in her seat and parted the blind slats on the window behind her sofa. The dark sedan still sat across the street. Should she go out there and offer the officers something to eat or drink? Coffee?
Behind her, she heard Darlene ask, “Who’s calling?”
Did cops on a stakeout order from a restaurant that delivered or did they bring a sack lunch? Okay, her thoughts were really drifting here.
“Claire.”
She turned away from the window. Darlene offered her the receiver. Keeping her voice down so the caller wouldn’t hear, Claire asked, “Who is it?”
Darlene raised her shoulders up then let them fall. “He didn’t give his name, just said he was from the Homicide Division.”
Could be Detective Atwood. “Thanks.” Claire accepted the receiver. “Hello.”
“Is this Claire Grant, the teacher from Whitesburg Middle School?”
Definitely not Atwood. The voice was deeper, more stilted. “Yes, it is. Who is this?” Maybe not stilted, maybe a slight European accent.
“I am Abdul Nusair.”
Her mouth dropped open but failed to form the words of denial that burned in her brain. Her heart started to thunder, making the blood roar in her ears.
“Claire Grant, you will die for your transgression. Over and over again .”
A click signaled the call was over.
Claire stared at the receiver, uncertain she had heard what she thought she’d heard.
“Who was that?”
Claire looked from the phone to her friend. “Abdul Nusair.”
A mixture of disbelief and fear claimed Darlene’s expression. “What?”
Claire licked her lips and sucked in a sudden breath. “He said I was going to die…over and over again.”
Chapter 5
T here was a sudden pounding at the front door. Claire wheeled around to face the possible threat.
“Call 911, Claire!”
But the police were right outside…weren’t they?
Darlene snatched the phone out of her hand and entered the three digits.
“Miss Grant, this is Detective Atwood, please open the door.”
Claire held up a hand for Darlene to wait a second. “I recognize the voice. It’s the detective who was at the school yesterday.”
“I’m sorry, it’s okay now,” Darlene said to the 911 operator. “The police are already here.”
Leaving her friend to explain the situation to the 911 operator, Claire started to unlock the door but hesitated. She did recognize the voice but she needed to be sure. She peeked out the window and confirmed that it was indeed the detective from yesterday. He was alone.
She gave the dead bolt a twist and opened the door. “Detective Atwood—”
“Miss Grant,” he cut her off before she could ask any questions, “you’re going to have to come with me.”
Perspiration had beaded on the man’s forehead and his face was red as if he’d run around the block a couple of times in his nice suit. She glanced out at the sedan still parked at the curb on her side of the street. The two officers inside were staring back at her. But Atwood hadn’t been with them. Where was his car?
“What’s going on, Detective?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s no time to explain.” He reached for her arm to usher her out the door. “You should come with me now .”
“Wait just a minute.” Darlene stepped in front of Claire. “Where are you taking her and why?”
Atwood craned his neck to check the street and yard. “Please. There is no time. We have to go. Now! ”
Darlene turned to Claire. “I wouldn’t—”
Before she could say anything else, the detective grabbed Darlene’s arm and pulled her around to face him. “Unless you want to be placed under arrest for obstructing an officer of the law, I would suggest you move out of the way, ma’am.” As if realizing his tactics might come across as somewhat more than pushy, he explained, more calmly, “Please, ma’am, this is an urgent situation.”
“It’s okay, Darlene.” Claire stepped around her and out onto the porch. “I’ll be fine.”
Darlene glared at the detective.
Behind her, she heard Darlene ask, “Who’s calling?”
Did cops on a stakeout order from a restaurant that delivered or did they bring a sack lunch? Okay, her thoughts were really drifting here.
“Claire.”
She turned away from the window. Darlene offered her the receiver. Keeping her voice down so the caller wouldn’t hear, Claire asked, “Who is it?”
Darlene raised her shoulders up then let them fall. “He didn’t give his name, just said he was from the Homicide Division.”
Could be Detective Atwood. “Thanks.” Claire accepted the receiver. “Hello.”
“Is this Claire Grant, the teacher from Whitesburg Middle School?”
Definitely not Atwood. The voice was deeper, more stilted. “Yes, it is. Who is this?” Maybe not stilted, maybe a slight European accent.
“I am Abdul Nusair.”
Her mouth dropped open but failed to form the words of denial that burned in her brain. Her heart started to thunder, making the blood roar in her ears.
“Claire Grant, you will die for your transgression. Over and over again .”
A click signaled the call was over.
Claire stared at the receiver, uncertain she had heard what she thought she’d heard.
“Who was that?”
Claire looked from the phone to her friend. “Abdul Nusair.”
A mixture of disbelief and fear claimed Darlene’s expression. “What?”
Claire licked her lips and sucked in a sudden breath. “He said I was going to die…over and over again.”
Chapter 5
T here was a sudden pounding at the front door. Claire wheeled around to face the possible threat.
“Call 911, Claire!”
But the police were right outside…weren’t they?
Darlene snatched the phone out of her hand and entered the three digits.
“Miss Grant, this is Detective Atwood, please open the door.”
Claire held up a hand for Darlene to wait a second. “I recognize the voice. It’s the detective who was at the school yesterday.”
“I’m sorry, it’s okay now,” Darlene said to the 911 operator. “The police are already here.”
Leaving her friend to explain the situation to the 911 operator, Claire started to unlock the door but hesitated. She did recognize the voice but she needed to be sure. She peeked out the window and confirmed that it was indeed the detective from yesterday. He was alone.
She gave the dead bolt a twist and opened the door. “Detective Atwood—”
“Miss Grant,” he cut her off before she could ask any questions, “you’re going to have to come with me.”
Perspiration had beaded on the man’s forehead and his face was red as if he’d run around the block a couple of times in his nice suit. She glanced out at the sedan still parked at the curb on her side of the street. The two officers inside were staring back at her. But Atwood hadn’t been with them. Where was his car?
“What’s going on, Detective?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s no time to explain.” He reached for her arm to usher her out the door. “You should come with me now .”
“Wait just a minute.” Darlene stepped in front of Claire. “Where are you taking her and why?”
Atwood craned his neck to check the street and yard. “Please. There is no time. We have to go. Now! ”
Darlene turned to Claire. “I wouldn’t—”
Before she could say anything else, the detective grabbed Darlene’s arm and pulled her around to face him. “Unless you want to be placed under arrest for obstructing an officer of the law, I would suggest you move out of the way, ma’am.” As if realizing his tactics might come across as somewhat more than pushy, he explained, more calmly, “Please, ma’am, this is an urgent situation.”
“It’s okay, Darlene.” Claire stepped around her and out onto the porch. “I’ll be fine.”
Darlene glared at the detective.
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