Chapter Six #2
“Did he draw cartoons like this before?”
“No.”
“Can you think of anybody else who might have done this? Maybe as a joke.”
“No. And it’s not a joke. It’s horrible.”
“Who do you think that figure up there is supposed to be?” the sheriff asked.
“It’s me,” she said.
The sheriff tilted his head as he considered the drawing. “I don’t see much of a resemblance.”
“When I was racing, I wore my hair in two long braids like that.”
“Lots of women wear their hair like that,” he said.
She didn’t answer. As far as she was concerned, his observation didn’t deserve an answer.
“You work ski patrol at the resort, isn’t that right?”
“Yes.” He already knew this. Why was he asking again?
“There was an accident there today—a young woman injured when she was hit by a snowboarder.”
“How did you know about that?” she asked.
“The guy who hit the young woman fled the scene. That’s against the Colorado skier responsibility code, so the resort called us in to interview the man. Were you one of the patrollers on that call?”
“Yes.” She should have realized law enforcement would be called. Leaving the scene of a ski accident wasn’t merely against resort policy—it violated state law.
The sheriff looked across to Liam. “I heard a photographer tracked down the snowboarder after he left the scene of the accident. Was that you?”
“Yes.”
The sheriff rested one hand on the roof of the car and leaned toward them.
“Here’s what I think happened. That young man was pretty upset about running into that young lady and then getting caught.
Maybe he decided to get back at the two of you and give you a shock.
He would have had plenty of time to get over here and paint this cartoon while you two were enjoying your wine and cheese.
That figure on the snow isn’t you, but the girl who was hurt today. ”
“How would he know where I live?” she asked.
“He could have talked to people you know. It probably wouldn’t be hard to find out your address, in a community this small.”
“Are you going to question him about this?” she asked.
“He’s headed back to Texas tomorrow morning. He shouldn’t give you any more trouble.”
“I don’t think this was the work of a tourist from Texas,” she said. “Aaron Nicholson tried to kill me before. He went to prison because of it. I believe he’s back and that he’ll try to harm me again.”
The sheriff glanced down the silent street. “We’ll talk to your neighbors, see if any of them saw anything we can follow up on.”
“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
“If you see Nicholson around, you let us know and we’ll bring him in for questioning.
” The sheriff straightened. “Unless someone saw the person who did this, we don’t have any evidence that he’s behind these pranks.
” He signaled to his deputy, who headed for his cruiser.
The sheriff touched the brim of his hat. “You have a nice night.”
“What about my garage door?” she asked.
“You’ll need to hire somebody to clean that off.” He turned and walked away.
Nina stared after him. “He really doesn’t believe me,” she said.
“Let’s go inside,” Liam said. “It’s freezing out here.”
She raised the window, then hesitated only a moment before hitting the button to lift the garage door.
She parked the car, then they got out. The dogs followed them into the house.
She dropped her pack and shed her parka, letting the warmth of the room surround her.
Sky got a long drink of water, then curled up at the end of the sofa. Angel settled next to her.
Nina hugged her arms across her chest and began to pace. “We can’t count on law enforcement to help us,” she said. “Not unless something drastic happens to make them pay attention.”
“We don’t want the situation to get that far,” Liam said. “We have to stop Nicholson before he hurts you, or anyone else.” He sat next to the dogs.
“We can’t depend on Doug or Marlena or resort security, either,” she said.
“But you think your ski patrol friends will help?”
“I know they will.” She stopped pacing. “We’re like family. If one of us needs something, the others will do everything they can.”
“Good,” Liam said. “Then we just have to come up with a plan.”
She started to sit in the chair across from him, then changed her mind and shoved Sky over so that she could sit next to him.
He was a warm, comforting presence, and she fought the urge to lean against him.
“How do you deal with someone who hides in the crowds and strikes when you’re away from home, or in the middle of the night? ” she asked.
“I think it would help if you told me what happened last time,” he said. “If you’re able to do that. You said he left notes before. What else happened? Maybe we can anticipate his next move and set a trap.”
She hadn’t talked to many people about that horrible time—law enforcement and lawyers initially, and later, a therapist. But her friends and family didn’t know the details.
It wasn’t something she cared to relive.
But Liam was right. If he was going to help her protect herself, she needed to trust him.