Chapter 6: Her Name Was Already There
The officer called back that afternoon.
I was in the kitchen feeding Emma when my phone rang.
I balanced Emma on my hip and answered.
"Mrs.
Calloway?" It was a woman's voice this time.
"I'm Officer Tran.
I'm following up on the report you filed this morning."
"Yes.
Thank you for calling back."
"I've reviewed the details.
I want to ask you a few questions, if that's all right."
"Of course."
She asked me to walk through the afternoon again — the pool, the confrontation, the manager, the note.
I did.
Emma grabbed at my collar while I talked.
I let her.
When I finished, Officer Tran was quiet for a moment.
"Mrs.
Calloway, the name you gave us — Renee Ashworth — has come up in our records before."
I stopped moving.
"What do you mean?"
"I can't share details of prior reports.
But I can tell you that your documentation is consistent with a pattern we're already aware of.
The note, the fact that she remained on the property after being removed, the apparent decision to approach your vehicle — these are things we take seriously."
"Has she done this to someone else?"
A careful pause.
"I can tell you that you are not the first person to contact us about her."
I sat down.
Emma made a small sound of protest at the change in position and I shifted her to my other hip.
"What happens now?" I asked.
"We'll make contact with Ms.
Ashworth.
We'll document this incident formally.
If she contacts you again — in any form, in person, by phone, in writing, online — you call us immediately.
Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"And Mrs.
Calloway — the hotel's footage.
Mr.
Holt has already agreed to preserve it.
That's helpful."
"He's been very good," I said.
"He called us this morning before you did," Officer Tran said.
"He wanted to make sure someone was looking out for you."
I hadn't known that.
I sat with it for a second.
"Is there anything else I should do?" I asked.
"Document everything.
Dates, times, any contact.
Keep the note exactly where it is." A brief pause.
"And try to go about your life.
I know that's easier said than done."
After we hung up, I sat at the kitchen table and stared at nothing for a while.
Aaron came in from the backyard, grass-stained at both knees, holding a football.
"Who was that?"
"A police officer."
He went still.
"Why?"
"Because of yesterday.
I filed a report about the woman and the note she left."
He set the football on the counter.
He looked at me the way he sometimes did — too carefully, too old for his age.
"Is she going to come back?" he asked.
"I don't think so.
The police are handling it."
"But you don't know for sure."
"No," I said.
"I don't know for sure."
He nodded slowly.
Then he picked up the football again.
"Okay," he said.
"I'm going back outside."
"Aaron."
He stopped in the doorway.
"You don't need to worry about this," I said.
"That's my job."
He looked at me for a long moment.
"I know," he said.
"But I'm going to anyway."
He went back outside.
I heard the thud of the ball against the fence.
Three days later, Renee Ashworth called my mobile number.
I had never given it to her.
I had never spoken to her outside of that pool.
I had no idea how she had found it.
I let it ring.
May you like
She left a voicemail.
I called Officer Tran before I listened to it.
