The publishing company occupied the entire building, the top two floors of which were devoted to the editorial and business functions, while the bottom two had been turned over to production.
Dusty and Erin stepped out of the elevator onto the third floor, and as they had been instructed, made their way, as inconspicuously as possible, along aged but well-maintained hardwood floors, through a maze of corridors, to an office near the far end.
“Clare Durant?” Erin inquired softly.
A woman, not much older than the detective, whose photograph was frequently seen in the society pages of all the local newspapers in connection with one charitable organization or another, looked up.
“Yes?”
“I’m Detective Erin Hall and this is Detective Dusty Grissom from the Seattle Police,” Erin said. “We’re responding to a report about harassing phone calls.”
Clare’s eyes widened in surprise and then she turned and glared at Nina across the way.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “There’s been a mistake. You really didn’t have to come here. This has nothing to do with you. What I mean is, it’s not important enough for you to have wasted your time.”
“If you’re being harassed, it could be very important, and you must have thought so when you called,” Dusty told her.
“I’m the one who called you, Detective,” Nina said, stepping out of her office and crossing the corridor. “Someone is harassing her, it’s been going on for weeks now, and whether she wants to admit it or not, it’s got her scared out of her mind.”
The two police officers looked at Nina, then at each other, and then back at Clare. “Perhaps if you tell us what this is all about, Mrs. Durant,” Erin prompted, “we can help you sort it out.”
Clare made a face at Nina, who showed no sign of backing down. “All right,” she said with a sigh because she clearly had no choice. “The first time he called was about three weeks ago. He asked to speak to someone I’d never heard of. I told him he had the wrong number, and I didn’t know the person he was trying to reach. But then he said he liked the sound of my voice, so maybe he’d talk to me instead. I told him that I was sorry but I wouldn’t be able to help him with anything, and I hung up. He called back five minutes later.”
“And from then on, he’s been calling her every day,” Nina put in. “At least several times a day.”
“What do you do here at Thornburgh House, Mrs. Durant?” Dusty inquired.
“I’m an editor,” Clare replied. “In the fiction division.”
“Does the person calling you call you by name?”
Clare nodded. “Yes, he does.”
“Do you recall, at any time, ever telling this person your name?” Erin wanted to know.
“No, I never told him my name,” Clare replied. “But we have direct lines here, and I answer my own phone.”
“How do you answer it?”
Clare shrugged and then looked at the detectives a little sheepishly. “I say my name.”
“Also, you keep referring to the caller as ‘he’ and ‘him,’” Dusty observed. “Does that mean you’re sure it’s a man? It couldn’t be a woman, or even a child?”
“Well, the voice has an odd sort of sound to it, as though it might not be his real voice, but it’s too deep for a woman, so I assume it’s a man,” Clare said. “But how old he is, I couldn’t guess.”
“And, so far, it’s just been telephone calls?” Dusty asked. “He hasn’t tried to make a date with you or get you to meet him in person anywhere?”
“No, he hasn’t.” Clare opened her mouth and then closed it again.
“You wanted to say something else, Mrs. Durant?” Erin prompted.
“He knows what I look like,” Clare said after a moment.
“How do you know that?”
“Because today he said that my eyes were brown and my hair was blonde. And then he said I looked pretty in blue.”
The two detectives exchanged glances. “Mrs. Durant, we’d like you to make a list, if you would,” Dusty said. “Of all the people you know that you think might want to play this sort of prank on you.”
Clare looked at them, clearly aghast. “You think that someone I know would do this to me?” she asked. “You think I could know anyone who would think this was funny?”
“Well, that’s the first thing we’ll want to eliminate,” Erin said smoothly. “Once we determine that we’re not dealing with someone who’s just playing a very bad joke on you, we can begin to look elsewhere. Perhaps you know of a person that feels you may have wronged him in some way? You, or your husband?”
Clare blinked. “You don’t think this could be connected to Richard, do you?”
“If someone is angry at your husband, it’s not beyond reason to think that he may try to retaliate by targeting the person closest to him,” Dusty told her.
“I never thought of that,” Clare murmured. “And we have children! All right. It might take me some time, but I’ll get you a list of everyone I can think of, if just to assure you that it isn’t any of them.”
“I don’t know if it means anything or not, but she had a very bad accident a few months ago,” Nina said suddenly. “Then the calls started -- I don’t think it was even as much as a week after she came back to work.”
“Is that so?” Erin asked.
“Yes, it is,” Clare admitted. “But I don’t see how the two could be connected. I was alone with my family at the time of that accident. There was no one else around.”
“There may not be any connection,” Erin said. “But it helps to know everything going in.”
“What sort of accident was it?” Dusty inquired.
“She was hiking in the Olympics and she slipped and fell down the mountain,” Nina said before Clare could respond.
“Well, not all
