My deadly valentine, p.8

  My Deadly Valentine, p.8

My Deadly Valentine
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  “Okay, but turn off the inside lights so you’re not silhouetted in the doorway. The darker it is, the better.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Slowly stepping onto the porch, he crouched, prepared for an attack. None came. His eyes adjusted to the dimness. The neighborhood was so quiet it was spooky. Half the houses were dark and the rest showed light only in one or two windows, probably because the occupants were watching television.

  Jace straightened. Took one step, then another. He looked down. A rough-edged rock the size of a softball lay near the edge of the wooden decking. He flicked on his flashlight and directed it at the outside of the half-open door.

  “What are you doing?” Rachel asked. “I thought you wanted me to be in the dark.”

  “I did. I do. But come around and look at that mark on the porch. I think I know what happened.”

  “You do? What?”

  “I think he managed to place the envelope on your porch between the time you got home and I got to the surveillance equipment and turned it on. Then, all he had to do was wait for dark and throw a rock at your door to get you to open it.”

  Jace saw her shiver and wrap her arms around herself. “You know what that means?”

  “Yes,” he said soberly. “It means he’s a lot smarter than we’ve given him credit for. And he was very, very close to both of us.”

  ELEVEN

  Rachel wasn’t sure she would ever feel safe again, no matter where she was or who was looking out for her. The past week was a blur, partly because she hadn’t slept well and partly because every time she dozed off her dreams were filled with a sense of impending doom.

  Not only that, her father had confronted Pastor Logan and the sheriff, found out what was going on, and had insisted that he be included in the rotating surveillance team. Although he would not have been her first choice to keep watch, she had to admit that his presence was allowing the other men to get some much needed rest.

  While Pastor Logan and her father took turns keeping watch in the Duggins house, Jace slept on Rachel’s sofa, well chaperoned by the others via the camera system. At this point, she was far less worried about her reputation than she was about surviving. And she trusted Jace implicitly. The only problem might be unfounded gossip, and, the way she saw it, that was the least of her worries.

  The sheriff’s office had failed to trace the threatening call, and the labs in both Arkansas and Illinois had provided no additional clues. However, since the arrival of the black-edged Valentine, Rachel’s life had been fairly uneventful. She’d spent quiet days with Eloise in the card store, had eaten most of her meals out, and had welcomed Jace to his place on her sofa each evening.

  She was getting pretty comfortable about his continued presence, she noticed, not at all sure whether or not that was a good thing. Eloise, of course, was privy to all the details, including the temporary arrangements for live-in protection, and had vowed to keep Rachel’s secret for as long as was necessary.

  “I think you should do like Becky Malloy and learn to shoot,” Eloise remarked as soon as she and Rachel had finished with their most recent customer and were alone in the shop.

  “I’d probably get nervous and shoot myself in the foot,” Rachel said, smiling. “Besides, how often would I need to defend myself?”

  “I don’t know. Once is too often if you ask me. If this situation wasn’t serious, I doubt that Harlan would be patrolling your street so often or that that nice young deputy would be sleeping on your couch.”

  “Hush. You’ll start gossip.”

  “No need to worry. There’s plenty going around already. I’ll sure be glad when I can spill the beans and tell everybody that Pastor Malloy and your dad are watching over you while that man is sleeping in your house. Otherwise, you’ll never live it down.”

  “I know. I wish there were some other way to handle the situation, but Jace is afraid to leave me alone.”

  “Well, the whole plan strikes me as foolish,” Eloise said. “There must be some other way to catch whoever is harassing you.” As she spoke, she was straightening the card racks.

  Rachel stepped up and helped her. “I thought it was a good idea at first. But since they’ve made no progress, I wonder.”

  “It is a shame how times have changed since I was a girl,” Eloise said. “I remember when Delbert was courting me.” She smiled wistfully. “He was so shy it was cute. We used to sit on the porch swing at my parents’ farmhouse and hold hands and talk for hours, even in the summer when the skeeters were biting something awful.”

