214 Palmer Street(36)
“You need anything else? Coffee or water?”
“No, I’m good. I won’t take long. I promise.”
“Take as much time as you need. When you’re done you can just leave it on the table and I’ll take care of it later.”
“Great, thanks.” After the door closed behind Christy, she opened the file and pulled out the paperwork. Finally, she was able to see the police report filed by Kirk, along with the four notes and a photo. The image of the dead rat, gutted and sprawled out on their porch, was the most shocking to her. Who would do such a thing? It was bold to leave a dead animal by their front door. Their house was far back from the road and fronted by a U-shaped driveway with a fountain in the center. Anyone leaving anything on the porch was taking a big chance of being seen. Added to this was the fact that most people in their neighborhood had a security camera. Her house hadn’t yet been equipped that way, but that wouldn’t be known by outsiders, so it was still a ballsy move.
The notes were inside a clear plastic holder and dated with sticky notes. Each of them was like the first one, written in marker on plain white paper. The wording varied somewhat but all of them were printed in capital letters. She shuffled through the notes, organizing them in the order they were left in her mailbox.
I KNOW WHAT YOU DID. HOW CAN YOU LIVE WITH YOURSELF?
JUST YOU WAIT. YOU’RE GOING TO GET YOURS.
SOMEDAY EVERYONE WILL KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND WHAT YOU’VE DONE.
ENJOY YOUR LIFE OF LUXURY. SOON YOU’LL BE EXPOSED FOR WHAT YOU ARE AND IT WILL BE OVER.
Even though the words were crudely printed, the vitriol behind them felt like an assault. She remembered going to the mailbox and finding the first one. She’d been shocked then, too, reading it over and over again, racking her brain, trying to work out what it meant. Some part of her did feel undeserving of the life of luxury she’d gained by marrying Kirk. Did she come off as conceited? She didn’t think so. She never mentioned anything about her circumstances when talking to her co-workers. Clarice was nearly as privileged, but not quite as discreet. Clarice was known to show off expensive jewelry and talk about trips—the kind of travel most people who worked in their office couldn’t afford. Clarice wasn’t as tuned in to the feelings of others, but Sarah clearly remembered the days when she was just getting by and tried to be considerate of how these kinds of references might make others feel.
The notes were puzzling for other reasons too. I KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE. An accusation that didn’t make sense. What were they referring to? She couldn’t even imagine. Sarah was a rule follower through and through. She’d never gotten so much as a parking ticket and she tried to be nice to everyone she met. Another note: YOU’RE GOING TO GET YOURS. Definitely a threat, but nothing specific. Vague. Like something a kid would say. Maybe Kirk was right and there was no reason to it, just a crazy person venting over some perceived slight or imagined misdeed.
Maybe they’d erroneously targeted the wrong house.
She read over everything else pertaining to the notes. The police had questioned their neighbors and checked the security camera footage in the surrounding areas. Ultimately, they came up with nothing. They’d advised Kirk to get his own security cameras, and as far as the police were concerned that was the end of it—until she was struck in the head in her backyard. It wasn’t until that happened that he finally had the security cameras installed.
Even now that she was nearly recovered, thinking about her injury made the back of her skull throb. Was the attack somehow tied to the notes? There was nothing definite linking the two, but she thought it must be, because what other possible explanation was there? What were the chances the two events wouldn’t be related?
Sarah took out her phone and took pictures of everything in the file, then reassembled the pages and left the folder on the table. On the way out, catching sight of Christy at her desk, she mouthed the words “Thank you.” Nodding, Christy gave a friendly wave.
Sarah felt an air of triumph by the time she climbed into the passenger seat of Phil’s car.
“What did you find out?” he asked, starting the engine.
“I bailed on getting the property info because the lady behind the counter seemed suspicious and I was afraid she’d ask for my ID,” she said. “But then I ran into Gavin Kramer as I was leaving. I panicked for a minute, but then I recovered and told him I wanted to have a look at the threatening notes.”
Phil gave her a quick smile. “Good thinking. How’d that go?”
“His assistant gave me the file. I still don’t remember ever seeing three of the notes. And I definitely don’t remember the dead rat.” She held up her phone. “But I took pictures of everything.”
“So what’s your takeaway from all this?”
Dear sweet Phil. She knew he would never badmouth Kirk directly, but some of his questions had made his opinion clear: he thought Kirk wrote the notes and was gaslighting her. She wasn’t convinced. “I’m not sure what to think, but I feel like I’m close to figuring it out.”
TWENTY-ONE
NOW
Clarice didn’t bother with a greeting. She answered her phone by saying, “What do you want?” Her voice through the speaker phone conveyed her irritation.