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And now and then, during late evenings at the clinic, she’d had a prickly sensation at the back of her neck.
A sensation of something not being quite right.
Of being watched.
Which was ridiculous, given the closed blinds and the fact that everything—everything—was always in its right place. But maybe that premonition hadn’t been so ridiculous after all.
Mandy hopped from one foot to the other, casting nervous glances between the clinic and Jolie. “Is he okay in there?” she whispered. “There could be some crazy person hiding in there, and—”
“No, Mandy,” Jolie soothed, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded. “He’s just checking for evidence before we go in.”
Edging closer, Mandy lowered her voice to a whisper. “What did youseein there? I saw broken glass, but what was thatthinglying in the hallway?”
It was a naked, red-haired doll with crimson slashes painted across its chest, arms, and legs, spelling the word, DEAD.
Jolie managed a bland smile. “Probably just something thrown at the window to break it, that’s all.”
Rafe appeared at the door of the clinic, and instantly a hush fell over the people gathered outside. If she didn’t feel so shaken, Jolie might have thought it amusing.
“It’s nothing at all, folks,” he called out. “Just some broken glass. Dr. Maxwell was wise to call me, just in case.”
He motioned Jolie toward the clinic, and both Irene and Mandy followed close at her heels. “I’d like to talk to you privately,” he murmured as they stepped inside. “Perhaps your staff can wait at the receptionist’s desk?”
In her office, he settled one hip against her desk and crossed his arms. “Someone went to a bit of trouble, here, but theft doesn’t appear to be the motive. Your cabinets in the lab were still locked, the TV and DVD in the back room are still there. None of the file drawers were open.”
His gaze flicked to the camera on the bookshelves by her desk. “It’s hard to believe that anyone missed that.”
She hadn’t started filling the shelves yet, but her old digital SLR Nikon sat in plain view, next to the bulging camera bag holding a couple of telephoto lenses.
“Have you had any other problems?”
“Nothing, really...some phone calls where no one answers, but that doesn’t mean much. I used to get some heavy-breather calls in California. Changed my number twice, but the calls kept coming. Never had a face-to-face encounter with the guy, though.”
“Anything on the caller ID?”
“I’m not that lucky. Just “unknown” shows on the screen.”
“Tell me about anyone who might have a grudge against you, Jolie.”
She gave him a rueful smile. “Half the town?”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. During my first day of cleaning up this place, some people stopped by and let me know they weren’t happy to see a Maxwell take over. Since then I’ve heard other people say the same thing, and there have been lots of crazy rumors about me.”
“I’ve heard a few of those. But correcting those folks doesn’t seem to make a difference. The grudge against the Maxwell name runs deep.”
She gave a short laugh. “I don’t know what anyone could say about me if they were being honest. I have no social life, I’ve never been sued or arrested, and I’ve never done a truly controversial thing in my life.”
Rafe set the sealed, clear plastic bag on her desk. “Well, someone either has a macabre sense of humor or is sending you a grisly message as a threat. And he—or she—came through one of those windows to do it.”
An uncontrollable shudder passed through Jolie as she stared at the red-haired doll in the bag. The crimson slashes painted across its trunk and extremities looked entirely too real.
“I’ll ask around,” Rafe said. He slipped the bag into a larger paper sack. “If I can lift any latent prints on the doll or in your clinic, I’ll check them against the prints on file for locals with a record. If nothing turns up, the latents will be sent on to the State Latent Examiner in Missoula.”
Jolie nodded. “Thanks.”
“Prints might not help, you understand. This was probably the work of local troublemakers who won’t have prints in the computer system.”
