“I just don’t understand what’s going on with the authorities,” Quinn said to her white Persian cat Bathsheba as the feline rubbed up against her bare legs. “What am I missing? What are we all missing?”
A loud crack of glass followed by her car alarm shrieking had her dropping her pastry on the plate and the newspaper rustling out of her hands before she rushed outside, licking her fingers of the sticky syrup. She saw the backside of someone in a black hoody disappearing into the wooded tree line on the property.
From the front porch of her carriage house, she saw that the windshield of her Honda Accord had been smashed with something heavy. She hurried back inside to get her car keys to turn off the alarm before it woke up Dr. Mayhew and his family who now lived in her grandmother’s house opposite hers. She grabbed her phone as well to call the police, but she wasn’t sure what good that would do. She’d been antagonizing them with her articles for the past several months without any results trying to get action on the Barbie Martin case. She was certain they’d rush right over to her house.
When she got to her car, she opened the front door and saw it was a brick that had been thrown through her windshield with a note secured around it with a rubber band. She carefully removed the paper and held it up by the corners to read, hoping to preserve any fingerprints.
Stop the articles or you die!
The message was spelled out in magazine headline print. Not very original.
She dropped the paperback on the car seat and stumbled away from her car, glancing around her to see if anyone was watching. Then without caring whether the police responded, she dialed 9-1-1.
“Altoona 9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”
“I’d like to report that someone has thrown a brick through my windshield and left a note threatening my life. This is Quinlan Moynahan with the Altoona Observer.”
“Oh,” the operator said. “Is the intruder still there?”
“I saw someone running away when I came out of the house. I don’t think anyone is still around.”
“Go back inside your house and lock your doors until the authorities arrive. Our system shows you are calling from 54 Whistler Lane. Is that correct?”
“Yes. The carriage house in the back. Not the main. That belongs to Dr. Mayhew and his family.”
“Okay. I will send someone out.”
“And they will come?” Quinn asked.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Thank you.” She hung up and went inside. Bathsheba greeted her on the doorstep. The housecat never ventured outdoors. She scooped her up and locked the door behind her. Then she went to call Sheraton, her editor, and let him know she’d be late for work.
“This doesn’t surprise me at all,” he said. “And you’re certain you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Just pissed that I pay my car off and now this happens.”
“You still got full coverage on your insurance. It should cover the repairs,” he reminded her. “I’ll swing by and pick you up.”
“Thanks,” she hung up and went to get dressed while she waited for the police to arrive.
They did it in record time. Two female patrol officers pulled up in their car with the lights flashing. And they were very thorough in their inspection of the crime scene.
“Scumbags,” one muttered as she took pictures of the damage.
“And you said you touched the note, but only on the corner,” the other officer asked as she slipped on latex gloves to pick it up.
“Yes, I didn’t want to destroy any evidence if there was any. I guess I could have waited until I called 9-1-1, but I needed to know if it was a threat or not before I called so you’d know if there was urgency in the matter.”
“Wasn’t the brick enough?” the camera officer asked.
“No, you did right. I would have wanted to have known too if it were me,” the officer processing the evidence said.
“Although whoever did the message used cut-out letters from a magazine and they probably handled those with tweezers. I took a forensics evidence class in college. And this is a classic movie,” Quinn said.
“We’ve seen it before, too.” The officer with the camera lowered it and gave her a waned smile. “Still, the lab might get lucky and find a print of the paper the letters were placed on. We’ll bag it.”
“And take the brick as well as the rubber band that is around it. I assume that was holding the message to the brick?”
