I contacted Officer Lopez and told her about my grandkids, and she agreed not leaving and having the kids not come back here was a good idea. I’m alone until Brock gets home, which may not be until later tonight. Before getting off the phone with me, he said he would try to get home earlier. I peer through the blinds and see Officer Lopez’s police car but no one other car. I can’t let this fear get to me. It’s been a couple of weeks since I put on a YouTube show. Sometimes, in the winter, I would open my mail and do a Q&A. It’s been some time since I did one, so maybe this will help occupy the day.
I had gone to my P.O. box a week ago and grabbed all my mail. It’s sitting in a box in my closet, so I open the front closet, pull out the box, and start sifting through the letters. I open several of them to use in my video and then see one without an address. It’s not entirely odd since some don’t want me to know their address, which I can understand, but this one just says Patrice Summers and my P.O. Box number, but turning it over, I notice a distinctive smell: lavender. It’s quite strong. I tear the envelope at the corner, peer inside, and see one piece of paper.
I hesitate to open the envelope completely and put it aside. I will open it when Brock is home. I take the letters to my home office and set up everything to go live. I figure I could do a 30-minute Q&A on gardening issues. I change my clothes, brush my hair, then apply makeup. I open my laptop, place it on my table, and arrange my Ring light. I adjust my microphone, and I’m ready.
For the next 30 minutes, I open letters and answer questions. Afterward, I noticed about 50,000 views and over 100 comments pop up. I love reading the comments. I scroll down and then see the username of tamed466 and the comment, Did you read my letter yet? I promise you will want to know what it says. I look at it again and feel a prickling on my neck. Is this the unknown name and address of this username?
With a shaky hand, I pick up the tan business envelope, rip it completely, and pull out the letter. I unfold it, and it’s very short but in all caps, typed.
I KILLED GOLDIE
IF YOU KEEP GETTING IN MY BUSINESS
I'LL KILL YOU TOO
I drop the letter, and immediately, my body floods with adrenaline, and I feel sick. I call Officer Lopez and tell her about the letter.
“I’ll be there shortly.”
I pace back and forth, waiting. I hear a knock, and then I hear her voice. I quickly open the door. She walks in, and I shut and lock it.
“Are you OK?” She says.
“No, I’m not.” I hand her the letter, and she reads it.
“There’s no address?”
“No, but I did a video on YouTube, on my gardening channel, and one of the comments read, Did you read my letter? I promise you will want to know what it says.”
“Can I look at it?”
“Yes.” I open the laptop and give it to Officer Lopez. She takes it, sits down on the couch, and scrolls down. She looks lost in thought.
“We need to show this to Chief. Maybe he can get the IP address.” She pushes a button near her neck and gets Gray’s attention, to which he says he will be right over.
“We need to get you long-term protection,” she says. “This person knows what you look like, your P.O. box in Grantsville, and may have been tracking you. You’re not safe.”
I close my eyes and realize I shouldn’t have recorded the video today. Me, and possibly Brock, are now this person’s target.
Shortly after, Gray shows up at my door. Officer Lopez lets him in.
“Trice, we need to get you protection. This person isn’t afraid to comment on your channel and send you a letter warning you. Does Brock know about this?”
“Not yet. He’s in court. He does know everything else, though, and we talked about leaving the state for a week or so.”
“It may help, but when you get back, you’re still in danger until we can identify the four people involved in Troy’s murder.”
He’s right. No matter where and for how long I’m gone, I’m still a target when I get back.
“Lopez, I want you here until they leave the state. We are trying to get a meeting with Grant at the prison to get him to tell us the four people who helped bury Troy. We may have to make a deal with him.”
I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand that Gray will have to reduce Grant’s sentence to eliminate the danger.
Officer Lopez nods. “Got it, Chief.”
“Trice, it will be OK. Just stay put; keep your windows and doors locked. If you need something, do it through delivery. Right now, you’re safer at home. But, if we need to put you in witness protection –“
"No, I can't do that," I interrupt firmly. "I refuse to let these people win. Brock and I will leave for a bit and let you guys do your job, but I won't let them destroy my life and family."
Gray and Officer Lopez exchange glances. "All right," Gray says, "then I'll leave Officer Lopez here, but if there's anything suspicious, you will let me know immediately." He looks at both me and her, and we both nod.
After Gray departs, I sit on the couch, my head throbbing. I rub my temples, and Officer Lopez asks, "Are you okay?"
"I just have a headache."
"Where's your Ibuprofen?"
"Top cupboard left of the sink."
Officer Lopez heads into the kitchen, and all I can think about is my family's safety. I put them all in danger when I answered Goldie's texts, and it didn't matter anyway, as she ended up dead. Am I next?
Suddenly, I feel mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. I lie down on the couch and close my eyes.
When I wake, it's nearly dark, and my stomach growls. My headache is gone, and I feel like I've had a good sleep, but now I worry about being awake all night. I check my watch; it's almost 5:00. In the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face, brush my hair, and look outside to see the icy blue sky. The wind has calmed, and the snow has started to melt. When I come back out, I see Officer Lopez on her laptop. She closes it when she notices me.
"Have a good nap?" she asks.
"Yes, it felt good, but I'm starving. I don't even think I had lunch. Maybe that's why I got the headache."
"That makes sense. Do you have food to make, or should we order in?"
I think about the fridge's contents and don’t even know if we have milk, but knowing shopping day is tomorrow, there might not be much. "Let's order in," I suggest.
"Sounds good. I'm going to use my DoorDash account. What sounds good to you?"
"I don't care. Anything sounds good right now, actually."
Officer Lopez picks up her phone and orders Chinese. "How about lemon chicken, shrimp, sweet and sour pork, and ham fried rice?"
My mouth waters at the thought. "Perfect, thanks. Just let me know the charge, and I'll Venmo you the money."
"Sure thing. It'll be here in about 30 minutes."
I turn on the TV and occupy myself until the food arrives. Officer Lopez keeps an eye out for the delivery driver, who leaves the food on the porch before departing. She retrieves the food and scans the yard before closing the door. It's frustrating not being able to leave my house freely.
I quickly devour the food and store the leftovers while Officer Lopez continues her work on the laptop. I wrap myself in a blanket from the hall closet and watch a movie, feeling the cold despite the blanket's warmth. Hercules stays by my side.
A few hours later, Brock arrives home, and Officer Lopez briefs him on the situation. She departs, promising to return in the morning.
"There's Chinese in the fridge," I inform him.
"Great, sounds good. How are you holding up?"
"Better now. I took a long nap. Earlier, though, I had a terrible headache. I hate this," I say, tears welling up.
Brock reaches over and hugs me. "It will be okay. I've got the week off next week, so just five more days, and we can leave and go anywhere you want."
Five days still feels like an eternity, but it's only Wednesday. We could leave on Saturday, however. I propose the idea to Brock, and he agrees. So, I have to endure three more days.
I rest my head on Brock's lap as he gently rubs my back. I miss his touch; it's been so long since we've been intimate.
As I begin to drift off to sleep, I feel safe for the first time in days.
I just have to survive three more days.
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