style="font-size:15px;"> “I don’t. And even if I did, where would I go? For how long?”
“I understand how difficult this is,” the detective said. “Believe me, we’re working as quickly as we can, trying to trace this. Unfortunately we’re dealing with computer-generated messages on generic paper. We know from the postmark that whoever is sending these is mailing them from somewhere here in Chicago—probably from the same place each time. And based on the repetition, I’m guessing that this guy’s serious.”
“He might not be targeting me. They’re addressed to the editor in chief.”
“We are considering that he’s angry with the magazine itself. But it would appear that he believes that you control whatever comes out of here. We have to assume that whatever it is he wants done is, in his opinion, under your control, as well.”
Jane focused on the plaque.
“The guy’s sending the letters here. What if this escalates and he targets the building?”
“We’re posting extra people around the premises. A uniformed officer will be on guard at the security screening station at the main entrance. And screening officers are being assigned to the two private entrance doors, as well. They’ll hand search everyone who tries to enter there.”
The other tenants were going to love her.
She told Detective Thomas about her encounter with Kim Maplewood that morning and about Shawn’s conversation with his pastor. He told her again to be careful.
“Don’t go anywhere you don’t absolutely have to go,” he said. “Especially here in the city. And don’t go anywhere alone.”
“I’ve hired a private security company….”
“I’ve already met with Walt Overmeyer,” the detective said. “He or one of his associates will also be walking you to and from your car and the building every day for the next little bit. I recommend that you hire them to watch your house at night, too. And in the meantime, we’ll be doing all we can to get this guy.”
Before he gets you, Jane finished silently, thanking the officer as she ushered him out.
She hadn’t liked anything the man had to say.
He was there to help her. To protect her.
So why didn’t she feel protected?
BRAD WAS BACK IN HIS OFFICE after an emotionally charged settlement conference when Jane called late Monday afternoon.
He answered the call on the first ring. He hadn’t expected to hear from her again so soon.
“There’s been another threat.”
All thoughts of Saturday—and sex—flew out of his mind. “What does it say?”
“Same thing.”
“So what in the hell does this guy want you to do?”
“He might be a woman, for all we know.”
“Fine, what could this person possibly want you to do?”
“I have no idea.” Jane’s troubled sigh made it harder for him to stay detached. “Believe me, I’m driving myself crazy trying to figure it out,” she continued. “I mean, how can I possibly do what this person wants if I don’t know what it is?”
“What about nonthreatening letters to the editor?” Brad asked, hating this new feeling of helplessness he had where Jane was concerned. “Is there anything there that might tie in?”
“The police took everything we had and haven’t found a connection. I’ve personally gone over every issue we’ve published in the past six months, tried to piece them together with a note or letter or phone call, but I can’t come up with anything.”
“But this person must think you know what he or she wants or why put on the pressure?”
“Detective Thomas suspects we’re dealing with a narcissist. Or at least someone unhinged enough to overestimate their importance to me. The police are doing all they can, but how much time do I have before this person decides I’m not going to do what’s right?”
“I guess that depends on what they want you to do.”
“Right, and if I don’t do it, what’s the ‘or else’?”
Brad had no answer to that, either, but whatever the “or else” meant, it couldn’t be good.
“What about Durango? Did they find anything there?”
“Not yet, but I ran into Kim Maplewood this morning.”
Brad straightened when he heard the name. His client was no longer officially associated with Jane, but she had a very angry ex-husband. “What’d she have to say?”
He was more uncomfortable than ever when he heard about Shawn’s visit to his minister.
“He needs someone to blame in lieu of taking accountability for his own actions and since blaming Kim didn’t work…” Brad let the thought trail off.
“I know. Thomas said he’s going to bring Shawn in for questioning.”
Brad was glad to hear it, but didn’t feel any better about her safety. “And in the meantime?”
“I called Barbara Manley.” Barbara was Jane’s boss and the publisher of a much more established and highly respected national news magazine. Jane had written for the publication before heading up Twenty-Something. “The company is footing the bill for upgraded security in our building and to have someone watch my house at night, too.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Keep your phone close by.”
“I will.”
“And your mace.”
“I always do.”
“Call me if you so much as hear the wind whistle.”
“Okay.”
“Or if you just plain get scared. I’m two minutes away and sleep just fine on the couch.”
He’d spent the night at her house before, when she’d been sick. And a time or two on holidays when they’d had more to drink than safe driving allowed.
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted and Brad had a feeling that no matter how scared she might get in the middle of the night, he was not going to be the one she called.
Whether Jane wanted to admit it or not, things had changed between them.
The knowledge left him empty and sad. He was worried as hell about her. And helpless to do a damned thing that would make the situation better.
THE BLACK SUIT? Or the red one? Black spoke of power and authority. Its absence of color blocked emotional accessibility. Black commanded respect.
