Page 11 of Unexpected Danger
The three-frame picture collection on the shelf in the living room caught her eye. One was of her and Brodie at the prom. She wore a beautiful purple dress, and he wore a white tux. They’d eaten at a fast-food restaurant, joining with other friends to take a step outside the ordinary. Londyn and Brodie had gone as friends, of course, and visited the local park after dinner and before heading to the prom. It was that event that Brodie had attempted to duplicate the night he’d proposed.
Both times, they’d hopped on the swings, pumped their legs, and leaped out of the swings just as they had when they were younger. She was glad she could still land on her feet over ten years later.
Then they’d climbed onto the old metal merry-go-round. It was a vintage, iconic piece that brought back memories of elementary school. Both times, they’d stepped off, dizzy, staggering, and stumbling to the park bench.
That night, Brodie’s hope to recapture the night at the prom had distracted her from Mom’s recent choice.
Until Londyn had ruined the evening.
Regret crept into her soul, and she instead peered at the middle picture of her and Brodie’s family at Christmas Eve services at church the year before Mr. Brenneman died at the hands of a drunk driver, and Danny died in a car wreck while moving back to Pronghorn Falls. Everyone was smiling. Happy. Not a care in the world.
The final picture was of her and Brodie hiking up Pronghorn Peak. With their trekking poles, backpacks, and matching ball caps, the selfie reminded her of not only the accomplishment of enduring steep terrain and harsh weather on the hike back, but of a time when Brodie’s friendship was paramount in her life. They started dating soon after.
Londyn replaced the picture, grabbed a can of soup from the cupboard, and emptied it into a pan.
She was stirring the soup over the stove when her cell phone rang, causing her to jump.
Londyn didn’t recognize the number, so she allowed it to go to voicemail. Within seconds, the ping of a message sounded.
She punched in her password, and the message played.
A message consisting of only breathing.
Londyn instantly set the phone on the counter and walked to the front window. Outside, a few vehicles rumbled by, but there was no man in a hoodie across the street—or even more thankfully—at her door.
Perhaps it was just a wrong number.
She turned off the stove and poured the soup into a bowl when a text notification alerted her.
Londyn clicked on the text icon and scrutinized the words written in all caps:
I SEE YOU.
The phone rang again, and without thinking, she answered it.
“Hello?”
No answer.
“Who is this?”
“I see you.”
The distorted voice produced a profound unease. She dropped her phone on the counter as though it were a hot potato and took a step back.
“Who are you?” she repeated to the empty room. “Why are you doing this?”
Londyn rushed again to the front door and each window.
Nothing and no one unusual was outside.
Another notification. She dared a peek at the text.
THAT SHIRT GOES WELL WITH YOUR EYES.
She clutched her arms with icy fingers as the fear seized her. The heavy pounding of her own heartbeat thundered in her ears. With trembling hands, she retrieved her phone.
The number that both texted and called her was unknown to her. She hit the block button. How many burner phones did this guy have?
