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No Alibi
Valerie Hansen


Juror Julie Ann Jones simply didn't expect the life on the line to be her own.Courtroom tension is running high during a scandal-packed murder case. As the trial heats up, a series of "accidents" begins targeting the jurors–especially Julie Ann. There are gunshots at her beauty salon. A prowler is spotted at her home.Through it all, fellow juror Smith Burnett gives her the courage to continue. But will she find the courage to give Smith her heart?










Serenity, Arkansas





Serenity, Arkansas





Serenity, Arkansas





Serenity, Arkansas





Serenity, Arkansas





Serenity, Arkansas





Serenity, Arkansas





Serenity, Arkansas





Serenity, Arkansas





Serenity, Arkansas





Serenity, Arkansas





Serenity, Arkansas





Serenity, Arkansas





Serenity, Arkansas




“What are you doing here?” Smith asked.


Julie Ann said, “I called the sheriff and got you some backup.”

“I told you to stay in your beauty shop.”

“Did you catch the shooter?”

“No, there were a couple of shell casings on the roof but that’s all.”

“See? It was safe to come out.”

The absurdity of her statement made him want to shake some sense into her. Clenching his fists instead, Smith said, “You know better than that.”

“This isn’t a combat zone,” Julie Ann argued. “Lighten up.”

In a way she was right. But he couldn’t expect a civilian to understand what it was like to come under fire.

He reached out and gently cupped her shoulder. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your shop and we can tell the sheriff what we saw.”

Smith pulled her closer. When he’d promised Julie Ann’s brother he’d look after her, Smith hadn’t dreamed things would take such an ominous turn.




VALERIE HANSEN


was thirty when she awoke to the presence of the Lord in her life and turned to Jesus. In the years that followed she worked with young children, both in church and secular environments. She also raised a family of her own and played foster mother to a wide assortment of furred and feathered critters.

Married to her high school sweetheart since age seventeen, she now lives in an old farmhouse she and her husband renovated with their own hands. She loves to hike the wooded hills behind the house and reflect on the marvelous turn her life has taken. Not only is she privileged to reside among the loving, accepting folks in the breathtakingly beautiful Ozark mountains of Arkansas, she also gets to share her personal faith by telling the stories of her heart for Steeple Hill Books.

Life doesn’t get much better than that!




No Alibi

Valerie Hansen








When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid.

—Psalms 56:3–4


Given my love and appreciation for the wonderful people in my life, I hardly know where to begin. I am so blessed it’s scary!



As always, a special hug for my husband. Not only is he a great guy, he can cook! And he does, especially when I’m busy writing more books. Hey, maybe that’s why I’ve tried to stay so busy.




CONTENTS


PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EPILOGUE

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION




PROLOGUE


Under the cover of a nearly moonless night, the well-dressed man ordered the driver of his limousine to park behind a bank of metal storage buildings where they couldn’t be seen from the street.

When his local accomplice climbed in to join him as planned, the executive edged closer to the opposite door and tried to mask his disdain. “Are you sure this will work the way I explained? I don’t want any slipups.” Arching an eyebrow, he waited for his rough-hewn, young confederate to answer.

“It’ll work. Ol’ Lester’ll never know what hit him. And he knows better than to open his yap and rat us out.”

“Us?” The silk-suited, older man straightened his tie and smiled malevolently. “There is no us, Denny. You and I have never met, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah. I remember. Just see to it that I get my fair share and we’ll have no problems, Mr. Evans.”

“No names!” The command was unmistakably a threat. He’d meant it to be. Not only did his own future depend upon the success of this plan, he had others to answer to. Others who would be even less forgiving than he was.

“Okay. Don’t go gettin’ all het up. When are you gonna sic the cops on him?”

“Just as soon as you let me know he’s shipped out a couple of batches of booze. We don’t want to shut him down too early. He has to look as guilty as sin.”

“I still don’t get it,” the younger, jeans-clad man said. “Why set him up to make good moonshine and then take him down?”

“You don’t have to understand any more than I choose to tell you.” His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. “I’ll take care of the details. You just do your job. And keep me advised.”

“Yes, sir.” Denny gave a halfhearted salute and reached for the door handle. “Another week or two ought to do it. I got him plenty of sugar and yeast. He’s picking up the sacks of corn from the feed mill, like you said he should.”

“All right. Meet me back here in one week, same day, same time, and I’ll decide what happens next.”

“Lester ain’t gonna like it when he’s arrested. How you gonna keep him from figurin’ out I’m the one that turned him in?”

“I said I’d take care of it and I will,” Evans assured him. “Now get going.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the limousine slipped away into the moonless night and headed for the highway, Evans opened his cell phone, pushed Redial and quickly made a connection.

“It’s all set,” he said.

He listened a moment, then replied, “Don’t worry about Denny. He doesn’t have a clue as to what’s really going on and he won’t say a word about the old man being framed, either.”

He chuckled at the query on the other end of the line, then answered, “No, he won’t get wise or change his mind and sell out to the Feds. He won’t have time to. I have a strong feeling poor Denny is going to meet with a tragic accident long before this bootlegging case goes to trial.”




ONE


Julie Ann Jones loved her career. There was something very rewarding about running the Serenity Salon. She’d always been artistic and she knew cosmetology was the perfect way to put her God-given talent to good use. Her friends had been delighted by her success, which helped make up for the fact that she hadn’t gotten even the slightest inkling of support from her parents.

She usually kept her own honey-brown hair short but had decided to let it grow in order to donate it to an organization that provided wigs for juvenile cancer patients. The longer length was driving her crazy but she was determined to hold out for the sake of the charity.

Her only employee, Sherilyn Fox, was another of her community projects. A high school dropout, Sherilyn had desperately needed a job, so as soon as she’d graduated from beauty school, Julie Ann had hired her. Seeing the girl’s pride and self-worth increasing daily had made Julie Ann feel as if she were looking into a mirror and watching the birth of her own hard-won independence.

Sherilyn burst through the door of the otherwise quiet beauty shop and waved a handful of mail. “You aren’t going to like this, boss.”

“Why? More bills? What a surprise.”

“Uh-uh.” She shook her blond, spiked hair and made a silly face. “Worse.”

“Nothing could be worse than bills,” Julie Ann said. “Trust me. I know.” She grimaced, thinking of the sacrifices she’d made in order to avoid having to ask her parents—or anyone else—for financial help. She was determined to succeed on her own, and so far, so good, despite her father’s criticism.

“Then I guess you’ve never gotten a jury summons before, huh?”

“A what?” Julie Ann snatched the envelope from Sherilyn’s hand, tore it open and unfolded the contents. Her hazel eyes widened and her shoulders sagged. “I don’t believe this. How can I take time off to serve on a jury? I have a business to run.”

“Hey, it’s not like the courthouse is that far away.” Sherilyn pointed out the beauty shop window that fronted the Serenity square. “You could hit it with a rock from here.”

“I’d like to do that right about now,” Julie Ann admitted, “but they’d probably arrest me.” She stared at the summons in her hand. “I can’t spare the time away. Do you suppose they’d excuse me if I explained my problem?”

