Eyes of a Stalker by Valerie Sherrard

Mom’s voice sounded horrified and hopeful all at the same time.
    â€œWebster?” The very idea struck me as ludicrous. “No way.” We’d pulled into our driveway by then and I slid from the car still thinking about it. “At least, I don’t think so.”
    â€œWhen he left by that exit after your meeting last night, was he on foot?” Mom unlocked the door and pushed it open, then stood back and waited for me to go into the house ahead of her.
    â€œNo. He was driving his car.” I relocked the door behind me and dropped my book bag onto the floor. “So there’s no way it could be him. Whoever heard me talking to Greg couldn’t have been in a car. For one thing, we’d have noticed it for sure.”
    â€œBut he could have parked somewhere and hiddennear the house.”
    â€œI don’t think so. I mean, I know it’s possible, but I just can’t picture Webster doing that.”
    Mom touched my arm and then ran her hand along my face in a gentle stroke. She was looking at me like she might cry, which made
me
feel like crying. “I understand that you feel that way, but I think we should mention it to the police anyway.”
    I wasn’t exactly keen on the thought of doing that, especially knowing that Webster was already having problems. And what if he thought I was accusing him of something?
    I knew there was no sense in arguing about it, and anyway, what if I was wrong? It could be him. It wasn’t impossible. And he
had
been acting strange, and had even given me that odd look last evening.
    Mom called the police and told them she had some information and asked if they needed to come by or if she could just give it to them over the phone. When she hung up the phone she told me they were coming right over.
    â€œThe officer said this is their highest priority case right now,” she said quietly, slipping an arm around my shoulder.
    It was Officer Holt who showed up moments later and, oddly enough, I was a bit disappointed it wasn’t Mueller. I guess the way he’d handled things after the e-mail gave me confidence in him, even though he’dbeen sceptical the time before.
    Holt and Mom and I sat in the kitchen and he started out by asking me how I was doing. I wasn’t sure how to answer that, so I just said I was okay.
    â€œNow, you have some new information?” he asked, flipping his notepad open.
    â€œMom thinks it might be important,” I said. I hoped that conveyed that I didn’t, and that I was only telling him this to humour her.
    â€œMothers are very often right,” he said.
    â€œShelby has good instincts,” Mom said, to my surprise. “But this is a bit close to home, if you know what I mean, so she may not be seeing things as clearly as she normally would.”
    â€œSure, sure,” he said. He nodded and smiled at me reassuringly. “Thing is, with an investigation like this, the best idea is to give us all the information you can, and let us sort it out from there. Something might not seem important to you, but it could be useful to us.”
    So I told him about how Webster had been acting a bit unusual at the book club, and that he’d left the school last evening by the side entrance. I felt like a traitor the whole time I was talking, especially after reproaching Jimmy about that very thing that morning.
    â€œYou did just right in telling me about this,” Officer Holt told me. “Now, don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll take care of it.”
    I forced a smile and said thank you.
    â€œThere’s something else I’ve been meaning to mention,” Mom said. “As I’m sure you know, Shelby has been instrumental in solving a number of crimes here in Little River in the past. Do you think maybe someone is doing this to her as some kind of payback?”
    â€œDoesn’t seem like the kind of thing a person would do who was looking for