"There's always a first time," I said.
He nodded. "And you might have just given us enough to make it stick."
We spent another half hour refining my statement. Once done, he stood and shook my hand. "Thank you, Mr. Dalton. We'll be moving forward with charges. But between you and me, brace yourself for what's coming. People like her don't go down quietly."
I almost laughed. "You don't say."
He cracked a thin smile. "We'll keep you updated."
I left the station with a mix of relief and adrenaline, feeling like we'd turned a corner. But just as I pulled into the grocery store parking lot to grab supplies before heading back up the mountain, my phone buzzed again: a voicemail from an unknown number.
I played it, and my blood pressure jumped.
"This isn't over!" Karen screamed through the speaker. Her voice cracked, furious, borderline feral. "You think you can get me arrested? I'll sue you! I'll take your cabin! You messed with the wrong woman. Just wait."
The message ended with a slam like she'd thrown the phone.
I listened twice just to be sure I wasn't imagining it. She was out already, which meant her brother or someone had bailed her out fast.
"Fantastic," I muttered.
I sat in my truck for a long moment, gripping the steering wheel. She was coming back. Of course, she was. But this time, she wasn't walking onto my property with a cord. No, she'd come with rage, lies, and the full fire of someone who'd been publicly embarrassed. And as much as I wanted to believe the worst was behind me, I knew in my gut that the mountain wasn't done with Karen yet. Not even close.
I sat there in the grocery store parking lot, gripping the steering wheel as Karen's unhinged voicemail echoed in my head. The whole thing felt unreal, like the start of one of those true crime podcasts where the host says, And that's when things took a darker turn.
But this wasn't a podcast. This was my life, my mountain, my piece of mind shredded by one entitled woman who thought electricity grew like berries on a bush.
I stared out at the parking lot for another minute, letting the voicemail sink in. She was out of custody way too fast. Either the charges hadn't been processed yet, or someone bailed her out immediately—maybe the mysterious brother Randall mentioned, maybe she'd charmed someone, maybe she'd screeched until someone couldn't take it anymore. Regardless, I didn't like the idea of her being loose and angry.