Stalking Season. Sandra Robbins

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       ONE

      Cheyenne Cassidy ambled down the aisle of the Smoky Mountain Christmas Store and hummed along with the sound of Bing Crosby crooning “White Christmas” over the store’s intercom. With Christmas only a few weeks away, shoppers were out en masse today, and from what she’d been told by the locals the crowds would only get larger as more visitors came to the mountains in the next few weeks to see the decorations and take in all the Christmas festivities.

      The smells of cinnamon, pine and peppermint drifted in the air from the different areas of the store. Cheyenne stopped and blinked back tears at the reminder of her childhood and how their house had always smelled during the holidays. Her mother loved Christmas and had always been determined that her family would make memories to last a lifetime. Unfortunately these days, she had many memories of happy times, but the people she loved were no longer present to share them with her.

      The world as Cheyenne had known it had come to an abrupt halt six months ago with the deaths of her parents. Alone in the world and with her life in shreds, she’d done the only thing she could think to do—follow the rodeo circuit. Without her parents, though, it also had lost the allure it had once had. Now she was far away from the home she’d always known and starting a new life in a resort town in the Smoky Mountains. She’d wanted to settle somewhere, and the Smoky Mountains seemed the perfect place to do that.

      She sighed and walked down the aisle of a row of tall showcases holding all kinds of stuffed animals and dolls in Christmas outfits. The shelves in the case were packed with toys, and the display reached higher than her head. She stopped to stare at a teddy bear with a red ribbon around its head, and she suddenly stilled as her cell phone chimed that she had an incoming text message. She stared at the unfamiliar number displayed on the screen and frowned as she realized it was a video text.

      With a frown she tapped the screen, and the recording began to play. For a moment all she could do was stand there, her mouth hanging open and her body shaking. Her knees wobbled, and she reached out to grab a shelf to keep from falling. She blinked, in the hope that what she was seeing and hearing wasn’t really there, but she knew that wasn’t the case.

      Her eyes grew wide as the camera zoomed in on a tabletop, where a small, wooden music box sat. The top was lifted, and the tinkling melody of “Jack and Jill,” the nursery rhyme she and her father had sung together so many times, drifted out. The tune wasn’t what caused her breath to hitch in her throat, though. It was the fact that she knew right away that this wasn’t just any music box. It was the one her father had bought for her on her eighth birthday. The one that had disappeared from their house two years ago. The one she’d always known he took.

      But it couldn’t be him. He was dead. The police said so.

      With shaking fingers she stopped the video, but immediately the sound of another incoming text message from the same unknown number chimed. Swallowing the fear that gripped her, Cheyenne opened the text and stared at the words that seemed to wiggle on the screen. I’ve missed you. See you soon.

      A scream rose in her throat, and she clamped her hand over her mouth to keep it from escaping. She didn’t need all the clerks and customers rushing to her side and demanding to know what was the matter. Only a few people in this town knew her story, and she wanted to keep it that way.

      She took a deep breath and removed her hand from her mouth. With her gaze still fixed on the words on the screen, she bit down on her lip. Calm down, she told herself. This isn’t from him. It could be anybody who knew what had happened and was playing a sick joke.

      Suddenly a feeling that she was being watched swept over her. She’d had this happen many times in the past when he was stalking her, but it hadn’t happened since her parents’ deaths. She shook her head in denial. No, he was dead. He had to be dead. She couldn’t go through this anymore.

      At that moment her phone chimed again, and she looked down at it. Swallowing the fear that rose in her throat, she opened the text. I like that scarf you’re wearing. The blue color brings out the highlights in your hair.

      Her hand began to shake, and panic gripped her heart. With a swift twist of her head she looked around to see if she could detect someone watching her. There was no one, but suddenly she heard footsteps on the other side of the tall display case beside her. The smart thing to do would be to go to the end of the aisle and face whoever was there, but she’d learned two years ago that when it came to him, she wasn’t smart. She was scared, and she had to protect herself.

      She looked up and down the aisle to see if anyone else was nearby, but she seemed to be alone in this part of the store. She turned and hurried in the direction she’d come when entering the store. Before she could reach the exit, her phone rang with an incoming call. Against her better judgment, she connected the call.

      “H-hello.”

      “It’s good to hear your voice, Sunshine.”

      Her skin prickled, and she stood frozen in place, unable to move. The sickening feeling she’d experienced so often in the past spread through her, and she knew with certainty this wasn’t someone just trying to scare her. It really was him. Only he knew that nickname. It was the one he’d given her. Sunshine, because he said she’d lit up his world. For her it had only brought darkness into her life.

      “You’re not dead.” She meant it to be a question, but it came out as a statement.

      “No. Disappointed?”

      “Leave me alone,” she whispered. “I don’t want to do this again.”

      “You have no choice in the matter,” the familiar voice whispered. “Just like I had no say when you decided to break up with me for someone else.”

      Her heart pounded, and she wanted to run, but her body wouldn’t respond. “Why can’t you understand that we were never together?” she pleaded.

      A long sigh echoed in her ear. “Keep telling yourself that but you and I know the truth. I know you left quite a bit out of your story when you talked to the police.”

      A sob escaped her mouth. “Please, leave me alone.”

      “You led СКАЧАТЬ