from the street. “C’mon, let’s go.” He put an arm around her shoulders and escorted her the half block to her door. The doorman gave her a questioning look.
“It’s okay, Irving, I know him.” She didn’t, not really. But his concern seemed genuine.
Once in the safety of her building’s beautiful lobby, she took a few deep breaths.
“Tell me what happened,” Griffin said gently.
She couldn’t help herself—she spilled everything. “Anonymous caller. He was using something to change his voice, so he sounded like a robot, or a computer.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Not in so many words. But he was watching me. He knew what I was wearing. Oh, God, it was so creepy.”
It had to be the same person who’d given Griffin the bogus information, and made the deposit. Which meant Griffin was right. Her enemy was upping the stakes. His veiled threat could mean anything, up to and including physical harm.
“You should call the police,” Griffin said.
“Yes. Right.” She still had her cell phone in her hand. Halfway through dialing 911, however, she stopped. “The police won’t care. They have better things to do than track down crank callers.”
She knew the drill. First of all, they couldn’t get access to cell phone records without a court order. Even if she cleared that hurdle, tracking down the call wouldn’t help. Her caller could have used a pay phone or a throwaway cell. Criminals were savvy these days. They watched crime shows like everyone else and knew how other criminals had been tripped up.
But the police wouldn’t go to that much trouble, anyway. They would write it off as a joke or assume she was trying to generate publicity to support some crazy conspiracy theory regarding Anthony. She wasn’t exactly tops on their list of lovable people right now, since proving Anthony’s innocence would be a huge embarrassment to them.
She would tell Daniel about it. He had access to all kinds of security experts and bodyguards. He would know what measures were appropriate. Daniel didn’t much care for law enforcement, as a rule, and could she blame him, after he’d spent six years on death row?
“Should I be worried that you’re still watching me?” Raleigh asked. “You did receive the email I sent, right? With the real cell phone bill, and the names of the bank employees?”
If he heard her question, he was ignoring it. “I knew there was a story here. I couldn’t give up. And I was right. Someone is out to get you.”
Raleigh’s knees felt shaky. “I could use a glass of wine. How about you?” It was the least she could do after he’d come to her rescue. He’d seemed genuinely concerned.
Unless…he’d been the one to make the call? How stupid could she be that she hadn’t considered that possibility before? Quite a coincidence, Griffin just happening to be Johnny-on-the-spot when she received a personal threat.
She should have told him to hit the road. But that seemed ungrateful.
Touching her wedding ring, she winced. Sorry, Jason. She was rattled, and not thinking or acting like her usual self. But she had to admit, as scared as she was about that phone call, she didn’t mind having a strong, capable male in full protective mode watching out for her.
Raleigh wiped her damp palms on her sweatpants, wishing she was still wearing her suit, her armor against the world. The gray knit fabric molded to her body, revealing more than she was comfortable with.
As they entered her apartment, she remembered how hard he’d been to remove last time he was here. She set Copper down and went to the kitchen, where she got him some fresh kibbles. Griffin followed her.
“You look like you’re wound up tighter than a broken watch. You said something about wine?”
Her hands were folded into fists and her jaw was clenched. The veins in her neck were probably sticking out. She tried to relax. Why had she offered him wine? She wanted to smack her forehead for giving in to that
“It’s okay, Irving, I know him.” She didn’t, not really. But his concern seemed genuine.
Once in the safety of her building’s beautiful lobby, she took a few deep breaths.
“Tell me what happened,” Griffin said gently.
She couldn’t help herself—she spilled everything. “Anonymous caller. He was using something to change his voice, so he sounded like a robot, or a computer.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Not in so many words. But he was watching me. He knew what I was wearing. Oh, God, it was so creepy.”
It had to be the same person who’d given Griffin the bogus information, and made the deposit. Which meant Griffin was right. Her enemy was upping the stakes. His veiled threat could mean anything, up to and including physical harm.
“You should call the police,” Griffin said.
“Yes. Right.” She still had her cell phone in her hand. Halfway through dialing 911, however, she stopped. “The police won’t care. They have better things to do than track down crank callers.”
She knew the drill. First of all, they couldn’t get access to cell phone records without a court order. Even if she cleared that hurdle, tracking down the call wouldn’t help. Her caller could have used a pay phone or a throwaway cell. Criminals were savvy these days. They watched crime shows like everyone else and knew how other criminals had been tripped up.
But the police wouldn’t go to that much trouble, anyway. They would write it off as a joke or assume she was trying to generate publicity to support some crazy conspiracy theory regarding Anthony. She wasn’t exactly tops on their list of lovable people right now, since proving Anthony’s innocence would be a huge embarrassment to them.
She would tell Daniel about it. He had access to all kinds of security experts and bodyguards. He would know what measures were appropriate. Daniel didn’t much care for law enforcement, as a rule, and could she blame him, after he’d spent six years on death row?
“Should I be worried that you’re still watching me?” Raleigh asked. “You did receive the email I sent, right? With the real cell phone bill, and the names of the bank employees?”
If he heard her question, he was ignoring it. “I knew there was a story here. I couldn’t give up. And I was right. Someone is out to get you.”
Raleigh’s knees felt shaky. “I could use a glass of wine. How about you?” It was the least she could do after he’d come to her rescue. He’d seemed genuinely concerned.
Unless…he’d been the one to make the call? How stupid could she be that she hadn’t considered that possibility before? Quite a coincidence, Griffin just happening to be Johnny-on-the-spot when she received a personal threat.
She should have told him to hit the road. But that seemed ungrateful.
Touching her wedding ring, she winced. Sorry, Jason. She was rattled, and not thinking or acting like her usual self. But she had to admit, as scared as she was about that phone call, she didn’t mind having a strong, capable male in full protective mode watching out for her.
Raleigh wiped her damp palms on her sweatpants, wishing she was still wearing her suit, her armor against the world. The gray knit fabric molded to her body, revealing more than she was comfortable with.
As they entered her apartment, she remembered how hard he’d been to remove last time he was here. She set Copper down and went to the kitchen, where she got him some fresh kibbles. Griffin followed her.
“You look like you’re wound up tighter than a broken watch. You said something about wine?”
Her hands were folded into fists and her jaw was clenched. The veins in her neck were probably sticking out. She tried to relax. Why had she offered him wine? She wanted to smack her forehead for giving in to that
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