“Maybe. I suppose it’s worth a try.”

“I’m sure it is.” Refolding the summons, she stuffed it into the pocket of her pastel flowered smock and started for the door. “I don’t have another appointment until Louella’s perm. Hold down the fort for me, will you?”

“Sure. You going to beg?”

“If I have to,” Julie Ann said with a quirky half-smile. “I am friends with a lot of folks over at the courthouse. Surely somebody will be able to help me get excused.”

“Are you positive that’s the right thing to do?” Sherilyn asked. “What if all Christians begged off? Who’d be left?”

Julie Ann was still mulling over that question when she stepped out of her shop and scanned the broad, tree-lined street that flanked the town square. In a way, the girl was right. Who would be left? Then again, the Bible also cautioned believers to be good stewards of what God had given them. If she neglected her business, wouldn’t that be a sin, too?

Satisfied with that, Julie Ann hurried across the street. She could not serve on a jury. Not if she wanted to keep her business afloat, let alone flourishing. A spiky-haired assistant like Sherilyn was fine for the younger crowd but older women weren’t likely to trust her to touch their hair. Julie Ann understood that. Not that she was that much older at twenty-five. She was simply more traditional.

She glanced at her watch as she started up the courthouse walkway. Hopefully she had enough spare time to see the powers that be and get this mess straightened out.

Reaching for the handle of the heavy glass door, she was almost run over by a familiar, broad-shouldered man who was exiting.

His gruff “Excuse me” was not accompanied by a smile. On the contrary, he was glaring at her through coffee-dark eyes. Smith Burnett’s face looked so different from the way she usually saw it that she was taken aback.

“Smith? What’s wrong?”

He paused long enough to hold the door for her. “This,” he said, waving a crumpled piece of paper.

Julie Ann immediately recognized the form. “Jury duty?”

“Yes. They said only the judge himself can excuse me. How am I supposed to run a real estate business if I’m cooling my heels in a jury box?”

She nodded as she fished her own summons out of the pocket of her smock. “I know exactly how you feel. I was hoping…”

“Well, don’t hold your breath,” he said, glancing down the empty hallway of the old, brick building. “I got nowhere. They just told me to fill out a questionnaire and leave the rest to the judge’s discretion.”

“In that case, if you want a haircut from me you’d best be getting it soon,” Julie Ann said, assessing his thick, dark hair. She didn’t want to remember how it had felt to run her fingertips over it when she’d been much younger and far too impressionable. “I’m afraid I may be tied up soon.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Turning away from him and starting down the hallway, she was suddenly aware that her heart was beating fast. It was obviously because she was upset about the summons, discounting the disturbing realization that her shakiness began when she’d encountered Smith. She’d never seen him that animated, that forceful, that…The only other word that came to mind was masculine.

After his stint as a Marine and subsequent return to Serenity, he’d seemed different, yes, but not this different. This was a darker, more dynamic aspect of his personality than she’d ever imagined, let alone glimpsed, and it had affected her all the way from the roots of her hair to her toes.



When she left the courthouse later, Smith was waiting for her. He could tell by her crestfallen expression that she, too, had been denied a reprieve.

All he said was “Hi.”

“Hi. I thought you were headed back to work.”

“I was. I decided to wait and see if you had any more success than I did.”

“Nope. They told me a computer makes the selections and everyone has to take a turn. Now, it’s mine. And yours.”

He nodded. “I apologize for snapping at you earlier. You caught me at a bad time.”

“No problem.”

Hoping she truly did forgive him, he watched her expression closely as he asked, “So, do you have time to cut my hair now?”

“Not really. How about first thing tomorrow?”

“Sounds good.”

“We won’t all be picked to serve, you know,” Julie Ann said, shading her eyes from the sun to look up at him. “The county clerk assured me that most cases are settled by a plea bargain.”

“I know. But since we both have very good reasons for not wanting to be chosen, what do you want to bet we are?”

“I never bet,” she said with a soft laugh, “but I know exactly what you mean. Maybe I should plan on bringing my scissors to the jury waiting room and working there. I could use the extra business.”

He was surprised by her upbeat attitude in the face of such trying circumstances. She had not always been that easygoing. Far from it. Perhaps maturity had mellowed her even more than he’d realized. The stubborn, rebellious teen he recalled from years ago would have pitched a royal fit.

“Well, as long as you’re not mad, I’m satisfied,” Smith said. “Wouldn’t want a woman who stands behind me wielding sharp scissors to be holding a grudge.”

“Smart man.”

Julie Ann really had become more appealing, Smith mused, especially since she’d let her hair grow. Although she now kept that dark-honey-colored hair pulled back, there were always a few silky tendrils that escaped, falling across her cheeks and making her look even more attractive. The funny thing was, every time he saw her, his personal interest increased.

Now that Smith had reached his early thirties, the difference in their ages had become less important than it had seemed seven or eight years ago when he’d escorted her to her senior prom. That one evening had caused him nothing but grief. If he hadn’t been deployed overseas shortly thereafter, there would have been no painless way to avoid Julie Ann. The dozens of mushy letters she’d written to him had been bad enough. Nothing had discouraged her. Not even his attempts to let her down easy.

But things were very different now, weren’t they? His current dilemma was deciding whether or not to deepen the casual friendship they had finally developed and see if they might actually be right for each other.

The last thing Smith wanted to do was explain to her brother, Ben, why she had developed another ridiculous crush on him. The first time had been bad enough. And since he’d promised he’d look after her while Ben and his unit remained abroad, Smith had no intention of going back on his word, even if that meant he had to protect her from himself.

“See you tomorrow morning then,” she said, backing away. “Gotta run.”

Pensive, Smith watched her safely cross the street and enter her shop before he turned to scan the rest of the square. The recently reelected sheriff, Harlan Allgood, was helping a handcuffed, shackled man clad in a bright orange jumpsuit out of a patrol car. Harlan was a good man, if a bit naive. Chances were, the skinny kid he had arrested was not nearly as nefarious as those cuffs and leg irons made him appear.

Dismissing the sight, Smith thought about Julie Ann again and smiled. He’d get his hair cut first thing tomorrow morning, mostly as an excuse to see her.

His smile grew into a lopsided grin. Everything would be fine as long as she didn’t notice that he really wasn’t in need of a trim.



“They’ve arrested Lester’s stupid nephew and they’re lookin’ for Lester,” Denny dutifully reported, climbing into the familiar limo for the third Thursday night in a row.

“I know.”

“Got ’em for making moonshine, just like we planned.”

“I know that, too.”

“Word is, the Feds want Lester real bad and as soon as they catch him, he’s gonna be sent off to Little Rock for trial.”

“I think not,” his well-dressed companion said. “I’m arranging to have him tried right here, first, for something else. The federal government can have whatever’s left of him when we’re done.”

“No matter. It shouldn’t take long. I mean, what else can he be guilty of that matters around here?”

“A crime that will definitely take precedence over running an illegal still.”

“Like what?”

“Like murder,” Evans said quietly, menacingly.

“Lester? He’s quiet as a mouse. He’d never kill nobody.”

“I didn’t say he did it, you fool. I said he was going to be tried for it.”

