between us.
“What does it say, Viv?” Liam’s booming voice doesn’t mess around with pleasantries as I read the poem out loud to Savannah and Liam.
“I want you to contact Special Agent Bennett and have him notify the Chicago PD. I’m going to move some things around and I’ll be back in Forrest Falls in the next twenty-four hours. Sav, take me off speaker for a minute, please.” Savannah picks up the phone and walks into the dining room. I can’t hear the full conversation, but Savannah just seems to be agreeing with him on this end of it. I pull my cell phone out and instead of texting Walker, I don’t overthink it and press send to call him. I just need to hear his voice right now.
“Agent Bennett.” His smooth and rich voice answers on the second ring. He must be in a room full of people as it’s loud wherever he is but hearing his voice makes me feel a little better for some reason. I know I’m safe in my sister’s house, even if I’m completely creeped out right now, but his voice feels like another layer of security.
“Walker, it’s me, um, it’s Vivian.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“Vivian? Hey, can you hold on a second? I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to see the caller ID before picking up and was expecting a different call.” I can hear a door close wherever he is as the background noise quiets. “What’s going on? Are you okay? ”
“I’m okay but … Walker, I … I just received another poem.” My voice sounds so meek and my skin is crawling, but I can’t help how freaked out I am right now. Whoever is sending these anonymous taunts is now hurting other people and I don’t know what I did to deserve this.
“Are you at your sister’s?” he demands and I whimper in response. Walker sounds like he’s now jogging. “Stay there, put the note and envelope in a plastic bag. Don’t touch it again. We can exclude your prints but it’s better if no one else touches it. What did the poem say, Vivian?” I can hear the call switch to his Bluetooth and the roar of his truck.
“I don’t understand this, Walker. This poem, or note, or whatever feels more like a threat this time but who would be threatening me? What did I do?” My breath is starting to evade me, and I’m struggling to take a deep inhale. The pressure increases in my chest and my hands are trembling. I cover my eyes with one hand and try to counteract the pressure building in my head by pressing on my forehead. I’m on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.
Savannah walks through the kitchen to get a food storage bag for me from the pantry. I involuntarily rub my chest with my hand, slightly pressing my fingertips over my racing heart, trying to calm the palpitations and tingling in my chest. Tilting my head, I try to balance the phone while I reach for the plastic bag, but my movements are shaky. Savannah catches my cell just before it slips off my shoulder and puts the call on speaker when she sees who’s on the other end, placing it on the countertop in front of us. Pulling me in for a side hug, she gives me a tight squeeze.
“Hi Agent Bennett, this is Vivian’s sister, Savannah. I think our girl here is on the verge of a panic attack so if we could pause any questions right now, I would really appreciate it. Viv, you need to take a deep breath, honey.” Savannah is slowly rubbing familiar circular patterns on my back; it’s the same way our mama would rub our backs to calm us down.
“Vivian?” Walker calls for me, and I want to answer him but I just shake my head slightly to my sister. “Vivian, I need you to focus on my voice. What are four things you can see in the room right now?” Walker’s deep voice commands my attention through the phone.
I lower my hand to look around the room, following his instructions. “My sister, uh … a vase of flowers, my phone, and … and a hot pink water bottle,” I respond as I try to focus on just breathing.
“Good girl. What are three things you can feel or reach out to touch right now?” Walker continues.
“My sister’s hand on my back, my leg bouncing on the stool, and … and the cool kitchen island under my forearms.”
“There you go. You’re doing great, honey. Take a deep breath, Vivian, and then I want you to tell me two things you can smell right now.”
“My sister’s perfume and … the flowers on the counter.” I can finally take a deep breath. My heartrate is still galloping but my lungs are grateful for the oxygen.
“Okay Vivian, what is one thing you can hear right now?” His deep timbre voice has my full attention.
“You. I can hear you right now, Walker,” I respond sounding a bit more like myself, although my hands are still trembling.
“That’s right, Viv. You can hear me and I’m telling you it’s going to be okay. We are going to figure this out. I’m en route from the Nashville office and will be at your sister’s as soon as possible. I have another field agent that’s also coming to your sister’s house to collect the poem to get it to the lab for prints. If she beats me there, her name is Special Agent Tara White, and she is a member of my task force. I trust her and you can too. As soon as she gets the poem, she’s going to personally rush it to our lab for processing. ”
How did he coordinate that when he’s been on the phone with me for less than five minutes? I don’t question him, I just agree. His voice calms me so I try to focus on just that for right now. I don’t know when it happened, but at some point, I started to depend on Walker. He makes me feel safe and right now, that’s everything to me.