Chapters (41)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Also by Linda Castillo
- About the Author
- Copyright
“Not to mention threatening,” he says.
“Do you have any idea why someone would send them to you? Or what the notes refer to?”
“Some nutcase.” He shrugs. “Maybe some council business I was involved with? A decision I made someone didn’t agree with. Believe me, it happens.”
I nod, but sense I’m not getting the whole story. “You said this was taped on your windshield and yet it doesn’t look as if it’s been wet.”
“My car was parked in the garage.”
“So whoever left this entered your home without permission?”
“That’s correct.”
“That’s trespassing.” I think about that a moment. “Any idea how they got in?”
“There’s a dog door that goes into the backyard. Probably came in at night.”
Turning, I pull an evidence bag from a drawer in my credenza. I slide the notes into it and then seal it. “I’ll send these to the lab to see if they can pick up some latents.”
“I appreciate that.”
“You know, Norm, most stalking victims know their stalkers or they’ve had some contact with them at some point.” I make the statement without looking at him.
“Well, I have no idea who this is.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“Do you think it’s from a male or female?”
He hesitates. “I don’t know.”
I tap the evidence bag with my finger. “Are these the only notes you’ve received?”
“Yes.”
“Has anything else unusual happened? At home? At your office? Or when you’ve been out and about?”
“No.”
“What about social media? Facebook or Twitter? Or e-mail? Any strange messages? Or phone calls?”
“No. Nothing like that.”
“Anything taken from your garage?”
“I checked. No.” Pulling a kerchief from the pocket of his jacket, he blots at the sheen of sweat on his forehead. “This person came into my home, Chief Burkholder. In light of this recent and as-of-yet-unsolved murder, I felt as if I was being threatened.”
I pick up the evidence bag and recite the notes aloud from memory. “‘You knew.’ ‘You looked the other way.’ ‘You’re next.’” I furrow my brow. “They seem to be referring to a specific incident,” I say. “You’re sure you don’t have any idea what this stalker is referring to? Maybe he or she feels you’ve somehow wronged them? Maybe you had an argument or altercation that you didn’t think was important or significant at the time?”
“I have no idea what they could be referring to.”
“Norm, I know it’s frightening when something like this happens, and I know it can be disruptive to your life, but we don’t know that it’s related in any way to the murder.”