“But who’s dead?”

The smooth-talking businessman merely smiled. “That’s none of your concern, Denny. You’ve done your job and it’s over.” He reached a gloved hand into his suit coat’s inside pocket and withdrew a bulging envelope. “Here’s your fee. Now get out and get lost.”

“Yes, sir.” The younger man did as he was instructed, slammed the car door, then leaned down to cup his hands around his mouth and shout through the closed window. “You never did tell me. Who’s Lester gonna be blamed for killin’?”

On a simple hand signal from his boss, the limo driver dropped the car into gear and drove away from the scene.

Evans was laughing to himself as he settled against the plush leather of the car’s rear seat and murmured softly, “You.”




TWO


By the time Smith arrived at her shop the next morning, Julie Ann was already upset by the rumors she’d heard. Forcing a smile, she shook out a plastic cape as she said, “Good morning.”

“Morning.” He plopped into her chair and sighed while she wrapped the cape around his neck and prepared him for his haircut. His gaze was somber when it met hers in the mirror. “I take it you’ve heard.”

“About Denny Hanford? Yes. It’s all over town. It’s hard to believe he was actually murdered.”

Smith was nodding. “I didn’t believe it either, at first. They found him last night, by the storage yard out on Highway 9.”

“Poor Denny. Who would do such a thing?”

“Lester Taney was seen in the area. Denny apparently tipped the law to the location of Lester’s bootlegging operation and Lester shot him for it.”

“That’s unbelievable.” Her lips pressed into a thin line as she recalled her high school years. “Denny never was the sharpest pencil in the box but he always seemed to have a pretty good heart.”

“Not according to some of the good old boys around here. You should hear all the talk over at the café.”

“It still doesn’t make sense to me. Bootlegging went out of style with the end of Prohibition.”

“Apparently not. We live in a dry county, and with taxes on liquor so high, I guess it’s still profitable.”

Julie Ann picked up her scissors and began combing and snipping Smith’s thick, dark hair. “You don’t think we’ll be called for that jury, do you?”

“I doubt it. With the way everybody in town knows everybody else, I can’t see how they’d expect to find an impartial jury around here.”

Her eyebrows arched as her gaze again met his in the mirror. “That’s true.”

Eventually laying aside her comb and scissors, she reached for the clippers. This part could be a bit tricky but she was so used to doing it, it was practically automatic.

Consequently, when Smith cleared his throat and asked, “Didn’t you and Denny date years ago?” her clippers jerked and strayed into the back of his hair above the area she’d intended to trim.

Julie Ann’s heartfelt “Ack!” made Smith jump and sent her errant cut even higher.

She stepped back, appalled. “I’m so sorry!”

“How bad is it?”

“Not that bad. I can even it up.”

“Before you take my ear off, maybe you should answer my question. Did you date Denny Hanford?”

“No. Yes. Sort of. We had mutual friends and we all used to run around together.” Although her first instinct had been to deny any connection, she certainly wasn’t going to lie. After all, there was no real tie between her and the poor, dead young man.

She met Smith’s steady gaze in the mirror again. “He’d failed a couple of grades and wound up in my graduating class. There weren’t very many of us so we all knew each other, okay?”

As she bent lower to reshape the thick hair on the back of Smith’s head, she had to force herself to concentrate on what she was doing. Were others going to ask her about her relationship with Denny? Did it really matter? She supposed not. He had been a much closer friend to her older brother, Ben, and when Ben, like Smith, had joined the Marines, she’d been glad to see him far removed from Denny’s questionable influence.

Would that be enough to disqualify her from serving on the murder trial’s jury? Perhaps. And perhaps not. Either way, it wasn’t up to her. If the Good Lord wanted her to serve, she’d have to. That was all there was to it.

The notion of holding another person’s life in her hands, however, made her feel queasy.

Smith looked over his shoulder at her. “You okay?”

“Sure. Fine. Just overworked. Sherilyn didn’t show up this morning and when I phoned to ask her why, she couldn’t stop crying long enough to tell me.”

“Uh-oh. Were she and Denny involved?”

“I don’t think so. She tells me a lot about her love life—usually more than I’d like to hear—and she’s never mentioned his name.”

“Still, they probably ran around with some of the same people.”

Julie Ann reluctantly agreed. “You’re right. Sherilyn had a pretty hard life until recently so that theory fits. I haven’t had much success getting her interested in the youth activities at my church but I keep trying.”

“She just needs to grow up more before she develops common sense.”

Julie Ann met his glance in the mirror, then averted her eyes. “Like I did, you mean?”

“I never said that.”

“No, but you were thinking it.”

When Smith didn’t contradict her, she felt her cheeks warming with embarrassment. They had never talked about her actions following their one date but she knew he hadn’t been infatuated with her, as she’d hoped back then.

She huffed and pressed her lips into a thin line. That was the understatement of the century. If he hadn’t come to her for haircuts after his military buzz cut had grown out, she’d have assumed he never forgave her for the way she’d pursued him. She certainly wouldn’t have blamed him for avoiding her completely. If their roles had been reversed, that’s probably what she would have done. She was a lot smarter these days—even where Smith was concerned.



As Smith had feared, he and Julie Ann were both notified to report for jury selection a few weeks later. He followed her and several others into the courtroom. It wasn’t like the depictions he’d seen on TV and in the movies. There were fifteen rows of padded, armless chairs facing a small, raised, oak-paneled area beneath the Arkansas seal, which was flanked by national and state flags.

Tables were arranged on either side of the judge’s bench and attorneys were already poring over the questionnaires he and the others had filled out.

Smith would have taken a seat beside Julie Ann if other women had not immediately crowded around her and begun chattering like a gaggle of excited geese.

Julie Ann’s name was the fifth one called. She was graceful and pretty as ever, he noted, although she looked terribly tense as she faced the attorneys, Grimes and Lazarus.

“Your name, please?” the portly Grimes asked.

“Julie Ann Jones.”

“And your residence is in Fulton County, Ms. Jones?”

“Yes. I live in Heart, off Squirrel Hill Road.”

“How long have you lived there?”

“Six years. The house was my grandfather’s.”

Smith could tell she was terribly nervous because not only was her voice shaky, she was clasping her hands together so tightly that her fingers were white against the pale blue of her dress. He didn’t doubt that she was taking this a lot more seriously than most of her peers and he feared her attitude would make her a good choice as a juror.

“Were you acquainted with the victim, Denny Hanford, Ms. Jones?”

“Sure. We were kids together and we went to the same schools. Everybody in Serenity did.”

He gestured toward the defendant’s table where an old man in an orange jumpsuit sat, his eyes downcast and shoulders slumped. “How about the accused, Lester Taney?”

“I’ve seen him around.”

As soon as Grimes said, “The people approve,” the judge addressed the defense attorney. “Mr. Lazarus? Do you have any questions for Ms. Jones?”

He shook his graying head, remembering Evans’s instructions. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his gangly neck. “None, your honor.”

“Then we have our first juror.” The judge gestured at the jury box. “Please have a seat, Ms. Jones.”

