Chapter 9 - The Phantom Threat
Life settled into a beautiful, busy routine over the next year. My legs healed remarkably well, leaving me with only a slight limp when the weather turned cold. I passed my CPA reactivation exams with flying colors and accepted a junior partner position at the forensic accounting firm.
Emma thrived. Without the constant underlying tension in the house, she blossomed from a quiet, anxious child into a vibrant, laughing girl who loved soccer and painting.
But the past has a funny way of casting long shadows.
It was a Tuesday evening in late October. The air was crisp, and I was finishing up a financial audit at my home office desk—the very desk Caleb used to hide his secrets in.
My cell phone buzzed. It was an unknown number from a federal correctional facility.
My heart skipped a beat. Caleb hadn't tried to contact me since his sentencing. A restraining order was still in place, preventing him from communicating with me or Emma.
I let it go to voicemail.
Ten minutes later, an audio file appeared in my inbox. I hesitated, my mouse hovering over the play button. Part of me wanted to delete it. But the new me—the investigator—needed to know what he wanted.
I clicked play.
“Hello, Rebecca,” Caleb’s voice came through the speakers, sounding raspy and older than I remembered. The background hummed with the sterile noise of a prison block. “I know you’re listening. I just wanted to congratulate you on the new job. Saw you in the local business journal. You always were smart. Too smart for your own good.”
A chill ran down my spine. How was he getting local news?
“I have a lot of time to think in here, Becca,” he continued, his tone shifting into something dark and venomous. “Those men I owed money to? They weren't happy that the feds seized all my accounts. They’re still looking for their payout. And they know you got a very nice restitution check. Keep your doors locked, sweetheart.”
The line went dead.
Panic, hot and familiar, flared in my chest. I immediately stood up and checked the locks on the front door, then ran upstairs to check Emma’s window. Everything was secure.
I called Eleanor immediately. She answered on the second ring.
“He called me,” I breathed, pacing the hallway. “He bypassed the prison block on my number by using a different inmate's PIN. He threatened me, Eleanor. He said his loan sharks are coming after my restitution money.”
Eleanor’s voice was remarkably calm. “Send me the audio file right now. I’m contacting the warden and the FBI liaison on his case.”
“Should I take Emma and go to a hotel? Maya’s out of town.”
“No,” Eleanor said firmly. “Caleb is a narcissist, Rebecca. He’s sitting in a 6x8 cell, stripped of all his power. He read an article about your success, and his fragile ego couldn't handle it. He’s trying to terrify you from behind bars because it’s the only control he has left. I highly doubt a crime syndicate is going to stalk a suburban mother over a debt the feds already dismantled.”
“But what if he’s telling the truth?”
“If he is, the FBI will intercept it,” Eleanor assured me. “I will have a patrol car stationed on your street tonight just to be safe. Breathe, Rebecca. He’s a caged dog barking at the moon.”
May you like
I hung up the phone and walked back to my office. I looked at the dark window pane, seeing my own reflection. Eleanor was right. I wasn't the terrified woman in the hospital bed anymore.
I opened a drawer, pulled out the security system manual, and upgraded the alarms on every door and window. Then, I went to sleep. I refused to let him steal another night of my peace.
