Ellen’s voice was cut off, and a man’s deep baritone came on the line. “Hello?”

Tritia’s heart leapt to her throat. It took all of her courage, all of her inner strength not to hang up the receiver. “Who is this?” she demanded in the most intimidating voice she could muster.

“This is Dr. Roberts. Who is this?”

“Oh, it’s you.” Tritia relaxed a little, breathing an audible sigh of relief. In the background, she could hear a male and female voice arguing. “This is Tritia Albin.”

“Tritia. Hello. I heard part of your conversation from this end. Ellen told you she was being chased, did she?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry she disturbed you. Her sons have been trying to keep an eye on her, but they can’t monitor her twenty-four hours a day, and lately each time she has a chance she calls someone and tells them she’s being stalked.” He breathed deeply, the heavy intake of air thick and rough over the phone. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. The boys don’t want to even consider it, but I told them that their mother’s going to have to seek some kind of counseling. I refuse to treat her by simply pumping drugs into her body, and her emotional situation is far worse than I am equipped to handle. She may even have to be institutionalized for a short period of time. Who knows? I’m certainly no expert in these matters.”

“What’s happened to her?” Tritia asked.

“Grief. Repressed, pent-up emotions suddenly finding an outlet. As I said, I’m no expert, but it’s clear that Bob’s sui—uh, death, triggered this whatever-it-is, acted as the catalyst.” The arguing in the background grew louder, more heated. “Sorry, but you’re going to have to excuse me. I think we have a slight emergency developing here. Thank you for your patience and cooperation. I’ll be in touch.”

He hung up before Tritia could say good-bye. She lowered the receiver slowly into its cradle. For some reason, she felt guilty, as though she had somehow betrayed Ellen’s confidence. It was a strange thought, not at all logical, but then the entire conversation had been more than a little surrealistic. She had been relieved when the doctor had picked up the phone, grateful to hand over the reins of responsibility and decision, but she had not been able to do so wholeheartedly or with a clear conscience, though she trusted the doctor completely. She walked out of the house, back onto the porch, and sat down numbly in her chair. Ellen was obviously disturbed, obviously having some serious emotional/psychological problems, but for a moment there, before the doctor had come on the line, Tritia had actually believed that someone had been after Ellen, that someone had been in her house.

And she knew exactly who that someone was.