As Julie Ann took her place, her hazel gaze found Smith’s in the crowd and lingered. She reminded him of a frightened doe, frozen in the middle of the road by the headlights of an oncoming car and unable to jump out of the way of obvious danger.

And she wasn’t the only one who was on edge. Smith didn’t know why, but his senses were as heightened as if he were back in a combat zone and expecting incoming enemy fire at any second.



Three more jurors were seated before the group broke for lunch. Smith’s name had not been called so he was confident it wouldn’t be against the rules to speak to Julie Ann. Falling into step beside her, he left the courthouse with the rest of the group.

Julie Ann stretched and rubbed her neck. “I’m one big knot of tension already. I can’t imagine what the real trial will do to my nerves.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, truly commiserating. “Some of us are going to go grab a bite to eat at Hickory Station. Want to join us?”

“As soon as I check with Sherilyn and see how the shop is running without me,” Julie Ann said. “I canceled all my regulars but there are usually several walk-ins in the mornings.”

“I take it she’s doing better?”

“Yes. The funny thing is, she’s never told me why she was so upset. I expected her to explain when she showed up for work again but she’s acting as if nothing happened.”

“That’s better than leaving you in the lurch when you need to keep the shop open while you’re gone.”

“Boy, that’s the truth.”

He matched Julie Ann’s brisk pace as she crossed the courthouse lawn and then the street. They were almost to the beauty shop when Smith heard a faint crack of sound that made him jump. His military training kicked in with such force that he almost threw himself to the ground and took her with him.

Sheltering Julie Ann with his body, he shoved her through the doorway instead.

“What are you…?”

He wasn’t deterred. Nor did he quit pushing her until they were both well inside. Quickly assessing the room, he spotted the evidence of what he’d feared.

“Look. Up there,” Smith said, pointing to the shop’s front window.

Julie Ann gasped. “Oh my….”

“Somebody just took a shot at us.”

“No way.” As she started toward the front of the salon she kept peering at the tiny, round hole in the window.

Sherilyn joined her. “Whoa. Bummer. I told you those kids with BB guns were going to hit us eventually.”

Incredulous, Smith placed himself between the women and the window, facing them, his arms outstretched to form a barrier. “Stay away from the glass. I’m telling you, that’s no BB.”

“Nonsense,” Julie Ann argued. “It’s just a little bitty hole. What else could it be?”

“Small caliber. Maybe a .22,” Smith said, glancing over his shoulder. “And from the looks of the pattern, it had to have come from high up. Maybe the courthouse.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous. This is Serenity. It’s the middle of the day. Nobody would be shooting around here, let alone aiming at us.”

Smith was about to contradict her when a second bullet hit the window behind him. He’d heard that sound often enough to react without hesitation.

Launching himself at the women, he dove for the floor with an arm around each of them. Rolling as he hit, he cradled their fall with his shoulders and the momentum carried them all out of the path of the firing.

One more half-turn and he had them almost beneath the counter at Julie Ann’s station. He shoved them fully under her station, then leaped to his feet. “Stay put. Don’t move a muscle. Do you hear me?”

Not waiting for their answers, he bolted for the door, straight-armed it, and raced across the street toward the area where he was positive the shots had originated.



Julie Ann was breathless. Speechless. What had just happened? Could Smith have been right? It seemed impossible, yet he was the one with combat training and he did act totally convinced.

She peeked out far enough to look at her front window. There were two distinct holes in it now, separated by several feet. She gasped and ducked back under the counter.

Lying beside her, her employee was sobbing hysterically into cupped hands.

“It’s okay, Sherilyn. We’re fine,” she said before realizing that the girl might have been injured. “Are you okay? Did it hurt you?”

“N-no.” She stifled a sob. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. But at least nobody was hit.” It suddenly occurred to her that Smith’s back had been to the glass when it was hit the second time. She’d assumed that his actions had merely been tactical. Perhaps he had been shot! If he’d been hurt because she had failed to follow his instructions to stay away from the window, she’d never forgive herself.

Julie Ann patted the weeping girl on the shoulder as she raised up and edged partway out from under the counter. “You’ll be safe if you stay here.”

“No! Don’t leave me!”

“I’m not going far,” Julie Ann said, beginning to crawl away. “I’m just going to grab a phone to call the sheriff.”

“He must have heard the shots.”

“Not unless he was close by. I was right here and I didn’t realize what was happening.” But thank the Lord Smith did, she added silently. If he hadn’t been with them, hadn’t reacted so quickly and gotten them out of the line of fire, no telling what shape they’d be in right now. That thought tied her stomach in a knot.

She raised up just enough to reach the portable phone, grabbed it and slid back under the overhanging shelf where she displayed the shampoos and conditioners she offered for sale. Hands shaking, she punched in 9-1-1.

It seemed to take forever for the dispatcher to answer.

When someone finally said, “Nine-one-one operator. Please state your emergency,” Julie Ann was trembling so badly she could hardly get the words out.

“This—this is the Serenity Salon. We’ve been shot at,” she stammered. “Right here on Main Street. It came from the courthouse.”

“Ma’am? Are you injured?”

“No. No, we’re fine. Smith Burnett went across the street after them. Please hurry!”

“Stay right where you are and don’t hang up,” the dispatcher said. “We’re sending a unit.”

Sherilyn grabbed her arm. “What did they say?”

“To stay here and wait on the line.” Julie Ann thrust the phone at the girl. “Here. You do it.”

“Why? Where are you going?”

“After Smith,” Julie Ann said, starting to crawl away. “I’ll sneak out the back door and circle around.”

“No! Don’t go. I can’t stay here by myself. I can’t!”

“You’ll be fine. The sheriff’s office is on the phone and someone will be here in a few minutes,” she called over her shoulder.

“You’re crazy!” The younger woman was shouting, sobbing and screaming hysterically. “We’re all going to get killed—just like Denny!”

There was no way Julie Ann could force herself to sit there and twiddle her thumbs when Smith might be in worse danger. Or wounded. Or both. He could very well have been on the receiving end of that last bullet and had managed to give chase in spite of it.

That thought cut her to the quick. She hesitated only long enough to peer out the rear door, then threw it open and darted into the alleyway.

Staying close to the brick wall, she crept far enough to spy the courthouse before hesitating. A black-and-white cop car was pulling up to the front of her shop while another slid to a stop across the street. That was good enough for her.

Running, she made it across Main and reached the courthouse door mere seconds after the sheriff. His gun wasn’t drawn but he did have his palm resting on the holster.

“Smith Burnett’s in there, Harlan. Don’t shoot him,” she warned hoarsely.

He stopped, stiffened. “Get back.”

“No way.”

Although he didn’t turn, he was clearly aware of who she was because he countered with, “This is a job for me and my deputy, Miz Julie. If you get in the way I’ll arrest you. I mean it.”

She gritted her teeth. “It was my shop somebody was shooting at.”

“All the more reason to stay clear,” Harlan said. “I won’t fire unless somebody points a gun at me. I promise.”

What could she do? She’d known Harlan all her life and doubted that he’d actually arrest her if she defied him, yet anything was possible in a crisis situation. Which this clearly was, she added, chagrined.

