Sandra Robbins - Stalking Season

Luke opened a notepad and wrote something before he glanced back up at her. “Go on.”

Cheyenne took a deep breath. “Well, we’ve already established the facts that I am Cheyenne Cassidy, I moved here a few weeks ago to become a trick rider with the Wild West show and, as Clara has let you know, I’m living at Little Pigeon Ranch.”

A smile tugged at his mouth. “Clara is very good at her job, but she has a nose for news. She keeps up with everyone in town. Don’t take offense.”

“I won’t. It just surprised me that she knew.” She settled back in her chair. “I moved to Pigeon Forge from Wyoming. My family raised horses on a ranch there, and my father coached the rodeo team at a college nearby. Ever since I can remember, my parents competed in rodeos. My mother did barrel racing and my father was a bronc rider. I started doing trick riding when I was young and began performing on the circuit with them when I was still in elementary school. I’ve been doing it ever since, until recently, when I decided to give it up.”

“Why did you quit?”

Cheyenne closed her eyes and let the memories she tried to keep at bay enter her mind. “About two years ago I started getting anonymous messages and flowers, always white roses, from a secret admirer. Everywhere I went I felt like I was being followed. Sometimes I would catch a glimpse of a man in the shadows, but he was smart enough not to let me ever see his face. At first his messages were filled with words of how much he loved me, but that all changed when I starting dating a cowboy on the rodeo circuit. Then they became threatening and filled with ultimatums.”

“What kind of ultimatums?”

“He’d write things telling me I was his and if I didn’t want something to happen to my boyfriend, I’d better break up with him.”

Luke quit writing and looked up at her. “So what did you do?”

Cheyenne’s shoulders sagged. “I broke up with him. I was about to have a nervous breakdown, but that didn’t stop him. He broke into our house several times when we were away. The last time he did, he completely destroyed my room. The only thing missing, however, was a music box my father had given me years before.”

Luke glanced up at her and pursed his lips. “It sounds like he was following a pattern.”

“What do you mean?” Cheyenne asked.

“There are stages that stalkers progress through when they become obsessed with someone. The early stages include things like uncomfortable contact, intimidation and then threatening messages. Things begin to get out of hand when the stalker starts to destroy personal property.”

Cheyenne’s eyes narrowed, and she nodded. “That’s exactly how it progressed over a period of two years, but the police could never catch him. Then six months ago my mother and father left for a rodeo, but I didn’t go. He’d sent me a note telling me that we were finally going to meet, and I was scared. I stayed with some friends. While my folks were at the rodeo, somebody broke into the trailer where they were sleeping and murdered both of them.”

Luke’s lips clamped together and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “They were murdered?” he asked as if he couldn’t believe what she’d just said.

“Yes.”

“Did they find out who did it?”

Cheyenne shook her head. “That’s still a subject for debate. The police suspected it was the man who’d been stalking me because the killer left a note saying that their deaths were my punishment because I’d been unfaithful to him and hadn’t come to meet him. There were white roses scattered over my parents’ bodies.”

“So your stalker killed your parents.”

“That’s what the police thought. A few days after the murder, they found the body of Clint Shelton, a rodeo worker, in his truck. He’d left a note saying he couldn’t live with himself any longer, that he’d killed my parents because I had rejected him.”

“You don’t sound like you’re convinced this Shelton guy did it.”

She shook her head. “It just never made sense to me. I barely knew Clint. He was one of the best hazers in the business, but we weren’t friends. He was engaged to be married, so I couldn’t understand why he would become fixated on me.”

“But the police disagreed?”

“Yes. The detective who was in charge of the case was eager to close it, and he took the suicide note as proof that Clint was the killer. There was no DNA or any physical evidence that put him at the scene, though.”

Luke sat back in his chair a moment and stared at her as he tapped the pen he held on the desk. “Wow, I can’t believe all this. You’ve been through a terrible time.”

Cheyenne nodded. “Yes, I have. I tried to stay on the rodeo circuit, but after a few months I knew it would never be the same without my parents. That’s when Bill Johnson, who owns the Wild West show, contacted me. He was a friend of my father’s. In fact, his son Trace was on the rodeo team my father coached, and he has always been a close friend of mine. They wanted to help me put all my bad memories behind, so they offered me a job. Trace got it arranged for me to live out at Dean and Gwen’s ranch.”

After a moment Luke leaned forward and tilted his head to one side. “So I suppose that brings us to today. What happened that made you run into traffic without looking at where you were going?”

A chill ran up Cheyenne’s back as she recalled the incident inside the store. Then she began to speak, and the words poured out of her. She told him of the video of the stolen music box, and the cryptic text messages and phone call that told her he was going to give her one more chance to be with him.

“He accused me of being the reason my parents were dead, that I had turned him into a killer. But he said that he’d forgiven me and was going to give me one more chance to be with him.” She blinked back tears. “The way he said it made me think that if I rejected him again I would pay for it. That sounds like a death threat to me.”

Luke nodded. “It does to me, too. I think you should take this warning seriously.”

She held up her hands in despair. “But what can I do? He’s eluded everybody for the last two years. I don’t want to move again to try and hide from him. I want this nightmare to be out of my life.”

“I understand,” Luke said, “and our department will do everything we can to make sure you’re protected. I think you should think about postponing your debut at the Wild West show until we know more about what’s going on.”

Cheyenne shook her head. “I can’t do that. Bill has advertised that Cheyenne Cassidy, three-time women’s winner in the International Trick Riding Competition, will be making her debut appearance. He’s almost sold out for tonight’s performance, so I can’t let him down.”

“Still,” Luke began, “I think—”

She pushed to her feet and clasped her hands in front of her. “I know you’re trying to help, and I appreciate it. But I need to get through tonight and then decide what I’m going to do.”

He stared at her for a moment as if he was going to argue. Then he let out a deep breath and pushed to his feet. “Then let me suggest that you stay close to someone you know. Don’t be alone at any time, and as soon as the show is finished, go home.”

“I can do that.”

“Good. Then I’ll come by Little Pigeon Ranch tomorrow and check on you.”

Neither one of them said anything for a few minutes as they stared at each other. Then Cheyenne stuck out her hand and tried to smile. “Thank you, Deputy Conrad, for being so nice to me today. I appreciate your concern, and I promise I’ll be very aware of my surroundings.”

His fingers wrapped around hers and he smiled. “I thought you were going to call me Luke.”