had learned a great deal from Naomi Wallace about his department’s role in special events—closing off roads, patrolling for maximum safety and ensuring activities met city codes.
Now, by God, he had to get back to his current focus, projecting manpower requirements and documenting his findings in a way he could sell to the city council.
He’d called up the folder on his laptop and was trying to remember whether he’d received the statistics on calls logged by patrol that he’d requested from Brian Cooper, the captain on the patrol side of the department, when his cell rang. Since he’d been struggling to focus anyway, he glanced at it with irritation.
The number was unfamiliar. Nonetheless, he picked it up. “Chief Raynor.”
“We saw you on television.” The voice was weirdly muffled. Not metallic, as if it was being electronically altered. More as if something was between the mouth and the phone receiver.
“Who is this?” he asked sharply.
“You will withdraw your support of Captain McAllister for the position of sheriff.” Muffled or not, the speaker sounded deathly serious. “If you don’t do as we ask, we can make you very sorry.”
The click was audible. His caller was gone.
The phone number was local and clearly a landline. After a moment’s hesitation, he called it. It rang half a dozen times with no answer. He redialed. Another half-dozen rings. Again.
This time he got an answer. “Jerry’s Tavern and Pool Hall,” a man said brusquely. “What can I do for you?”
“This is Police Chief Alec Raynor. Not two minutes ago, I received a call from this number.”
“Customers use it sometimes. Maybe it was a wrong number.”
“No,” he said coolly, “it was a threat.”
Silence. “I sure as hell didn’t call you.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you did. I’m asking if you saw who used the phone last.”
“I’m afraid not. Uh, I’m Jerry. This is my place. I was down in the basement grabbing a keg. There are a couple of locals in here. Let me ask.”
Jerry covered the phone, but Alec could still hear him call, “Hey, Billy! Marvin, is that you? Yeah, either of you just use the phone?” Their answers were indistinguishable. “Uh-huh,” Jerry said a couple of times. Then, “You see somebody making a call? Just a minute ago?”
He came back on. “They were playing a game of pool. Neither of ’em could see the hall from there. I had the back door open.” He sounded apologetic. “This isn’t a real busy time of day. I was bringing in supplies from a Sam’s Club run. Afraid pretty much anyone could’ve walked in and used the phone quick, if they were of a mind to.”
Alec asked a few more questions, but knew it was hopeless. Out of curiosity, he thought he might drive by Jerry’s and see how easily a passerby could have seen a way to slip in and use that phone, unseen.
He wanted to think it was a prank call, but well-developed instincts said no. One of Sheriff Brock’s increasingly desperate staffers? More likely. If so, Alec doubted the threat was real.
He couldn’t dismiss it altogether, though. Fanatics could be found anywhere. Frowning, he sat thinking about the call. He wasn’t worried about himself. He’d been a cop too long to ever be anything but wary. What he didn’t like was knowing that he now had an Achilles’ heel.
Three of them, to be precise. And, although his home address was and would stay unlisted, it wouldn’t be hard to follow him home. Or even just ask around. This small city more often felt like a small town to him. Everyone knew everyone. And anybody watching him would see quickly that the woman and children living on the other side of the duplex weren’t just renters.
But the caller hadn’t mentioned them, he reminded himself. Anyone in law enforcement got used to being threatened. This one hadn’t been atypical. He couldn’t deny that it had unsettled him, though.
Tell Julia?
No. All he’d do was upset her and make her overprotective, which wouldn’t go over well with Matt right now.
He swore aloud, disconcerted when he heard his voice. Damn it, he was overreacting.
One thing he could do was check with Noah Chandler and find out whether he’d had a similar call. Chandler wouldn’t be any more likely to give in to that kind of pressure than Alec was, but, like Alec, he had recently acquired an Achilles’ heel of his own. In fact, if Alec wasn’t mistaken, Chandler’s wedding to Colin McAllister’s sister was only a couple of weeks away. He had an invitation.
Alec wondered if any security had been planned for the wedding.
It was a good ten minutes before he could drag most of his attention back to his required-manpower projections for the city of Angel Butte.
CHAPTER THREE
TWO DAYS LATER, they were moved into the duplex, a huge relief to Julia after the aeon she and the kids had spent trapped together, first in the car and then the hotel room. At least with three bedrooms, each of them had a refuge. She would have been ashamed to admit to anyone else how grateful she was for the hours Matt usually spent holed up in his bedroom.
The one drawback was that the kids’ bikes arrived on the moving truck along with the furniture, and now that he had wheels, she couldn’t think of a good reason to forbid Matt from disappearing to who knew where.
Thank heavens for the positives she was able to cling to as the first week in their new home went on. Number one, of course, was Alec. He was there. Eating with them every evening, quietly interceding with Matt, teasing Liana, giving Julia a sounding board. He was everything she’d wanted Josh to be, and while making a comparison like that disturbed her, she was too grateful for Alec’s solid presence to let herself dwell on whether she was a dreadful person for contrasting him with Josh.
Second, Matt had yet to pull anything awful, like get drunk or be caught shoplifting, or even get into a fight. He wasn’t exactly a delight, but she was letting herself hope, if only a tiny bit. Could having Alec so much more involved in their lives be making a difference?
And then there was the fact that, despite her shyness, within a day Liana had made tentative inroads with a neighbor girl.
Bothered that the girl seemed to be home alone all day, Julia kept an eye out the front window near the end of the third day. When she saw a car turn into that driveway, she strolled over to meet Sophie’s mother, who introduced herself as Andrea Young. Obviously feeling a need to explain why her daughter was alone during the day, Andrea immediately started talking about her divorce and the fact that her ex had shortly thereafter moved to Texas. To her credit, she kept an eye on the girls to be sure her daughter wasn’t overhearing her. The ex called occasionally, Andrea said with some bitterness, and that was about it.
“I count my blessings he’s paying his child support so far.” She cocked her head. “You on your own, too?”
“I’m a widow.” Julia hated saying that, seeing the instant sympathy. “My husband was military. The blessing is that we do have death benefits, so I’m not as strapped financially as most single mothers. As soon as we’re settled in, I’ll be job hunting, though.” She explained about her relationship to Alec and said that they’d decided to move to a smaller town for the sake of the kids, without being specific about her troubled son.
Both women continued to watch the girls, who were playing hopscotch on the sidewalk, having drawn the squares with colored chalk Julia had provided. Sophie was apparently artistic, as she’d gotten Liana to help her decorate the sidewalk for several additional squares in each direction with elaborate, intertwined curlicues. They’d probably had more fun doing that than they were having now playing such a childish game, even though they kept making mistakes—seemingly on purpose—and then giggling madly.
Julia