The urge to know for sure that Smith was all right was so strong she almost entered anyway. Only the fact that he suddenly appeared at the base of the stairs leading to the upper floors stopped her.

Seeing him alive and well brought tears to Julie Ann’s eyes. She blinked them away rather than let on how moved she was. She’d made the mistake of throwing herself at the poor man once and it had taken her years to live that down. She still cherished the photo of them that had been taken at her senior prom though she rarely looked at it. Her days of mooning over the image of the handsome Marine standing beside her in his dark blue dress uniform were over.

She sobered, remembering the moment when her brother had confessed his part in arranging her prom date. Smith had been doing a favor for Ben, not escorting her because he cared for her. And, because Smith had been so polite, so gentlemanly, she had reacted as if the good-looking Marine had suddenly fallen madly in love with her.

Now, there he stood, out of breath and speaking privately with the sheriff. If he had even noticed that she was present, he hadn’t let on. Well, fine. Now that she knew Smith was all right, she’d go back to her shop and pretend she’d never left it.

Turning, she saw the idling patrol car and shivered. Since she was now thinking more clearly than she had been scant minutes ago, she realized that stepping into the street might very well make her a target. Preserving her pride was not worth that risk. She’d stay. And take the consequences. Even if Harlan didn’t arrest her she knew she was in for a talking-to because there was no way Smith would let her actions slide. Not after he’d given her specific instructions to stay put.

When she looked back and saw the fire in his eyes, she knew her assumption had been correct.

He started toward her.

Julie Ann stood her ground, chin up, spine stiff. If he asked her why she was there, she was going to tell him the truth. Well, most of it, anyway. The embarrassing details regarding her personal concern for him she’d keep to herself.



Smith was so angry, so frustrated, he almost didn’t trust himself to speak. “What are you doing here?”

“I called the sheriff and got you some help.”

“I told you to stay in your shop.”

“Did you catch the shooter?”

“No. There were a couple of shell casings on the roof but that’s all.”

“See? It was safe to come out.”

The absurdity of her statement hit him in the gut and made him want to shake some sense into her. Clenching his fists instead, he said, “You know better than that.”

“This isn’t the inner city and it isn’t a combat zone, either,” Julie Ann argued. “Lighten up, Smith.”

He took a deep breath to help him regain his composure. In a way, she was right. He couldn’t expect a civilian to understand what it felt like to come under fire; to wonder if the next second was going to bring instant death or if your buddies were going to be blown to bits right before your eyes.

Demonstrating a calmness he didn’t feel, he reached out and gently cupped her shoulder, turning and guiding her as he did so. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your shop and we can tell the deputy what we saw while Harlan checks out the courthouse.”

“I wonder why somebody is mad at me?”

Smith pulled her closer, determined to keep himself between her and any perceived threat. When he’d promised Ben that he’d look after his little sister for him, Smith hadn’t dreamed things would take such an ominous turn.

Alert and scanning everything along the street as they crossed, Smith echoed her question. Who could be doing this to Julie Ann? And why? She didn’t seem to have an enemy in the world, let alone one who would shoot at her.

Praise God they had lousy aim, Smith added, wondering if the assailant had actually meant to miss. He sure hoped so, because he couldn’t stick with Julie Ann 24/7 and if that person wasn’t caught, there was a good chance something like this would happen again. Maybe with worse results.




THREE


“I think you should tell the judge what happened,” Smith said on their way back to the courthouse after a grilling by Harlan and his deputy, Boyd.

Julie Ann rolled her eyes. “And accomplish what? Make him think I had somebody shoot my window just so I could be excused? If I hadn’t had to send Sherilyn home to calm down, the shop would still be open.”

“Well, you can’t serve and that’s that.”

She stared at him, incredulous. “What?”

“It’s going to be too dangerous.”

“Phooey. Do you think a couple of little holes in a window are going to stop me from doing what the Lord wants?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. God has nothing to do with all this.”

“Oh, no? Don’t you believe in God?”

“Sure, I do. I’m as good a foxhole Christian as the next guy. But I don’t think God is managing my whole life. That’s what He gave us brains for.”

Julie Ann shook her head and faced him, her lips pressed into a thin line, her hands fisted on her hips. “Look, Mr. Burnett, I appreciate your concern, really I do, but if the Good Lord had not wanted me on this jury, I wouldn’t have been chosen. Period. End of discussion.”

She yanked open the courthouse door before Smith could do it for her and stomped in ahead of him. She’d had her fill of being told what to do by her overbearing father. She’d been making her own choices for a long time. Good choices. Sane choices.

Praise the Lord she hadn’t been right about Smith’s amorous interest in her in the past, she added, a bit surprised by the thought. He might have many sterling attributes but he was also the kind of stubborn, domineering man she’d never allow herself to become romantically involved with, no matter what.

Naturally, her Southern upbringing and the fact that Smith was a close friend of Ben’s precluded any behavior other than absolute politeness. That did not mean, however, that she was going to be all sugary and sweet to him from now on. The gall of the man, ordering her to use the vandalism as an excuse to back out of serving on the jury.

If anything, the holes in her shop window were all the more reason why she was intent on doing her sworn duty, even if Sherilyn wasn’t able to pull herself together and come back to work after their fright.

As she entered the courtroom and took her seat in the jury box, however, Julie Ann was already having second thoughts. No matter how hard she tried to reason away the attack, someone seemed to have it in for her. Someone right here in Serenity. And the first indication of that had come right after she’d been chosen for this jury.



By the end of the first day, three men and four women had been approved by both the prosecuting and defense attorneys, though Smith had not yet been interviewed. He left the courthouse in time to watch Julie Ann dart across the street and pause long enough to unlock the front door of her salon. Someone, probably Harlan, had stuck silver duct tape over the breaks in the window. It wasn’t pretty but it seemed an adequate temporary fix.

Hesitating, Smith removed his blazer and slung it over his shoulder by one finger while he tried to decide what to do next. That woman wasn’t rational about life in general and her vulnerability in particular. Still, what could he do? He supposed he could follow her home and try to keep an eye on her from a distance.

“And get myself arrested for stalking,” Smith muttered to himself, thoroughly disgusted. “Ben would laugh his head off.”

Nevertheless, he crossed the street and circled to the rear of the salon, expecting to catch Julie Ann leaving and at least caution her again when she locked up for the day. There was one fairly new, two-door compact car parked there on a gravel pad.

He stared. Circled the parked vehicle to check further. Then, he did the only logical thing, he banged on the back door of the beauty salon with his fist.

When Julie Ann responded, he merely stepped out of the way and gestured toward the car.

She burst through the door like a shot. “My car! What happened?”

“Beats me.” Smith stood back, frowning. “Looks like somebody flattened all your tires. Has this ever happened before?”

“No. Never. They were fine when I used this door earlier. At least I think they were.” She stared at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was planning to talk some sense into you and then make sure you got home safely.”

“Why?”

“It just seemed like the right thing to do.” He wasn’t about to admit he’d begun hanging around her more as a favor to her brother and fellow Marine than because he’d actually wanted to. This task had long since progressed past that. It was his duty to look after Julie Ann. That was all there was to it.

