One #3
He shook his head. “No, he didn’t. He said his daughter’s name is Melissa. The caller must have seen the car and mistakenly believed it belonged to someone else.”
He was probably right but that didn’t help calm her worry.
She needed to run this by Sheriff Thompson so she could assure Emily that she was overreacting.
Only, she could see the sheriff’s office from the dispatch room.
The door was closed, the blinds drawn and no light was visible from beneath the door.
She must have gone home right after the training session ended.
Emily ducked into the break room for privacy.
No one was there, so she pulled out her cell phone and dialed the sheriff’s number.
She hated bothering her at home—Sheriff Thompson had a new husband to rush home to—but she would want to know about the eerie call to dispatch.
Hearing her name mentioned on that call had been unsettling.
“Allison, what’s the matter?” The sheriff’s voice held an edge of concern.
She quickly related the events and even the sheriff sounded concerned. “I’ll have Dale pull the call and replay it for me.”
“I don’t mean to ruin your evening. It’s probably nothing. Lots of people are named Emily.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s always better to err on the side of caution.”
The sheriff ended the call with a promise to phone her back. Until then, Emily would be on high alert for something or someone watching her.
She texted Nash too, only her message went unread and he didn’t respond.
In four years, he’d never failed to respond to her questions.
That concerned her, but she had no way of getting in touch with him other than the number he’d given her.
And he’d never given her the name or number of someone to call if she couldn’t reach him.
If he didn’t respond soon, she would talk with the sheriff about whether to reach out to the marshals service to inquire about him.
Her phone rang again and she answered it, seeing it was Sheriff Thompson. “Did you find out anything?”
“Not really. I listened to the call myself. The caller was muffling his voice, and what he said wasn’t really clear.
He might have been asking for Emily, but he could have been saying something else too.
I also called Gordon. He seemed to think everything with the abandoned vehicle checked out.
” She sighed. “Allison, I’m not saying don’t be cautious, but I don’t think there was anything to this call. ”
Calls into 911 were often muddled or unclear given the adrenaline that usually kicked in during emergencies.
It had taken her a while to learn to listen closely, and she still sometimes had callers she couldn’t decipher.
Dale, who was relatively new to the job, could easily have misinterpreted.
“Thank you, Sheriff. That does make me feel better.”
“Call me if something else comes up.”
She ended the call, feeling silly about overreacting. Hearing her name, her real name, had shaken her but even if the caller had said the name Emily, that didn’t mean they were referring to her.
She took a deep breath and tried to calm down.
She needed to focus on ordinary things. It was nearly six p.m. and she had errands she needed to run.
Groceries, dry cleaners, and then by the library to return some books before she headed home.
Yet, she couldn’t push aside the fear that had plagued her since learning of Kane’s release.
She tightened her coat around her as she walked to her car, scanning the parking lot for anything amiss as she walked.
A chill ran up her neck as she reached for the door, and she spun around certain she would find someone there.
There was no one. She was only being paranoid.
Victor Kane had no idea where she was or the name she was living under.
Being Allison Meeks meant staying alive.
She stopped by the library first then the dry cleaners before hitting the grocery store. Even then, she grabbed only the necessities. She was ready to be in the safety of her own home, and maybe by the time she arrived, Nash would have finally called her back.
She paid for her items then walked to her car, thankful that she hadn’t run into anyone who wanted to stop and chat—a common occurrence while living in a small town like Mercy.
Once again, that chill ran through her. She felt someone’s eyes watching her.
She glanced around the parking lot and spotted a black SUV with a single occupant in the driver’s seat.
Someone waiting for his wife to finish in the store? Or waiting for her to make their move?
She couldn’t see his face, but the driver seemed to squirm as she stared at him. She pulled out her cell phone to call for a deputy to check him out. However, when she glanced at her phone, she heard yelling. The driver was out of his vehicle and yelling something at her.
Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind, clamping his hand over her mouth and pressing a knife to her throat.
Copyright ? 2026 by Virginia Vaughan