She felt shaky and unnerved by the time she finished, an hour later. Sarah was dutifully typing everything into the computer. And sometimes, she’d asked questions.
Glancing over at Roan, who had gone and gotten them some fresh coffee, she took the cup from him, grateful he was there with her. She felt his blanket of protection as surely as he’d wrapped a real blanket around her shoulders.
Sarah scowled. She went to her notes in the desktop computer. “Okay, so let’s look at Leath.”
“But, he’s in prison,” Shiloh protested. “He’s got five years before he can get out.” She sipped the coffee.
“Well . . . let me just take a look and make sure,” Sarah coaxed. “It’ll take a moment of my time to double-check. I like getting a factual base to work from.”
Shiloh couldn’t see what was on the huge screen facing the sheriff but she saw her arched red brows draw into a scowl, her eyes suddenly narrowing.
“What?” she demanded, her heartbeat starting to take off. “What’s wrong, Sheriff Carter?” Shiloh sat up, suddenly tense, gripping the paper cup in her hands.
Sarah looked over at her. “Anton Leath was given parole ten months ago. He was given five years off his original sentence for good behavior. He’s now on probation. Didn’t you know that?”
Gasping, Shiloh shot out of the chair, the coffee slopping over her and the floor. “No!” She flinched, hearing the cry of terror in her voice. It sounded like a wild animal that was trapped, screaming, knowing it was cornered and going to die. The scalding hot coffee burned her hand and lower arm, and she felt Roan’s hand on her shoulders to steady her. He took the half-emptied cup out of her hands, setting it on the desk.
Gasping, Shiloh cried brokenly, “No! No! That can’t be! They’d have told me! They were supposed to call me when they were going to release him!”
Sarah stood and went over to a file drawer and opened it. She pulled out a small towel and walked over, handing it to her so she could wipe the coffee off herself. “I’m sorry, but it appears from what I can see, you were not notified, Shiloh. I’m sorry.”
Tears burned hotly in her eyes and, blindly, Shiloh used the towel to dry herself off. Roan led her back to the chair, asking her to sit down. She barely heard him. Barely heard anything, a buzzing going on inside her head, her mind spinning and making connections. She sat and pressed her hands against her tear-splattered face, trying to get a hold of her wild, panicked emotions.
Roan sat down, sliding his arm around her shoulders. “Try to take some deep breaths, Shiloh. It will help settle the adrenaline surging through you.”
Roan’s low, quiet voice cut through her anxiety and terror. She felt the warm strength of his hand gently smoothing the fabric of her blouse against her hunched, tensed shoulders. Closing her eyes, hands gripped in her lap, she did as he asked, listening to him, his voice melting away a little of her terror. Finally, Shiloh lifted her head. She rubbed the tears from her cheeks and looked at Sarah.
“He’s my stalker, then.” The words came out hard and flat. Filled with palpable dread.
Sarah nodded. “Could well be. Hold on . . . let me get to his probation officer’s record on Leath’s whereabouts. . . .” she said, and she typed in some commands.
Shiloh looked over at Roan, so glad his hand remained on her shoulders. She saw he was upset, worried for her. Giving him a misery-laden look, she whispered, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose it.”
Roan shook his head. “It’s okay, Shiloh. Did you burn yourself?” he asked, and he slid his hand beneath her tense fingers.
She looked down, her skin reddened here and there where the coffee had splashed upon her. “N-no, I’m okay. It stings a little is all. It’s nothing. I’ll be all right. . . .” But she felt so far from all right, she wanted to run. Shiloh wanted to run directly into Roan’s arms. She saw the glint in the recesses of his eyes, the hardness and determination and protection he wanted to give her. “God,” she whispered, “I don’t dare go back to Manhattan! That’s his hometown, too.”
Sarah looked over at them. “Okay, here’s something that’s probably going to prove that Leath is here in Wyoming, right now.” She tapped the screen with her index finger. “His probation officer has noted that in the last month, Leath has failed to show up for three of his weekly sessions.”
“That’s got to be a violation,” Roan growled.
“Yes, it is. They have a warrant out for his arrest,” Sarah added. She held up her hand. “Hold on while I try to get his probation officer on the phone. Maybe he can give me more intel.”
Shiloh felt as if the world had just collapsed in on her. Anton Leath was after her. She licked her lower lip and whispered unsteadily to Roan, “He promised to come after me.”
Roan scowled. “What do you mean?”