“I’ll wait right here. Go call Harlan again,” Smith said.

To his relief, she ducked back inside and quickly re-emerged carrying a portable phone. Smith listened as she did what he’d suggested, then hung up.

“The sheriff says he’ll be right over,” Julie Ann told him with a sigh and shake of her head as she stared at the damage. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“Neither can I.” He paused, thoughtful. “I wonder if Harlan has had any other odd reports since the jury selection began.”

“I’d thought of that possible connection, too. Do you suppose this is all happening because of the trial?”

“It’s the only thing I can think of that’s changed in the past twenty-four hours.”

“I hope you’re wrong.”

Smith nodded sagely. “I hope so, too.” He looked up as the sheriff’s black-and-white vehicle cruised slowly into the alley and stopped next to Julie Ann’s car.

As Harlan got out and hitched up his gun belt, Smith decided that the portly man looked more serious than he had after they’d turned up no suspects from the first call.

The sheriff circled the vandalized car, then used his radio to request a tow truck before addressing Julie Ann.

“I’m sorry, Miz Julie,” Harlan said. “I’ll need to take your car in and get it looked at. I think the tires are okay but I’m hoping the perpetrator left fingerprints when he messed with ’em. It’s worth a closer look.” He glanced at Smith. “Will you be able to see the lady home or shall I have my deputy, Boyd, do it?”

“I’ll give her a lift,” Smith said before Julie Ann had time to object.

“Good.” Harlan looked from one to the other, settling his sober gaze on Julie Ann. “I want you to be real careful, ma’am. I’d feel a lot better if you wasn’t alone too much, if you get my drift.”

“I live alone, Sheriff,” she countered. “And I like it that way. Thank you for your concern but I can look after myself. I’ll be fine.”

Smith wasn’t anywhere near satisfied. “Okay, Harlan. What else is bothering you?”

“Besides the shooter at lunchtime you mean?” He sighed noisily, seeming reluctant to go on. Finally he said, “There was an accident up on Route 9 a little while ago. The steering failed on Estelle Finnerty’s car and she plowed into a ditch. She’s okay but she was pretty shaken up.”

Julie Ann gasped. “Estelle was chosen for Lester’s jury today—just like me.”

“That looks an awful lot like a pattern to me,” Smith said, taking note of Julie Ann’s worried look. Now that Harlan had confirmed their suspicions that jurors were being targeted, she’d have to inform the judge.

His fists clenched. If logic didn’t get through that thick skull of hers pretty soon, he didn’t know what he’d do, but somebody had to do something.

She must have seen the change in his expression because her eyes narrowed. “What?”

“It’s like this,” Smith said. “There’s a fair chance that somebody is trying to frighten jurors—or worse—and you need to take that threat more seriously than you have been so far.”

“I’m supposed to be scared of flat tires?”

“No. You’re supposed to be worried about bullet holes. Watch yourself like the sheriff says. Go stay with a friend till he can catch whoever’s behind all this.”

“I’ll do nothing of the kind.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Smith said. “In that case, you’d better get used to me or Harlan or Boyd being parked outside your house all night.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t sleep in your car.”

“I will if you force me to.”

“And you call me stubborn.”

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Smith’s neck began to prickle. He tensed, quickly scanning the area. There was no one visible except Harlan and Julie Ann, but still…

His gaze met hers. “You feel it, too, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted, although she folded her arms across her chest as if she were chilly in spite of the warm temperature.

“I think we’re being watched,” Smith said.

Harlan reacted immediately. “Both of you get in my car and wait while I lock up for Miz Julie Ann. I’ll order a drive-by patrol for here and for her house.”

Smith helped Julie Ann into the front seat of the sheriff’s car. He’d started to close the door when movement on the shop’s roof caught his eye. It was just a fleeting shadow, yet it impressed him as being the size and shape of a grown man. A potential sniper. Just like the ones he’d encountered so often in battle.

Glare from the setting sun over the top of the block building made Smith’s eyes water as he shaded them and tried to make out more details.

He had almost convinced himself that his imagination was working too hard until he looked at Julie Ann. Her hazel eyes were wide, her expression revealing. She was clearly afraid. And she was no longer trying to hide or deny it.



For the first time since she’d inherited the old, isolated farm, Julie Ann wasn’t happy to be coming home. The pastures which lay to the sides and back of her white-painted frame house seemed too wide and desolate. And the forest of oak, hickory and cedar flanking them was filled with dark, forbidding shadows. If she felt this uneasy in daylight, how was she going to feel once the sun set?

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come in and check the house for you?” Smith asked as he pulled into the circular, gravel driveway and stopped. “I don’t mind.”

Julie Ann almost said yes before she gritted her teeth and shook her head. She was not going to give in to irrational fear. And she certainly was not going to let Smith think she needed babysitting.

“No, thanks. That won’t be necessary,” she told him. “I have an enormous dog inside. He’s very protective. If anybody gets past my Andy, they belong here.”

Smith started to get out just the same, so she insisted. “I said, I’ll be fine.”

Though he didn’t look convinced, he did back off. “Okay. I’ll watch till I see that you’re safely inside. And lock the door.”

Satisfied that that was as good as the situation was likely to get, she climbed out of the SUV and paused for a moment, hoping her shaking knees weren’t going to give her away. “Okay. Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re quite welcome. I still wish you’d let me…”

Dismissing Smith with a shake of her head, she reached the porch quickly and without faltering. The instant she opened the door and was greeted by her dogs, she relaxed. Thank goodness she was a sucker for sad eyes, cold noses and floppy ears.

Julie Ann turned in the doorway and waved, waiting till Smith had driven off to close the door. Both her dogs had apparently sensed her unusual anxiety because they were acting apprehensive, each in its own way.

Big, stalwart Andy, the black Labrador-Shepherd crossbreed, stationed himself right inside the front door. Bubbles, a nondescript, dusty-colored mop of dog hair with an attitude, ran loops through the house before leaping and landing next to Julie Ann when she plopped onto the couch.

She ruffled the dog’s wiry hair. “I’m glad to see you, too, girl.”

Panting and looking very pleased with herself, Bubbles wiggled in response to her master’s voice, wagging the entire rear half of her stubby little body.

Julie Ann sighed. “I wish you could talk. Then again, maybe it’s just as well you can’t. I’ve had plenty of unasked-for advice already today.”

Picturing Smith Burnett’s handsome face, she felt comforted yet penitent for being so gruff with him when she knew he was merely trying to help. The fact that he had volunteered to stand guard all night, if need be, made her feel better even though she had sent him away. Any possible source of tranquility was nice to ponder, especially given the kind of day she’d had.

Bubbles jumped down, circled the sofa at a run and bunched a throw rug into a pile when she cut a sharp corner in and out of the archway leading to the country kitchen.

“I know. You’re hungry. Come on. Let’s go see what we can find for you to eat.”

Julie Ann rose and started to cross the small living room. She sensed Andy’s bulk at her side before she reached the tiled kitchen floor and heard the click of his nails on the vinyl. He seemed to be mirroring her restless mood a lot more than the other dog. She didn’t mind one bit. The closer he crowded, the better she liked it.

