“
I know what you did to Lucy,” Allie went on, unable to stop herself. “You’d better not sell the glen, or you’ll be sorry!” Quickly, she hung up, then stared at the phone in horror. What if it rang? Could Gag-Me trace the call? What if he had Caller ID? What in the world had she done?
She lifted the receiver again and dialed Dub’s number. When he answered, she told him all about the diary and about the call she had made to Raymond Gagney.
“You did what?” Dub shouted in her ear. “You called a murderer and said, ‘I know what you did’? Why didn’t you just say, ‘Please come kill me, too’? Are you crazy?”
“Geez, Dub,” said Allie, “take it easy.”
“Did you actually say, ‘You’ll be sorry’? Oooh, I bet that scared him, Al.”
“I never thought he’d answer the phone!” Allie wailed. “So I was sort of—unprepared.”
“I’ll say,” said Dub darkly. “You didn’t happen to say, ‘By the way, my name is Allie Nichols and I live at 67 Cumberland Road,’ did you?”
“Give me a break,” said Allie. “I’m not that stupid.” There was a silence. “Dub, you’re scaring me,” she said in a small voice.
“Well, I’m sorry, but I wish you’d called me before you got the brilliant idea of calling to threaten a known murderer.
”
”
Cynthia C. DeFelice (The Ghost of Fossil Glen)