Sandra Robbins - Stalking Season

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YULETIDE STALKINGMoving to the Smoky Mountains at Christmastime, Cheyenne Cassidy is ready for a fresh start—until danger from her past follows her to her new home. Cheyenne believed the stalker who killed her parents was dead, but somehow he’s back and determined to kill her. And her only hope for survival is relying on Deputy Sheriff Luke Conrad. The lawman wants to help Cheyenne face down the obsessive madman, but he can’t protect her if he doesn’t know the full story. And Cheyenne has no choice but to trust him with a secret she’s never revealed about her stalker. Armed with the knowledge of her tragic past, Luke will put his life on the line to keep her alive…but will that be enough to save her?

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Cheyenne waved her hand in dismissal. “No problem. I enjoy having her there. I find myself checking my watch to see when she’s going to get off the school bus so I can see her.” She paused for a moment. “I also enjoy being here with you and Gwen and Shorty and Emmett and all the people who work here. I haven’t felt so comfortable in a long time.”

“We’re glad to have you. There’s something about living in the Smoky Mountains that makes a person think they’ve come home to the place where they were meant to be.”

Cheyenne nodded. “I know. I’m beginning to feel that way.”

“Well, you and Patches are welcome to stay here as long as you want.” Dean took a deep breath. “So how did the shopping trip go?”

Cheyenne hesitated for a moment and swallowed hard before she answered. “I-it was fine.”

Dean directed a sharp look at her and cocked an eyebrow. “Did something happen?”

She shook her head. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

She started to walk away but Dean reached out and touched her arm. “Cheyenne, I used to be a police officer. I know when there’s something bothering a person. Did you have some kind of problem?”

For a moment she debated what to say. Dean and Gwen knew her story, but she didn’t want to put them or their child in danger by keeping silent. “I kinda got hit by a car,” she said.

“Did you have a fender bender? I didn’t see any damage to your truck when you drove up.”

“No. I walked out in front of a car without looking, and it hit me. Fortunately, I wasn’t hurt.”

Concern lined his face, and he studied her as if searching for injuries. “Are you sure you’re all right? Gwen is in the kitchen. She can take you to our doctor to get you checked out.”

Cheyenne shook her head. “That’s not necessary. Luke called 911, and the paramedics checked me out. They said I was fine.”

“Luke?”

“Yes, Luke Conrad. He’s the one who hit me.” She bit down on her lip as her face grew warm. “He was in his patrol car.”

He stared at her for a moment. “Luke Conrad is a friend of mine. I hope you won’t blame him.”

“Oh, I don’t. It was all my fault. I should have been watching where I was going.”

Dean studied her for a moment. “I have the feeling that there’s more to the story. What aren’t you telling me?”

Before she realized what she was doing, she began to tell Dean the story of what had happened in the store. When she finished, she flinched at the grim expression on his face. “I’d say this is serious, Cheyenne, and we can’t take it lightly. We need to find this person whether he’s your stalker or somebody trying to scare you.”

“I know that, Dean. But I don’t know where to start. Luke made me promise to call if I needed him.”

“It goes without saying that you can do the same with us. I don’t want anything to happen to you. You’ve suffered enough from this guy. It’s time he was stopped.” He paused a moment. “Maybe you don’t need to ride until we know for sure what’s going on.”

“I can’t drop out right now. My appearance has been advertised, and I don’t want Bill to have to deal with any disgruntled customers who come to see me. Don’t you worry. I’ll stay close to the other performers and keep an eye out for anything out of place.”

Dean frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know, Cheyenne. I think you should postpone your appearance.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.” She took a deep breath. “Now I’m going upstairs to get my fancy costume with all the glitter on it, and then I’m going to load Patches in my trailer. Then if Shorty has anything ready, I’ll grab something to eat. I need to leave and get to the arena early so that I can get Patches used to the place before the show starts.”

Before Dean could protest, Gwen walked into the room from the direction of the kitchen. A worried look lined her face as she wiped her hands on a dish towel as she approached. “Cheyenne, I didn’t know you were home.” She walked over, grasped Cheyenne’s arms and stared into her face. “Are you all right? I just heard about your accident.”

Cheyenne’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. “You did? How did you know about it?”

“Clara, the dispatcher at the sheriff’s office, called and told me. She said Luke Conrad brought you in to make a statement about it.”

Cheyenne frowned and looked from Dean to Gwen. “I don’t understand why she’d call to check on me. I only met her this afternoon.”

Dean chuckled. “Oh, I expect it was more than a friendly check on how you were doing. She was trying to find out how you were so she could broadcast it to the rest of the locals.”

“Broadcast it? You mean she’s like on the radio or TV?”

Gwen laughed. “No, but she’s quicker than any text message you’ve ever seen. She knows everything that’s going on and makes sure everybody else does, too.”

“Oh, I see.”

Gwen crossed her arms and smiled. “In fact she seemed to think that Luke Conrad was quite smitten with you.”

“Well, I don’t know where she got that idea,” Cheyenne said in a huffing voice. “I gave him my statement, he drove me back to my truck and I came home. That’s all there was to it.”

Dean held up his hands in front of him and nodded. “Okay, if that’s the way you want it. But folks around her are friendly, and you’ll find that you’ll like a lot of them, Clara included. And Luke is a great guy. You’ll really like him when you get to know him.”

“Thanks. But I don’t plan on getting to know him. I’m content just to be here with all the people at Little Pigeon.”

“Whatever you say,” Gwen said as she looped her arm through her husband’s and smiled up at him. “Why don’t you come out to the kitchen, Dean, and help Shorty and me get dinner ready? We have quite a few guests eating with us tonight.”

He leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. “Anything for you, darling.”

She laughed, and they turned to walk toward the kitchen. Gwen suddenly stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “Oh, I forgot, Cheyenne. You have a letter on the hall table.”

Her body stiffened, and the muscles in her back and shoulders tensed. Who could know where to send her a letter? “Mail? For me?”

Gwen nodded. “Yes. I left it there for you.”

Cheyenne waited until Gwen and Dean were out of sight before she walked to the table in the hallway where a small, sky blue envelope with her name and the address of the ranch on it lay. Her fingers shook as she picked up the letter and stared at it for a moment. Then, she took a deep breath, ran her fingernail under the flap and opened the envelope. It contained a single piece of paper of the same color.

The letter was folded in half, and she hesitated a moment before she unfolded it. For a few seconds all she could do was stare at the image of a white rose at the top of the page. She began to shake as her eyes traveled down to the words written beneath it.

“No, no, no, no,” she whispered over and over as she staggered backward until she felt the wall behind her. She took several deep breaths and looked down at the letter still clutched in her hand.

Hello, darling. I’ll see you soon.

No matter how much she might want to believe he was dead, he wasn’t. He was right here in the mountains, where she’d escaped to in hopes of finding peace, and he wasn’t going to leave her alone until he got what he wanted. This time he wasn’t going to be satisfied with stealing items from her room or following her wherever she went. She had no doubt this time he meant to kill her.

* * *

Luke Conrad glanced at his watch as he hurried toward the building that housed the indoor arena for Bill Johnson’s Smoky Mountain Wild West Show. It had taken him longer to finish his work at the sheriff’s office than he’d thought, and he had rushed to get here on time. Even with traffic as heavy as it was in town tonight, he still had about fifteen minutes before the show started.

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