  “I wish…”

  The older woman arched a gray eyebrow. “You wish what? That you could find a man like him? Well, there was only one like my Delbert, but that Jace Morgan fella seems pretty sweet on you.”

  “He’s just doing his job,” Rachel insisted.

  “Oh, yeah? Since when do cops volunteer to sleep on people’s couches? You can’t fool me, dear. You and he are an item, as they say in the supermarket tabloids.”

  “We’re not. Not really.” Rachel felt her cheeks warming. “At least not on his part. He wouldn’t be anywhere near me unless he felt he had to be.”

  “Who says? Him?”

  “Well, no, but…”

  Before she could express the thought completely, Eloise gasped. She was making a sour face when she looked at Rachel. “Mercy me, girl. I know some of my choices are a bit old-fashioned, but don’t you think that’s a bit much for the folks in Serenity?”

  “What is?”

  Eloise pointed. “That card. I’ve heard about those kids who mope around, dress all in black and even paint their fingernails that color. They call themselves Goths or something. Surely you don’t mean to encourage them.” She reached toward the black-edged card she’d found tucked behind a classic Valentine.

  “Don’t touch that!” Rachel shouted. “Get away from it.”

  “Why? Is there something wrong?”

  “Yes.” Rachel knew she was shaking as she grabbed a phone and dialed 9-1-1. “This is Rachel Hollister at Serenity Cards and Gifts,” she said as soon as the dispatcher answered. “Send somebody over right away. I’ve had another contact.”

  “I don’t know how it got there,” Rachel told Jace and the sheriff. Harlan merely huffed, tugged at the gun belt below his paunch and walked out of the store.

  Jace lingered. He’d already bagged the suspect card in plastic but he hated to just leave without making sure Rachel was going to be okay.

  “I get off duty in a few hours,” he said. “Want to meet me for supper? We can always grab another pizza at Hickory Station.”

  “I’d really rather just go home and crash,” she said. “This whole mess has worn me out.”

  He massaged the back of his neck, remembering the kinks he always got in it while sleeping on her sofa. “Yeah. Me, too. How about letting me get takeout, then? We can eat it under Logan’s or your father’s watchful eye.”

  “They must be exhausted, too. How much longer does this have to go on?”

  “Until we catch the guy,” Jace said flatly. “I’m sorry it’s taking so long. I was beginning to think he’d given up until you found this card.”

  “So was I.” She shuddered visibly and glanced at the neat racks of colorful greeting cards. “I can’t understand how anyone could have placed it without us noticing.”

  “It could have been anybody,” Eloise piped up. “What is this old world coming to?”

  “There are good and bad people everywhere, even here,” Jace said. “Are you two sure you checked all the slots? There’re no other cards like this?”

  “Absolutely,” Rachel said. “We even went through the extra stock in the drawers. There was just the one.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you around five-thirty, quarter to six.” He forced a smile in the hopes it would calm Rachel’s jitters. “Pepperoni and mushroom with extra cheese, right?”

  “That sounds fine,” she said.

  Eloise laughed. “Gotta love a fella who remembers just what a lady likes,” she said with a wink. “I don’t know about Rachel, here, but you’ve convinced me you’re a real prince, young man.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I do aim to please.” He touched the brim of his cap in parting and headed for the door, hoping he didn’t look as worried as he really was.

  Harlan might not think this was a serious event, but Jace did. The person who had placed that card had been within reach of Rachel, meaning she wasn’t safe even in public. There was little more he could do, yet his mind—and his heart—kept insisting that he act.

  As he climbed into the patrol car and dropped the bagged card onto the seat beside him, he sighed deeply. He had made the worst mistake any officer could make—he had gotten emotionally involved with a victim and was therefore less able to remain objective, especially in regard to her ongoing safety.

