Yuletide Jeopardy. Sandra Robbins
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and I must have nodded off. The phone woke me. Why are you calling?”
She hesitated a moment. “I don’t know if it means anything or not, but I just had a strange phone call.”
He sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”
“Someone called and wouldn’t tell me who it was. He said he has something he wants me to see.”
“So you think he must have some information about Landon’s death?”
“I do, but as the conversation progressed, he became sinister.”
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “Did he say he would call again?”
“No. He said he was going to hide whatever it is he has and he’ll send me a clue where it is. I thought you should know.”
He nodded. “I’m glad you called. Did he say anything else?”
She hesitated a moment. “He said I should be afraid of him.”
Alex exhaled and shook his head. “I don’t like the sound of that. Be careful, Grace. Don’t go to the parking lot alone when you leave work, and watch for anybody following you. Let me know if you hear from him again or if you receive anything from him.”
“I will. I’ll talk to you later.”
He disconnected the call and sighed. This was what he’d been afraid would happen. The calls were already beginning to come. Whether or not this one was legitimate remained to be seen. But no matter, Grace’s first thought had been to call him, and she’d probably do the same the next time something occurred that might affect the investigation.
The last thing he needed in his life was to spend time with Grace Kincaid, but it seemed that’s where he’d been headed ever since Timothy Mitchell decided to jump off the bridge. All he could do now was guard against renewing any kind of friendship with Grace. He was determined that wasn’t going to happen.
THREE
Grace pulled her car into her reserved parking spot at the television station and turned off the engine, but for some reason, she couldn’t make herself get out. She didn’t know if it was driving through the heavy morning traffic or her lack of sleep the night before that had left her feeling exhausted. She rubbed her hands over her eyes and tried to blot out the picture that had flashed in her mind during her sleepless night. Every time she’d closed her eyes, the scene on the bridge had popped into her mind. She saw herself grasping the bridge railing and staring down into Mr. Mitchell’s wild eyes.
Her wrist throbbed, and she massaged it. A shiver went up her spine. No matter how hard she’d tried, she couldn’t dispel the fear that flowed through her every time she thought of that moment.
She shook her head, took a deep breath and climbed out of the car. Thinking about what might have been was doing her no good. Today she would be thankful she was alive. She said a quick prayer of thanks as she headed into the building and down the hallway to her small office.
The minute she walked in the door she spotted the small box wrapped in brown paper on her desk. Her name and the address of the station were on the mailing label, but there were no stamps on the package. This had not come through the mail.
She was about to pick it up when a voice at the door startled her. “I see you found your delivery.”
Grace whirled to see Julie Colter, a new employee, standing in the doorway. “Good morning, Julie. Did you see who delivered this?”
“Yes, it was a private messenger service. The guy asked if I would give it to you and I said I would.”
Grace frowned. “Did you sign that you’d received the delivery?”
Julie shook her head. “No, he was gone before I had a chance to ask him.”
Grace sighed. “Do you know the name of the messenger service?”
Julie thought for a moment before she shook her head again. “No, he just said it was a special delivery for you. I guess I assumed he was from a service.” Julie’s eyebrows rose, and her face turned red. “Did I do something wrong, Miss Kincaid?”
Grace hesitated before she answered. “Sometimes our newscasts can upset some people. We don’t know who might send something harmful to us. We just need to be careful when accepting deliveries.”
Tears welled in Julie’s eyes, and she bit down on her lip. “Oh, Miss Kincaid, please don’t tell the station manager I did anything wrong. I need this job. If he fired me, I don’t know what I’d do.”
Grace reached out and patted Julie’s arm. “Now, now. Don’t get upset. Nobody’s going to get fired. You just need to be more careful in the future.”
Julie nodded. “I will. I promise. Now, is there anything I can do for you?”
“No, thank you.”
Julie eased toward the door. “Then I’ll get back to work, and I promise I won’t make that mistake again.”
Grace nodded and didn’t speak as the girl left the room. How many mistakes had Julie made since she was hired? It seemed the subject of Julie and her mishaps came up in the conversation no matter who you talked to at the station. She probably wouldn’t make it much longer if her work didn’t improve.
After a moment Grace turned her attention back to the package on her desk. Did it contain the clue her anonymous caller had told her about the day before? She leaned closer and studied the name and address on the mailing label. They had been typed, not handwritten, and there were no strings tied around the box, just tape to hold the paper.
Should she open it or not? Only a year ago a Memphis accountant had been injured when he opened an package that contained a bomb. Perhaps she should have Alex take a look at it or even dust it for fingerprints, but she would feel foolish if there was nothing threatening inside the envelope.
She pulled the tape loose and stepped back, then chuckled. If the box contained a bomb, a few steps away from the desk wouldn’t be enough distance to offer any protection. She eased back to the desk and loosened the package’s paper. It fell away to reveal a square box that looked to be about eight inches on each side.
Her heart pounded as she lifted the top of the box and peered inside. A folded piece of paper lay atop something wrapped in tissue paper. Frowning, she pulled the note out and unfolded it.
Dear Miss Kincaid,
I enjoyed our chat yesterday, and I have done as I promised. I have enclosed directions inside this box for the first stop on your journey. For a knowledgeable geocacher like you the puzzle should be no problem. Solve it, and you will find what I have left for you somewhere in the city. I will be watching to see if you are successful. I’m looking forward to our journey together as you find out the truth about Landon’s death.
Your Anonymous Friend
The words made Grace’s skin prickle, and she read the note several times before she reached in the box and pulled out the tissue-wrapped object. She tore the paper away and blinked her eyes in surprise at the six-sided puzzle cube she held. She slowly turned it and studied the twisty puzzle’s mixture of white, red, blue, orange, green and yellow squares. Someone had turned the faces many times to make sure the colors were thoroughly mixed over every surface.
Something written on one of the white squares caught her eye, and she stared closer at it. Her breath hitched in her throat. A quick glance over the other surfaces told her that more white squares had markings. GPS coordinates! Her caller had just sent her a challenge. Solve the puzzle by arranging all the white cubes on one side and she would have a location where she would find a clue about Landon’s killer.
She dropped down in her desk chair and began to twist the faces of the puzzle in an attempt to get all the white-colored surfaces on one side. After twenty minutes she was ready to throw the toy in the trash can. She’d played