She laid her hand atop his broad, dark head and petted him without having to bend down. “Yes, you too, you big lummox. What would I do without my furry buddies?”

Andy’s cold nose nudged her hand in response to the loving tone. Julie Ann knew her dogs couldn’t understand every word but she also knew they weren’t totally clueless.

Picking up their food dishes, she mixed softer food into hard kibble, then set both dishes on the floor the way she always did.

Bubbles immediately dug in. Andy, however, approached his dish as if he were expecting the food to bite him back.

“It’s okay, boy. Go ahead. Eat.”

Still, the big, black dog refused. He tensed. The hackles on his back rose and Julie Ann heard a throaty growl begin to rumble deep in his chest. Bubbles was impressed enough to pause and glance at him but only for a moment.

Heart racing, Julie Ann scanned the kitchen. Nothing looked out of place. “What is it? What’s the matter, Andy?”

The dog was staring at the back door the way a hungry wolf eyed a juicy meal. Had she locked that door? Of course not. She didn’t usually bother with such silly precautions. Nothing had ever happened in Serenity to make her fearful or to cause her to change her habits. Until today.

Andy’s low, menacing growl continued. Julie Ann thought she saw the doorknob turn. She froze. Her breath caught and she held it, hoping, praying that her overactive imagination was responsible.

No. The knob actually was turning. What now? What should she do? If she ran to the door, would she have time to throw the dead bolt? And even if she accomplished that, would it be enough deterrent, or would it merely make her prowler mad and cause him to force his way inside?

Time stood still. Julie Ann’s whole body was trembling. So was Andy’s. What began as another growl ended as a deep, warning bark. The movement of the knob ceased.

That was enough incentive for Julie Ann. She lunged toward the door.

Andy, barking louder in response to her affirmative actions, was right beside her. Even Bubbles finally joined in with rapid yaps and frantic, scrambling dashes back and forth across the slick kitchen floor.

Julie Ann put out her hand. Grabbed the dead bolt. Twisted it locked.

Just then, the doorknob quivered and made a half turn. Julie Ann knew she’d locked the door just in time because if she had not acted, whoever was outside would now be standing in her kitchen, facing her.

By this time, Andy was in full attack mode. Barking and growling, he hit the wooden door with his front feet, making the whole thing shake.

Julie Ann didn’t try to stop or restrain the dog. She wanted her prowler to be good and scared, hopefully enough that he’d go away or at least answer when she shouted, “Who’s there?”

All noise and movement suddenly ceased. Andy cocked his head. His ears lifted. Then, he suddenly wheeled and raced back to the living room with Bubbles in scatterbrained, halfhearted pursuit.

By the time Julie Ann realized the new avenue of threat, her protective dog was already barking at the front door, once again ready to defend her.

Smith had told her to lock that door. Had she? She didn’t remember. And now Andy was clearly warning her. How long would it take a person to circle her house and reach the front porch? Longer than it took her to go directly there from the kitchen, she reasoned. But not that much longer.

With trembling hands and a shaky grip, she engaged the locking mechanism on that door, then proceeded to the windows that were the easiest to access from the porch and secured them, as well.

She hadn’t actually spotted anyone prowling outside but they were there just the same. She felt it. And once the sun set, she wouldn’t be able to see any farther than the circles of illumination cast by her porch lights.

Andy stayed close beside her every step of the way, often so near that she had to nudge him aside to reach the windows.

“What’s this world coming to when a person has to lock everything just to feel safe?” she muttered.

Andy’s only response was to nuzzle her hand.

She paused just long enough to give him another pat, then finished with the windows that sat higher off the ground than a man could normally reach. If her prowler had a ladder and tried to open one of those, he’d be thwarted then, too.

The whole scenario was beginning to make her angry. How dare anyone try to get into her home? How dare they frighten her this way? She didn’t deserve to have her salon window broken or her tires flattened, and she certainly wasn’t going to allow herself to become a further victim. Not if she could help it.

Grabbing her phone she dialed the emergency number. Instead of the part-time dispatcher she had expected, Harlan answered the call.

“Sheriff’s office.”

Julie Ann was surprised to hear his voice.

“It’s me. Julie Ann Jones,” she said, gripping the phone tightly. “There’s a prowler outside my house.”

“What makes you think so?”

His question was irksome. “Because the dog is barking, the door rattled and the knob turned, only nobody said a word when I hollered at them. Isn’t that enough?”

“It’ll do,” the sheriff answered. “Sit tight and stay inside. I’ll send Boyd right over.”

“Okay.” Julie Ann nodded as she ended the call. Her brain had been spinning wildly during the crisis but she was now thinking more clearly. As long as she was stuck in an isolated house at least a half mile from her nearest neighbor, she was far too vulnerable. Harlan had only one full-time deputy and the county owned two patrol cars. Period. How much time could he and Boyd afford to devote to looking after her? Very little, especially since her farm was so far out of town.

She had only two choices, she decided easily. She’d either have to phone Smith and admit she needed protecting or go to Grandpa Willis’s trunk, dig through the personal items he had willed her when he’d died, and find the revolver they had shared when he’d taught her how to shoot.

As much as she hated the idea of running around the house armed like a gunslinger from a western movie, she wasn’t going to just sit there and become a helpless victim.

And she certainly was not going to phone Smith Burnett and admit she needed protection, particularly his. She was a country girl, born and raised. She could take care of herself. At least she hoped she could.




FOUR


Smith was still concerned and thinking about Julie Ann when he drove past his office near the town square. A sheriff’s car, lights flashing and siren wailing, raced by him going the opposite direction. His heart leaped and felt as if it were lodged in his throat. The patrol car was heading in the direction of Julie Ann’s!

He tried to shrug off his misgivings, found he couldn’t, and decided to make a U-turn and follow. If he got as far as her neighborhood and didn’t spot the police, he’d go on home and try to forget he’d been so impulsive. The last thing he needed was to have her so mad at him for disregarding her wishes that she purposely tried to thwart his efforts to look after her.

As he rounded the final bend on Squirrel Hill Road and glanced up at the hillside, his breath caught. The rotating beacons of the blue and red lights were right in front of Julie Ann’s house.

What’d happened to her?

Smith accelerated and began to drive as if he were racing against an unseen nemesis. Thank goodness his SUV was built to take the punishment of pothole-filled, rock-strewn, dirt roads. His hands held the wheel in a death grip. His jaw clenched. He should never have left her without insisting he check that house first. Never. No matter how much she’d protested against it.

As he skidded to a stop behind the sheriff’s car, he spotted two figures standing in the shadows. He bailed out, ready to do battle. Julie Ann was easy to recognize but the tall, skinny guy with her had better have a very good reason to be there.

Jogging toward the porch, Smith realized that the other man was Harlan’s deputy. That did little to relieve his disgust with himself for leaving Julie Ann alone and his anger at her for insisting she’d be fine.

“What happened?” Smith immediately demanded, shouting in order to be heard over the noisy barking coming from inside the house.

Boyd shook his head and answered. “Don’t rightly know. Miz Jones thought she had a prowler. Nobody was around when I got here.”