  What he wanted to do was take Rachel in his arms and hold her tight against any whisper of danger, now or in the future. And because that was physically impossible, he was so distracted that his brain was practically useless. Yes, he had implemented a clever plan. And, yes, they were continuing to keep watch, both in person when Rachel was home and by leaving the videotape running even when she was gone. Still, there had to be something else he could do, something he was overlooking.

  He shook his head in disgust. As far as he knew, he and the others had taken all necessary steps. So why had they failed to nab the suspect? And how much longer were Pastor Logan and George Hollister going to be able to stand watch? Logan would probably have to back off soon in order to resume his normal pastoral duties, and then the whole task would fall to George.

  If Harlan had been scheduled to take a shift it would have helped, but Jace and Rachel both preferred having Logan and her father do it, primarily because their presence lent a sense of tacit approval to the touchy situation. As long as those men were watching, they knew there would be far less criticism of their unusual sleeping arrangements once they could make the whole story public.

  “And I do care about preserving Rachel’s good reputation,” Jace told himself. “She’s a very special person.”

  That’s the understatement of the century, he added silently, dismayed. In the space of mere weeks she had become the most important woman in his life. If things worked out, he was hoping she would consider becoming a permanent part of the rest of his days.

  He huffed. No sweat. All he had to do was make sure she survived her stalker, then change her mind about cops after a lifetime of her father’s negative influence.

  Maybe tonight, as they shared their evening meal, he’d raise the subject of a possible romantic relationship, especially if George wasn’t the one on duty. That way, Jace could watch Rachel’s expression and judge whether or not she accepted his suggestion.

  He didn’t know which was going to be harder to deal with in the long run: threats of danger or Rachel’s off-putting attitude. He suspected it might be a toss-up.

  The rest of the day seemed to drag by. Rachel checked her watch repeatedly, then locked the shop door several minutes early. Eloise had already gone home, complaining about sore feet and worsening arthritis due to an impending storm front, and Rachel didn’t much like being left in the quiet store alone.

  All afternoon she had racked her brain, trying to recall each customer who had dropped by that day. It was no use. They all ran together in her memory until she was unable to tell one from another. Besides, she reasoned, there was an outside chance that the distressing card had been placed in that rack a long time prior to its discovery. Just because no one had noticed it did not mean that its presence was new.

  That thought gave her the shivers. She grabbed her keys, locked up and hurried to her car. The moment she was safely behind the wheel she locked those doors, too.

  It was a few minutes after five-thirty and there was no sign of Jace or his familiar patrol car. He had probably meant he’d pick up the pizza and they’d meet at her house rather than here, she reasoned.

  Yearning to be home and feel safe again, she started the compact car and pulled into the street. Once she and Jace were together again she’d be able to unwind, she told herself. At least she wouldn’t be fearful.

  As far as really relaxing was concerned, however, she wasn’t all that calm in his presence. It was comforting to be with him. It was also exhilarating. And pleasant beyond reason. She looked forward to their time together as if he were her reason for living, the sunshine in her otherwise drab life.

  Admitting that, even to herself, was scary. She was no fool. She knew exactly what was going on. She had stupidly fallen for a cop, of all people, and she had no earthly idea what to do about it.

  Earthly idea, no, she affirmed. But God was in charge of her life so He was the one to ask. She wanted to pray. Sort of. Except she was afraid she might not like the divine answer she received. If God had not placed Jace Morgan in her life so that he would become a lasting part of it, perhaps he was simply the method the Good Lord was using to rid her of her prejudice against officers like her father.

  That notion stuck in her mind and refused to be banished. Surely, after all she’d been through, she was not going to lose Jace. That wouldn’t be fair.

  “Yeah, assuming there’s anything to lose,” she muttered as she pulled into her driveway and pushed the button on the garage door opener.

  The partitioned door rolled up, section by section, then stopped at the top of its arc.

