Silent Night 3(25)
“Don’t try,” Reva whispered back in a throaty voice. “Do it!”
• • •
As Grant drove Reva home a little while later, Reva leaned her head back and gazed out the car window.
Shadyside looked like a Christmas-card town. Snow on the ground. Wreaths on the telephone poles. Snowmen in the yards and colored lights strung on every tree and bush.
I wish I could get into the spirit, Reva thought. Maybe when the scarf show is a hit, I’ll feel more in the mood.
At home on the porch, she gave Grant a long kiss. “I can’t wait to see you again,” she murmured, her lips against his cheek. “Let’s meet again tomorrow, after I’m finished working.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Of course.” Reva glanced at him. “Why? You don’t have other plans, do you?”
Grant hesitated for just a second, then shook his head. “I’m all yours, Reva.”
“Good. That’s the way I like it.” She kissed him again, then slipped into the house. It was only eight-thirty. Not wanting to spend any time with Grace, she ran quietly up the stairs and tiptoed past Grace’s room to her own.
As she opened her door, the phone rang.
Grant? she wondered hopefully.
No, he just left. And his car didn’t have a phone.
It’s probably Pam, she decided. Pam the Pest. Honestly, doesn’t she realize that I have more important things to think about than a business contract with her? Doesn’t she know that without me, the only way she and Willow can sell those scarves is to peddle them on the street?
For a second, Reva was tempted not to answer the phone. But she changed her mind. Before the phone could ring a third time, Reva hurried across the room and snatched it up. “Yes?” she answered impatiently.
“Reva.”
The voice was low and raspy. It didn’t belong to Pam. It didn’t belong to anyone Reva knew. “Yes?” she repeated. “Who is this?”
“That doesn’t matter,” the caller rasped.
“What are you—”
“Shut up, Reva! Just listen to what I say. Are you listening?”
Reva gripped the phone and nodded.
“Are you?” the voice demanded angrily.
“Yes! I’m listening!” Reva replied.
“You deserve what Traci got.”
Traci! A chill of fear ran down Reva’s spine.
“Did you hear me, Reva?” the caller rasped. “I’ll tell you again just in case you missed it. You deserve what Traci got!”
Chapter 16
THE MURDERED
“Who is this?” Reva demanded again.
“Traci is dead, the caller whispered, ignoring Reva’s question. “Remember how she died?”
The image of Traci flashed into Reva’s mind. Hanging from the pole, her eyes bulging lifelessly.
Blood snaking down her jacket.
The caller gave a short, vicious laugh. “Come on, Reva, you know exactly what I mean!”
Murder! That’s what the caller meant. That Reva should be murdered, just like Traci.
Reva gripped the phone, almost frozen with fear. She was actually talking with Traci’s killer—and now the killer was after her!
“I wish I could see you right now, Reva,” the caller whispered. “You’re probably shaking, wondering where to hide.”
Without meaning to, Reva glanced at her reflection in the mirror across the room. The caller was right—she looked terrified. Pale and big-eyed and helpless.
Get a grip, she thought, scowling at herself. You’re not in danger. Not at the moment anyway.
And you’re not helpless, either.
Quickly, Reva stared down at the phone. Thank goodness for caller I.D. She yanked open the nightstand drawer, grabbed a pencil and her telephone book, and copied the caller’s number from the caller I.D. screen.
“Remember what I said, Reva,” the voice rasped. “I’ll be in touch.”
The caller hung up.
You’re not going to be in touch with anybody, Reva thought.
Smiling grimly, she punched in the number of the Shadyside Police Department.
“This is Reva Dalby,” she announced to the officer who answered. “I want to talk to Detective Blake.”
“What’s this about?” the officer asked in a bored tone.
“It’s about Traci Meecham,” Reva said. “Tell Detective Blake that I just got a call from her murderer. A threatening call.” She paused dramatically. “I also have the number the call was made from.”
Sounding more interested, the officer took the number and told Reva to wait for a call back.
Twenty minutes later, the phone rang. “Miss Dalby, this is Detective Blake. We picked up your caller. We’d like you to come down to the station and make an identification.”