Midnight Caller - By Diane Burke Page 0,8

times by mistake.”

Erin poured herself a mug of freshly brewed coffee and joined her aunt at the kitchen table. “Maybe it’s a telemarketer. These days a computer dials the number and connects to a salesperson only after you answer. It takes a bit for the connection to go through.”

“Uh-huh.” Tess pushed her bifocals down her nose and stared intently at her niece. “And I suppose you’re wearing your worry face because you’re afraid you might be missin’ the sale of a lifetime?”

Erin chuckled and sipped her coffee.

“I might be getting a little deaf, lass, but I’m not blind. Someone’s been calling this house at odd hours for the past four days and I never see you talking to anyone. What’s going on?”

Erin shrugged. “Honestly, Tess, I haven’t a clue. I answer. They don’t. End of story.”

“Don’t tell me ‘end of story.’ Did you write down the number from your caller ID?”

“There isn’t one. It just reads unknown name, unknown number.”

“You need to find out who it is.”

She patted the older woman’s hand. “Don’t get in a dither. It’s just some teenagers playing a prank. They’ll get tired and move on to someone else.” She carried her empty mug to the sink.

“Erin O’Malley, you sit back down here and listen to me.”

Erin, surprised at her aunt’s tone of voice, did as she was told.

“We’re not livin’ in the world I grew up in.” Tess waggled a finger at her. “Used to be you left your doors unlocked. You knew your neighbors and everybody watched out for everybody else. Today it’s a world of strangers. Nobody even takes the time to know the person livin’ right next door. There are more bad guys and less of a way to know who the bad guys are until it’s too late.”

The animation and emotion in her aunt’s face surprised Erin. “I never knew you had such strong feelings about this.”

“Why shouldn’t I? Age blesses one with wisdom, lass. We are two single women living alone with a handicapped child to protect. You need to be more concerned when something strange happens. How can you protect yourself, or us, if you don’t keep your eyes open to what’s going on around you? And what’s going on around you right now isn’t right. You need to fix it.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Erin asked, suddenly suspicious of her aunt’s true motives. “Call a cop? Or did you have a particular detective in mind?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tess ducked her head.

Erin almost laughed out loud at the expression on her aunt’s face when she realized her ploy hadn’t worked.

“Shame on you for trying to scare me,” Erin said.

“I’m speakin’ the truth,” Tess insisted. “If you used that brain of yours, you’d be smart enough to be scared.” Tess carried her own empty mug to the sink. “I don’t see how it could hurt to ask the detective’s advice. He’s expecting you to call him anyway. So do it.” She glanced over her shoulder. “And just so you know, I meant every word I said.”

“You’re right. I need to report the calls,” Erin said. “I would have called the police before now, but I really thought it was Billy Sanders. Remember last year when he harassed everybody in the neighborhood for days with heavy breathing and giggles?”

Tess nodded as she started washing her cup. “That boy needed a good swift kick in his…”

“Anyway,” Erin said. “I thought he was doing it again, so I went over to see his dad this morning.”

“Really? How’d that go?”

“It’s not Billy. His dad tells me the boy has straightened out. Joined a church youth group. Matter of fact, he was away this past weekend at a Christian teen camp.”

“Good for him,” Tess said. “So what are you going to do about the calls?”

Erin crossed the room and wrapped her arms around her aunt’s back, resting her cheek against the back of her head. “I am going to call that ‘fine, young detective’ you keep pushing down my throat. But you better know, old woman, that I’m on to you and your sneaky ways. I already made up my mind to call the detective. Calls or no calls. I want Jack to ride the bus with the boys.”

Tess squealed, turned around and pulled Erin to her despite the soap suds on her hands. “I knew you’d come to your senses. It just takes time for reasonable thoughts to get through your thick, Irish skull.”

“I love you, too,

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