Whispers on the Line by Melissa Willingham (well read books .txt) 📖

In the darkness of night, the ethereal wind whistled through a stand of trees. Thunder roared forcefully, patterned by a booming, resounding crescendo. Lightning flashed brilliantly, offering brief glimpses of a fleeting daylight that was no longer there. Furry animals scurried about, desperately seeking shelter from the storm raging around them.

All was noisy and tumultuous on the outside. But inside the small one-story ranch-style house, all was serene and quiet. Caroline Freytag lay snuggled up cozily, warm beneath her bedcovers. In her peaceful slumber, she remained blissfully oblivious to the unrest just beyond her window.

Without warning, a loud ringing of the bedside house phone sliced through the calm. Within a couple of moments, Caroline stirred. Glancing at her alarm clock, she scowled. Who on earth would call her at two o'clock in the morning?

Despite her hesitation to answer, she found herself lifting the cold receiver to her ear. "Hello?"

There was dead silence on the other end. "Is anyone there?" she persisted. "Who is this and what do you want?"

She heard the sound of labored breathing and coughing. "Please, I've been shot. I'm dying," a man whispered, gasping for breath.

"Who are you? Is this a joke of some kind?" Caroline demanded of the other person on the line.

With a slow, unsteady tone, the mysterious caller answered her questions. "I'm Adam Sansone. It's no joke. Dear God, help me."

Caroline scratched her head in confusion, wondering what to do. She could hear the sincerity in every syllable he uttered. It appeared his dilemma might indeed be genuine.

"Where are you? How did this happen? Who shot you?" Maybe he would give her enough information where she could send an ambulance to assist him.

"I'm at home in my study. A crazy woman who's been stalking me broke into my house and shot me. Her name is Wendy Sutton," he wheezed painfully.

"I'm sorry, sir. Give me your address and I'll have someone come take you to the hospital."

"You don't understand. It's too late for me. I'm calling to warn you, lady. She's coming after you. She has her gun," he forced out. The line crackled and then went dead.

Caroline waited for the dial tone, immediately placing a call to the local police department. She spoke briefly with Sheriff Hoyt Bannister, explaining the peculiar situation she found herself in. He listened with rapt interest, before assuring her he'd check it out.

She sprang up quickly from her bed, rushing about to make sure all the windows and doors were secured. If some insane woman wanted her dead, Caroline couldn't be too careful.

She hastily grabbed a butcher knife and beat a path to her bedroom, locking herself inside. She began to pray that God would spare her from a horrifying fate. Why would the other woman seek to harm her? Who were these two people anyway?  Why were they involving her in this mess?

All of a sudden, it hit her. Adam Sansone was a former client of hers. He'd hired her to file suit against Wendy Sutton for harassment. He won and the woman was ordered to stay away from him.

Caroline remembered the day well. In gratitude, he'd hugged her warmly. She recalled glancing at Wendy, whose angry eyes stared through them. Evidently, the woman mistook Adam's triumphant gesture to Caroline as an affair. Wendy must be out for misguided revenge.

As she sat huddled in a corner, unsure of what to expect, she heard a loud crashing sound outside. It appeared to be just down the road. She listened, curious as to the source of the noise. Several minutes later, the telephone rang.

Caroline scrambled to answer the demanding instrument. "Hello?"

A woman's muffled sobs crept over the line. Her voice quivered. "I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me. I was wrong."

Caroline peered around the room nervously. "Who is this? What are you talking about?"

"This is Wendy Sutton. I murdered Adam Sansone. I meant to kill you as well. God, forgive me!" she begged. The connection was abruptly broken.

Almost immediately, the shrill ringing sounded again. "Hello?”

"Miss Freytag, it's Sheriff Bannister. I'm outside your home, at the scene of an accident. Wendy Sutton plowed into a tree here."

"But, she just called me right before you did, Sheriff."

"That's impossible, ma'am. She's been dead for half an hour," he informed her.

"And Adam Sansone? I spoke with him forty-five minutes ago."

"Again, impossible. He's been dead for two hours."

Caroline shivered as she replaced the receiver in its cradle. For now she realized those chilling whispers on the line were ghostly voices reaching out to her. One attempted to warn her of imminent danger. The other sought repentance for the commission of sins. God have mercy on their souls.

***

Publication Date: 01-11-2011

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