Smokey's Distraction - Chiah Wilder Page 0,105

the coffee table, she went into the kitchen and poured a glass of white wine before making herself comfortable on the couch. Rifling through the mail, she saw a medium-sized manila envelope. There was no return address. It was just her name, printed on a label, with no other markings. Opening it, she pulled out a folded, single notebook page. Unfolding the paper, she sucked in a breath as she read I’M WATCHING YOU, the ominous message typed in bold, black and red letters. Turning the envelope upside down, several pictures fell out.

Her blood froze.

She stared at snapshots of her and Smokey. The photos showed them kissing, embracing, talking on the porch, standing in front of the family room window, and at the curb by his motorcycle. There were also a few pictures of her in the grocery store, walking inside the yoga center, and coming out of the office building.

“No,” she whispered, hearing the tremor in her voice.

Her hands shaking, the pictures fluttered to the floor. For a second, she couldn’t catch her breath.

Then she heard it: a scraping noise against the front door.

“The alarm—I forgot to set it!” Leaping from the couch, she scrambled to the foyer. With trembling fingers, she punched in the code, relief washing over her when the system activated.

Again, the noise. Though this time, it sounded more like footsteps running down the steps. It was like someone had been watching her through the window.

“Oh, no,” she whispered, too afraid to look out, but knowing she had to.

Stumbling to the window, she pulled the sheer curtain aside, only to look out at an empty street. I know I heard footsteps. Someone’s watching me—I know it. I have to call the police. No, they think I’m imagining all this. Smokey. I’ll—

Brrring!

The jarring sound of the landline from the kitchen startled her.

Heart pounding wildly, Ashley slowly walked toward the kitchen. No one but Zach ever called on that phone. Wait, Mark has the number. He’s called me a few times on it.

Brrring!

Her hand hovered over the receiver.

Brrring!

“Hello?” she answered, expecting to hear Zach’s voice.

Silence.

Pushing the fear away, she repeated, “Hello?”

“How did you like my package?” a male voice whispered in a low, sexy voice.

“Who is this?”

A deep chuckle echoed over the line. “Someone who is going to make sure you get what you deserve.”

“Mark, I know it’s you.” But she didn’t know that. In fact, it didn’t sound like Mark at all, but she was grasping at straws while trying to keep the panic clawing at her chest at bay.

“You need to try harder, Ashley.” The voice wasn’t menacing or cruel. It was seductive, almost caressing.

“Why are you doing this? Leave me alone,” she said, trying to keep her voice from cracking.

“I’m not going to leave you alone, Ashley. I have some very special plans for you.”

“I’m calling the police.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” A husky laugh filled her ears. “I’m watching you.”

The line went dead. The voice on the phone echoed through her head as terror engulfed her. She dashed over to the control box again and double-checked the alarm. Rushing back to the family room, she glanced out the window to make sure no one was there. The street was still empty and quiet. Darting over to the couch, she picked up her cell phone and dialed Smokey’s number.

“Hey, darlin’,” he answered in a husky voice.

“Someone’s watching me,” she blurted out.

“What do you mean?” Concern wove through his tone.

“He just called me. He said he’s watching me. He knew I got the pictures, so that proves he is watching me. I don’t know what to do.”

“Is the alarm on?”

“Yes. I just checked it again. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Stay put. If something happens, call the badges. I’m on my way.”

“Okay. Please hurry,” she whispered.

“I’m getting on my bike now, darlin’. I’ll be there soon.”

Ashley sank down on the couch and stared at the wall as she waited for Smokey to arrive. The stranger’s voice played in her head over and over, as if stuck on rewind. Clasping her hands tightly in her lap, she counted down the minutes until Smokey showed.

It didn’t even feel as though that much time had passed before she heard the rumble of Smokey’s motorcycle. Jumping from the couch, she ran to the door and peered out the window. As soon as she saw his Harley pull up in front of the house, she disengaged the alarm and flung open the door.

Smokey hurried up the sidewalk, and when he

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