Final Warning. Sandra Robbins

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СКАЧАТЬ I want everybody to know about our little game. I sent a riddle telling you I’m going to kill somebody. The only way to stop me is for you to solve it.”

      C.J. glared at Harley who appeared to be enjoying every word of the exchange. “Okay, I’ve heard enough. I don’t appreciate practical jokes.”

      A long sigh came over the line. “I assure you this is no joke. Maybe you don’t understand. Someone is about to die, and only you can save them.”

      She swallowed and struggled to speak. “Wh-who’s going to d-die?”

      Fala’s exasperated sigh sent chills down C.J.’s spine. “You disappoint me, C.J. Instead of trying to figure out the riddle, you expect me to tell you the answer. That’s against the rules. If you want to win, you have to do it on your own.”

      She sat silent, her mind whirling, but Harley motioned for her to keep the caller talking. No dead air—one of his cardinal rules.

      She straightened in her chair and tried again. “Okay, Fala—if that’s your real name—tell me more about this game you’re playing that’s going to end in someone’s death. Surely you don’t expect me to believe that, do you?”

      A shrill laugh echoed in C.J.’s ear. “You’d better believe it. I’m not afraid to kill.”

      C.J.’s. shaking fingers clutched the edge of the console. “But why would you do such a horrible thing?”

      “Maybe it’s because of the look in their eyes.”

      “What do you mean?”

      There was a moment of hesitation. “Because they never expect it. And when they realize what’s happening, it’s too late.”

      This was escalating into a horrible nightmare. Mitch’s warning flashed into her mind, but she pushed it aside. “Fala, you can’t be serious.”

      The laughter increased. “Oh, but I am. I’m about to kill someone, somewhere in Oxford, and the only way you can stop me is to figure out the riddle. If you haven’t done it yet, you’re not going to. So this one’s for you, C.J.”

      The phone clicked in her ear, leaving behind a dead silence that chilled her blood and sent goose bumps flying over her flesh. Harley’s clenched fist shot into the air, and he mouthed a big “All right” as the board lit up with calls.

      C.J. covered her face with her hands and shook. Never in her life had she heard such hatred in a voice. Could Fala be telling the truth? Was someone about to die?

      All she could do was hope it was someone playing a joke on her. But something told her that Fala meant every word he said.

      When C.J. switched the last caller off, she stormed out of the broadcast booth. Harley, his face filled with satisfaction, grinned at her. “Some night, huh? Your ratings ought to go through the roof tomorrow.”

      “Harley,” she yelled, “how could you let that person stay on the line?”

      He reached out toward her, but she swatted his hand away. His face creased into the little boy look she’d come to recognize as his way of saying I-want-my-way. “Now, C.J., you have to expect these crazies to come out of the woodwork every once in a while. You gotta use them to build your audience appeal. That’s all I was doing.”

      “But he said he was going to kill somebody!”

      “Aw, don’t pay any attention to that,” he purred. “Whoever it was just wanted fifteen minutes of fame, and I gave it to him. You’ll never hear from Fala again.”

      C.J. crossed her arms and shook her head. “You don’t know that.”

      Harley began to shut the console off. “Come on. The satellite programming has taken over. Let’s go home. I’ll walk you to your car.”

      C.J. hugged her arms around her body and shivered. By this time it would be dark outside, and she didn’t want to walk into that parking lot alone. “Okay, let me get my coat, and we’ll go.”

      Walking back to her office, she looked over her shoulder with each step. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something evil had invaded WLMT.

      The wooded area across from WLMT provided the perfect place to observe the radio station. Three of the tall letters on the flat roof burned this evening and cast an outline of the boxlike, two-story brick building against the night sky. Office lights on the second floor went out. Harley and C.J. must be getting ready to leave. Fala pulled the coat pocket open and dropped the cell phone into it.

      C.J. had been scared all right. It was evident in the way her voice trembled. Would she walk to her car alone? No, she’d be afraid that Fala would be waiting.

      I’m close, C.J. Can you see me?

      The door to the station opened and Harley Martin escorted C.J. to her car. She got in, rolled the window down and spoke to him. He nodded and walked around the car, testing the locks on each door. When he’d finished, he waved, and jogged back to his truck. C.J. waited until he pulled up behind her before she drove into the street.

      “Oh, C.J., you’re so predictable. That’s what makes you such an easy target,” Fala muttered.

      With excitement growing at what lay ahead, Fala turned and strode back through the trees to the car on the other side of the woods. Moonlight drifted through the bare branches. A cat chewed on the carcass of a dead bird at the end of the path. A well-placed kick sent the feline darting away.

      Fala’s gloved hand picked up the bird’s lifeless form and caressed it. The smell of death drifted upward. It radiated through his every pore and set his every sense on fire.

      The hand holding the bird’s body shot toward the sky. “Let the game begin!”

      THREE

      5:00 a.m.

      The bedside clock glowed in the early morning darkness. C.J. moaned and pounded her pillow into shape once more. Last night, when she had arrived home and checked her computer, she saw that another e-mail had awaited her. With shaking fingers she opened the message and read it, her eyes growing wider with each word.

      You didn’t guess, my first move’s through,

      Someone now is blaming you.

      You should have stopped my fun-filled spree,

      Death surrounds you, wait and see.

      Fala

      Chilled by the reminder of a maniacal laugh and a sinister message, she had cowered underneath the covers.

      With a groan, she sat up in bed. She couldn’t sleep anymore because of her worry about Fala’s e-mail, so she decided to go for a morning run to distract herself.

      A few minutes later she walked into the kitchen. Dressed in sweats, her key ring hanging from her wrist, she adjusted the band covering her ears and headed into the cold. Very few lights burned in the neighborhood houses on the street. How she envied those sleeping peacefully in their beds.

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