  Rachel slowly drove into the garage and triggered the control again to drop and secure the door behind her.

  Lost in her musings, she sighed and remained in the car until the garage was safely closed. When all this was over, she certainly hoped Jace would continue to visit, to want to keep seeing her, because if not, she was going to be terribly lonely. The solitude she had enjoyed in the past no longer appealed. Now, all she wanted was to be with him, to talk to him, to see his smile and lose herself in the wonders of his deep blue gaze.

  Getting out of the car, she left her headlights on to illuminate the small garage. What was wrong with the motion sensor on the overhead light? It was supposed to come on automatically, whenever anyone or anything passed.

  Looking up, Rachel squinted. The bulb was gone from the fixture! How could that have happened? And when? She’d left everything locked up tight when she’d gone to work and the only other way in was via the touch pad mounted outside. As far as she knew, she and Jace were the only ones privy to that secret number sequence.

  Concerned and a bit confused, she reached for the knob on the door leading to her kitchen and tried to turn it. It wouldn’t budge. Locked? How could it be locked? That door was never locked. She didn’t have the key for it with her because she saw no need to carry it. After all, the garage door was secure.

  The hair on the back of her neck prickled a primitive warning. Had something on the opposite side of the car just made a scuffing noise? Rachel froze. She fisted her key ring in one hand while she rummaged in her purse for the can of Mace.

  Could she hear breathing? Was it hers? She held her breath and listened to her own pulse thudding in her ears. She was trapped in that tiny garage, unless…

  Diving for the car, she jammed her thumb against the remote control button on the visor, fully expecting the heavy garage door to start to lift.

  Nothing happened. She slammed the car door behind her and locked it with her left hand while continuing to try to work the remote. It had functioned fine a few seconds ago. Why was it not working now?

  The glare from her compact car’s headlights nearly blinded her as she stared out the windshield. Something moved to her right. A shadow shifted. A man-size one. And it was coming closer.

  TWELVE

  Jace set the box with the hot pizza next to him on the seat of his patrol car, backed out of the Hickory Station parking lot and headed straight for the card shop. He was glad he’d told Rachel to wait for him because he didn’t want her going home alone.

  Thinking back over their conversation as he drove, he realized that he had not specified where she was to meet him. Surely she’d understood what he’d meant. She knew better than to go home unescorted, even though they had changed all her locks and reprogrammed her garage door opener.

  As he pulled even with the card store, however, he realized that her car was already gone. His pulse began to pound and his heart leaped. “What was she thinking?”

  That I was going to meet her at the house, he answered only in his mind. How typical. She’d wanted to go home so she had conveniently assumed that that was what they’d agreed upon.

  Whipping the wheel and making a U-turn, he was thankful that there was no cross traffic. It was only a short distance to Rachel’s and she couldn’t have been gone long. He’d probably be able to overtake her in a couple of minutes at the most.

  His hands fisted on the steering wheel. A few minutes was all it would take for someone to end her life.

  Jace tasted bile. His jaw clenched. Every sense was heightened as he pressed hard on the accelerator. The tires of the patrol car squealed around the corner onto Third Street.

  Squinting, he tried to see far enough ahead to tell if Rachel was parked in her driveway.

  He didn’t see her car. He didn’t see any cars. So where was she? And why had she refused to wait for him? Had she been abducted? Was he too late?

  Deep in his mind he could visualize her in trouble. The image wasn’t a logical one. But it was so clear, so intense, he felt as if he were viewing reality.

  “Dear God,” he prayed. “Tell me what to do. Where is she?”

  Rachel was terrified. Trapped. Helpless. The car doors were locked and she was temporarily safe inside, but what if her stalker smashed the windows? What then? If he’d spent any amount of time lurking in the garage he had to have discovered that there were hand tools available. A hammer would shatter her side windows and then all he’d have to do is reach in and grab her.

  She must not allow that to happen. But what other options did she have?

 
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