“Considering your lights and siren, that’s not too surprising,” Smith grumbled. He stared at her. “You okay?”

“Fine. Why did you come back?”

“I saw the police car driving this way.”

“What made you think it was headed out here?”

“Gut feelings.” Smith raked his fingers through his hair. “I just took a chance, okay? After everything else that’s happened today it was a reasonable conclusion.”

She seemed to accept that explanation, yet Smith could tell she was not totally convinced that he needed to be there. “What do I have to do to make you believe you’re in danger?” he asked.

“There’s no need to worry about me,” Julie Ann replied. “I can take care of myself.”

“Oh? It doesn’t look like it to me.”

The gangly deputy agreed. “That’s what I was tellin’ her when you drove up. Maybe you can talk some sense into her.” He touched the brim of his hat in parting. “Well, there’s nothing more I can do here. If you see anybody who looks funny, you give us another call, ma’am.”

Smith stepped aside to let Boyd pass, then rejoined Julie Ann. “I want to know everything. Tell me what happened.” When she turned slightly and he saw that she was wearing a sidearm in an old leather holster, he pointed and said exactly what he was thinking. “Good grief, woman. Where did you get that?”

“It was my grandpa’s.” Her hand rested on the ivory grip but she gave no indication that she was going to draw the pistol to show it to him.

“And that’s why you think you’ll be safe?” Smith huffed in disparagement. “You’re more likely to hurt yourself with that thing.”

“Grandpa Willis taught me how to shoot. I know what I’m doing.”

“Suppose somebody takes it away from you and turns the tables? What then?”

She scowled. “You’re just full of wonderful ideas, aren’t you?”

“I’m being sensible. You can’t go around like Annie Oakley. Haven’t you ever heard of Mace or a Taser gun?”

“Sure, I have. I just don’t happen to have either in my closet and I did have this gun. Under the circumstances, it seemed like a good idea to get it out and load it.”

Smith gestured toward the porch swing and spoke as calmly as he could. “Will you please sit down and talk to me? I really would like to know what happened.”

When she hesitated, he added a second “Please?”

“All right. As soon as I let Andy and Bubbles out so they don’t bark themselves hoarse or beat down the door. If Andy thinks you’re okay, we’ll talk.”

Her attitude was off-putting. “Then I sure hope he likes me because I intend to hang around until I hear your whole story.”

To Smith’s relief, Julie Ann didn’t just fling open the front door and let her mammoth dog charge out to attack. She spoke to Andy calmly, then put one hand on his collar and escorted him to meet her guest while the much smaller mutt ran in rapid circles on the porch, panting excitedly with its nose to the ground as if hot on the trail of a wild rabbit.

Andy eased up to Smith, sniffed his shoes and pants legs, then ducked his broad, black head under the man’s hand as if greeting a trustworthy old friend.

Wiggling his fingers slightly, Smith scratched the dog’s velvety ears. “I think I get to stay.”

“Looks like it,” Julie Ann said with a surprised expression.

“You didn’t think we’d get along?”

“Actually, no. Andy was abused by his former owner. He doesn’t usually take to strangers.”

“I see. Well, since your excuse for ordering me to leave is gone, now what?”

“We talk.” Adjusting the holster for comfort, she chose a seat at one end of the hanging porch swing and gestured to the empty place. “Since you’re already here, I suppose I may as well go ahead and fill you in on the details. Then we can check around back for clues.”

“Boyd didn’t look?”

She shook her head slowly and pressed her lips into a thin line. “Nope. I guess he assumed I was just a panic-stricken woman who imagined a prowler because I was too high-strung.”

“Did you actually see anyone?”

“No. But Andy was sure there was someone on the back porch.”

“Could he have been mistaken?”

Shivers ran up Smith’s neck when she answered, “Not unless doorknobs turn all by themselves.”



Julie Ann did her best to relate the most recent events in a way that sounded calm and self-assured. If she hadn’t sensed Smith’s growing tension as she spoke, she might have thought she’d been successful at masking her own fear. Now that the supposed danger was past, she did feel a bit silly for having been so frightened.

“So, after I called the sheriff, I dug out Grandpa’s old pistol. I don’t intend to take it to work but it did seem like a pretty good idea to keep it handy here. At least until I figure out what’s going on.”

Seeming to sense her continued anxiety, Andy wagged his tail and laid his chin on her lap.

“If I’d heard that big moose barking inside your house, I sure wouldn’t have opened the door.” Smith stood. “Why don’t you put the dogs up while I grab a flashlight from my truck? Then we’ll walk around back and check it out.”

“Do you really think we might find tracks or something?”

“I hope not,” Smith said. “But if we do, I intend to phone Harlan myself and tell him what I think of his deputy’s careless treatment of a crime scene.”

Julie Ann led Andy and Bubbles to the screen door and ushered them inside, firmly closing the heavier, paneled door while Smith went to fetch the flashlight.

“Nothing actually happened,” she said when he returned.

“Only by the grace of God.”

Agreeing but not commenting, Julie Ann followed him off the porch and around the side of the house. Truth to tell, if Smith had not been beside her, she would have gone back into the house with Andy and locked the doors again instead of proceeding into the shadowy depths of her garden.

The enormous hydrangea at the corner of the porch was merely an innocent plant. She knew that as well as she knew her own name, yet its leaves seemed to flutter and reach for her like grasping hands. The shade trees cast creepy, moonlit shadows on the lawn. A whip-poor-will’s call sounded plaintive and eerie. Every normally innocent sound or sight made her tense up as if she were about to be attacked.

Her palm rested atop the pistol grip. She didn’t know if she could actually shoot anyone who threatened her but she wasn’t going to hesitate to bluff if the need arose.

When Smith put out his arm to block her forward movement, she almost ran into him. “What?”

He pointed the flashlight beam. “If those are your footprints, you have a lot bigger feet than I thought.”

Staring at the imprints, she gasped. Her mouth was suddenly so dry she couldn’t swallow. “I—I don’t wear boots with a waffle sole. I never have.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

Smith reached into his pocket and took out a cell phone. Julie Ann hugged herself and listened while he made a call to Harlan and explained what they’d found.

As soon as he hung up, she asked “Is he sending Boyd back?” The disgusted expression on Smith’s face answered her question even before he spoke.

“No. They’re busy with an accident out on the highway. No one’s available.”

She saw him tilt his head to eye the sky and noticed that the previously clear evening was starting to look suspiciously cloudy. “Do you think it’s going to rain before they can get here?”

“Knowing Arkansas, that’s a strong probability. Especially this time of year. Can you think of any way we can shelter those prints to preserve them?”

“I suppose we could put a box or something like that over them but if the rain is heavy, it’ll probably wash the whole thing away.” Frustrated, she clenched her fists. “Nobody believes me. I tell them there’s a prowler and nobody believes me.”

“I do,” Smith said.

Julie Ann sensed the truth of his statement though she could not clearly see his face. Of course, they were standing there staring at proof in the narrow beam of light so it wasn’t exactly a stretch for him to vouch for her veracity. Still, she was grateful. “Thanks.”




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