Page 12 of Peak Suspicion
He dipped his head, almost bashful, then turned and left.
She leaned back, a little weak at the knees. His offer to help—to look after her—had touched her. He had sounded so sincere. But could she trust that wasn’t just an act to reel her in? She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She didn’t have to figure Carter out all at once. The best approach was to move cautiously. Wait and see.
But she had never been the patient sort. That had gotten her into so much trouble before.
Poison-Pen Letters Plague Local Residents
By Tammy Patterson, Examiner Staff
A rash of anonymous letters have appeared in local residents’ mailboxes, on car windshields, or tacked to front doors. The letters accuse the recipients of such petty crimes as littering, and violating homeowners’ association covenants. According to recipients, the information in the letters is either wrong, or has blown a minor incident out of proportion. “It’s nosy, invasive and just plain mean,” says Meadow Wilcox, who received a letter complaining that she left her trash cans at the curb overnight. “Yes, technically, I’m supposed to bring the empty cans into the garage right after trash pickup. But I was away at a work conference. No one was harmed by my leaving them out an extra few hours.”
Even local law enforcement hasn’t been immune from the letter writer’s wrath. Sergeant Gage Walker received a note scolding his wife for violating local leash laws when their pet dog pulled the leash out of her hand and ran a short distance at the local park. “We’re not letting our dog run loose,” Sergeant Walker said. “That someone took the trouble to write a letter reprimanding me for something like this sounds like a deliberate attempt to annoy people.”
“Frankly, it’s scary that someone is paying that much attention to all these little things,” said Deni Traynor. She and her partner, Ryan Welch, received a letter accusing them of violating an ordinance against excessive debris in their yard. The pair are remodeling a home. “We have construction materials, neatly stacked, and a construction dumpster,” Traynor said. “And we have a permit for all of it. It’s ridiculous.”
According to Sheriff Travis Walker, the few true crimes cited in the letters he has seen, such as an accusation of speeding, are unenforceable on the basis ofa letter. “I can’t write a ticket for speeding if I or one of my deputies doesn’t catch the driver in the act,” Sheriff Walker said.
When asked what penalties the letter writer might face if apprehended, Sheriff Walker said he would probably talk to the person first and ask them to stop their letter-writing campaign. If they persisted, however, the scribe could be charged with harassment. “The sheriff’s department is collecting letters, if anyone would like to add theirs to our file. We’re comparing the messages and ask that anyone keep an eye out for someone delivering the letters. Or, if you have a friend or family member you suspect is behind the letters, let us know. The letter writer should be concerned about their own safety. People are pretty upset about this and someone might try to exact their own justice. I would caution people not to take matters into their own hands, but the best thing for everyone would be for the letter writer to turn to a healthier outlet for their frustrations.”
Volunteers were called to search and rescue headquarters Thursday shortly after noon to assist in the search for an elderly woman who had wandered away from her home a few hours earlier. “Her name is Helen Wakefield. She’s eighty-two years old, white hair, about five feet five inches tall, 120 pounds.” Danny read off the particulars the sheriff’s department had forwarded. “She was recently diagnosed with dementia, but has never done anything like this before. She lives with her daughter and son-in-law, who reported her missing about half an hour ago. They thought she was taking a nap but found her missing when the daughter went to check on her because she didn’t show up for lunch. She could have been gone as long as a couple of hours.”
“Could she have tried to go back to the home she used to live in?” Carter asked. “Or to see a friend or relative? Before my grandmother died, she would talk about going to see her sister, who had been dead ten years by then.”
“There’s no mention of anything like that in the information we have,” Danny said. “Sheriff’s deputies and family members are searching the streets in their neighborhood. We’ve been asked to focus on a ravine behind the house that leads down to Timber Creek.”
“I hope she didn’t end up down there,” Ryan said. “That’s pretty rough country.”
“That’s why they called us,” Danny said.
They split into groups to search the area they had been assigned, and piled into vehicles to make their way to the missing woman’s neighborhood. Carter ended up in a Jeep driven by Tony Meisner, with Ryan, Deni and Grace. “Deni, I saw you were quoted in the article in the paper today about those anonymous letters,” Tony said as he pulled the Jeep in line behind Carrie Andrews’s SUV.
“Tammy didn’t print the whole quote,” Ryan said.
“That’s because I was so angry about that letter everything I had to say wasn’t fit for a family newspaper,” Deni said. “I just hope the publicity puts a stop to whoever is behind this.”
“They haven’t stopped yet,” Tony said. “I got a letter today.”
Carter, Deni and Ryan, all leaned forward from the back seat. “What did your letter say?” Deni asked.
Tony’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. “The letter accused me of climbing illegally on the via ferrata while it was closed. It threatened to report me to the owner and said as a member of the climbing community I should be ashamed of myself.”
“Who does this person think they are?” Deni said. “Talking to all of us like we’re three years old.”
“I wasn’t climbing illegally,” Tony said. “I’m helping Ian Seabrook design a new climbing route. I had his permission to be up there after he closed for the day.”
“Ian told me about that,” Carter said. Ian Seabrook was engaged to Bethany and though he and Carter hadn’t hit it off initially, Ian had turned out to be a pretty good guy.
“The sheriff said he had a file of letters people all over town have received,” Deni said. “But I bet there are a lot of people who haven’t said anything to anyone because they really did break some minor rule. Or because the letter writer reveals something they’d rather keep private.”
Carter thought of Mira. Whoever David was, the mention of him in the notes she had received had really upset her—so much so that she didn’t want anyone to know about them. “Has anyone received more than one letter?” he asked.
“I haven’t heard anything like that,” Deni said. “Why? Do you know someone who got more than one?”
He shook his head. “I was just wondering.” Why had Mira been singled out? He wished she would trust him enough to confide in him. Maybe he could help her. It was his own fault she was so wary of him. He’d worked so hard to try to impress her he’d looked like a jerk. Dalton was right—he’d never been smart about a lot of things—certainly not women.
They reached the unpaved street in the shadow of the mountains where Helen Wakefield and her family lived. The sheriff’s SUV was parked in front of the house. Danny spoke with Sheriff Walker briefly, then directed the SAR volunteers to begin their search.
Carter was assigned to a section of the ravine near the creek, along with Deni and Tony. The three of them moved diagonally up the slope, pausing every thirty seconds or so to call for Helen. Occasionally the echo of other searchers drifted to them. Dry twigs and last fall’s brown leaves crunched beneath their feet.
