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Trent moved in close so they were elbow to elbow. “What have you got?”
She looked at him and raised her eyebrows. “Impatient much?”
“Just a bit. Whatever is coming out of that drawer has my interest.”
She slipped her hand inside and withdrew four white, letter-size envelopes.
“Dear God, it’s like those Russian nesting dolls.”
“Not quite.” Amanda laughed at Trent’s obvious eagerness.
None of the envelopes were postmarked, but each had Katherine’s name typewritten front and center. Based on the uneven distribution of ink, Amanda would surmise the stationery had been loaded into an actual typewriter.
She opened them one by one, pulling out a single tri-folded piece of paper from each. She read them as she went along. “‘You ruined my life. I will ruin yours.’ ‘You owe me. I’m coming to collect.’ ‘You lie. I will expose the truth and bring you to your knees.’ ‘You will hurt. I will get you alone one day.’”
This discovery was punctuated by a few moments of stunned silence.
Trent was the first to speak. “These weren’t mailed but hand delivered. That means this person has been to her house.”
“Not necessarily, and since we don’t know when she received them, it’s really hard to know where they were dropped off.”
“Well, you’re not denying the shooter from this morning knew where she lived.”
“I’m not, but it doesn’t mean he’s the sender of these threats either.”
“But he could be.”
This debate could go on all day, but Amanda was literally saved by the bell. The ringing doorbell was followed by a knock and a call out of, “Yoo-hoo.” The voice was that of a woman. Whoever she was, she’d let herself inside.
Amanda abandoned the threats and led the way from the office.
A mature woman was standing in the entry tucking some of her gray hair behind her ears. Her face was pale, but she had the most piercing blue eyes Amanda had ever seen.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” Amanda said to her. “We’re Detectives Steele and Stenson. And you are?”
The woman stepped back and rubbed at her arms, but she pushed out her chin. “Nancy Orr. Why are you in Kat’s home?”
Amanda relaxed at the woman abbreviating Katherine’s name as it indicated a friendship, but she couldn’t let her guard down. “We could ask you the same.”
Nancy pushed her gaze over to Trent, lingered some before returning to look at Amanda. “I live next door, and I want to know what’s going on.”
Amanda could give the woman credit for her honesty. “Are you friends with Katherine?”
“I suppose you could say that. Sometimes we sit out back and pass time in the evenings. Say, is she all right?”
A span of silence. Trent must share her quandary about this question, appreciating it was a technicality nightmare. They had no way of knowing her current welfare.
“Would you be kind enough to talk to us for a moment?” Amanda gestured toward the front sitting room, and Nancy complied, though her movements were slow and hesitant.
She sat on a white fabric couch, and Amanda and Trent each dropped onto matching chairs. Only people without kids dare buy white fabric.
The older woman’s chin quivered as she darted her eyes back and forth between them. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
“There is a developing situation involving Katherine.” Amanda opted to drop the surname, abandoning the formality she would normally use at such a time. She also did her best to squeeze out the most menacing threat from her mind. You will hurt. I will get you alone one day.
“What does that mean? A situation? Is she alive?”
Amanda debated how to respond as she had before when May asked. She decided to stick to that path. “She is.”
