A Penny for Your Thoughts

by Bess McBride

  Penny froze.

  “What?” she whispered. Surely she had misheard. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me right, Penny. I’m gonna kill you, and you won’t even know when. You won’t even know why. Wait for me. I’m coming.”

  Penny snapped her phone shut and dropped it onto the sand as if it were on fire. She jumped out of her seat and swung around to search the beach, keeping her back to the sea. Who would call her and say such a thing? She scanned the faces on the beach--the couples who strolled arm in arm, too busy to carry a phone, the children who chased the waves, too little to carry a phone. She wrapped her arms tightly around her body, suddenly cold. No one knew her here. She’d hardly met anyone in the two months she’d been in Gulf Shores.

  She stared down at the offending phone half buried in the sand. Caller ID. She bent and picked up the phone with the tips of her fingers, gingerly opening the face. A push of a button revealed an area code from her home state of Michigan. She sank to her knees. Who would call her from Michigan with such horrible words? None of her clients were violent or inclined toward making threats. She’d been lucky that way.

  She eyed the number and took a deep breath. With a knot in her stomach, she pushed the button to call. Her hand shook slightly as she held the phone to her ear. It rang.

  A Penny for Your Thoughts

  By

  Bess McBride

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  A Penny for Your Thoughts

  COPYRIGHT 2012 by Bess McBride

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact information: bessmcbride@gmail.com

  Cover Art by Tamra Westberry

  Published in the United States of America

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  What They’re Saying about A Penny for Your Thoughts

  Other Books by Bess McBride

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  What They’re Saying about A Penny for Your Thoughts

  "A Penny For Your Thoughts is the best romantic suspense I have read of late." ~Long and Short Reviews

  "Ms. McBride did a wonderful job creating a story full of suspense and mystery and she added to the mixture healthy servings of love and hope. Ms. McBride outdid herself yet again!!!" ~Night Owl Romance

  "This story is engrossing, gripping, suspenseful undeniably one of the best romantic suspense stories ever written. Ms. McBride knits together a plotline fraught with twists and turns that leaves the reader guessing as to the path to be taken next." ~You Gotta Read Reviews

  Other Books by Bess McBride

  Across the Winds of Time

  Jenny Cussler’s Last Stand

  A Train Through Time

  Dedication

  To Cinnamon, Mike, Lily and Les.

  May we all meet again for Mardi Gras soon with Baby Mia!

  And to the wonderful Southerners on the Gulf Coast of Alabama whose generosity and hospitality is unmatched.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for purchasing A Penny for Your Thoughts. A Penny for Your Thoughts is my first romantic suspense, and inspired by the winters I spent on the Gulf Coast of Alabama, basking on the beaches, watching the birds on the shore, and hitting all the Mardi Gras parades for beads and moon pies.

  The South is atmospheric.There is no other way to describe it. From majestic oak trees crowning a small road to quaint fishing villages nestled into quiet bays, from fierce coastal storms to herons stalking fisherman, from the brilliant sights and sounds of Mardi Gras to the tranquil search for seashells, it is like no other place.

  And it wants to be written about…a lot.That's why there are so many books written in the South. That and people staying indoors under air conditioning with time to write!

  I'm away from the South now but I'll be back someday. Who can stay away?

  I hope you enjoy Penny's story as much as I did trying to figure out how to throw you off. No, not true. I didn't know who the stalker was myself until they presented themselves somewhere in the book.

  I recently decided to embark on a new adventure in publishing, and A Penny for Your Thoughts is being re-released. Same story, different cover. And isn't it a beauty?

  Thank you for your support over the years, friends and readers. Because of your favorable comments, I continue to strive to write the best stories I can. More suspense novels are on the way! I’m dreaming of them all the time.

  You know I always enjoy hearing from you, so please feel free to contact me at bessmcbride@gmail.com, through my web site at http://www.bessmcbride.com, or my blog Will Travel for Romance

  Thanks for reading!

  Bess

  Prologue

  “I’m going to kill myself, Penny.”

  “What!” Penny cried out. She forced her voice into a calm, measured tone. “What happened in the last hour, Jerry? You seemed fine when you left the office. In fact...” her voice started to shake as did her hand pressing the phone to her ear, “I called because y-you left your keys here. You know...the ones that are always hooked to your belt. Let me drop them off at your place.”

  “No! Don’t come here. Don’t. It’ll be too late.”

  Penny wanted to scream, but instead she gripped the phone tighter and tried to save his life with her voice.

  “Please don’t do this, Jerry. You are too valuable to this world...to me. I need you.”

  The man on the other end began to sob.

  “Don’t say that, Penny! Don’t make this harder than it already is. You don’t need me.”

  Penny fought to keep her throat from closing, to keep the air pumping into her lungs so she could speak in a calm voice.

  “I need you to be alive, Jerry. I cannot bear the thought of a world without you in it. Please don’t do this. Let me come to you. Better yet, let me send someone to you while we stay on the phone...together.”

  Penny jumped up and tried to drag the outdated, clunky office phone toward her closed door. The tangled cord wouldn’t stretch, and no matter how she willed her fingers to lengthen, she just couldn’t reach the door. She grabbed a heavy book from the top of her desk and threw it against the door.

  “Don’t come here, Penny. You’ll just try to talk me out of it. I-I’m just tired of living...with all this pain. I’m tired of it.” Jerry’s voice resounded with stress, and th
at was a good sign. It meant he was undecided...had not yet reached an irreversible decision. She heard the television in the background.

  “Jerry! Jerry! Do you have a gun?”

  Penny grabbed another book and heaved it against the door with all her might. Rising anxiety robbed her of air, and she gasped for air as if she were running a marathon.

  “Yes.”

  “But Jerry, you hate guns. How could you use a gun? Where did you get it?”

  “Yeah, I do. I just got it. That’s all.”

  “Jerry, please listen to me! The world won’t always seem as dark as it does today. One day you’ll wake up--maybe tomorrow--and the sun will shine. You don’t want to miss that, do you?”

  Penny heard a timid knock at the door, and she cursed herself for closing the door when Jerry called. She reached for it once again, but the tips of her fingers fell a foot short. She dared not pull the phone away from her ear...not for one second. She grabbed another book and threw it.

  Jerry’s voice took on a calm, resigned tone that frightened her more than his sobs ever did. She was losing him... The television continued its muted noise in the background.

  “The sun is never going to shine for me, Penny. I know you tried, but nothing helps.” He muttered something she couldn’t quite make out, and then spoke clearly into the phone. “Don’t come here.”

  The door opened an inch, and David thrust his dark, bespectacled head inside with raised brows. Penny waved him toward her with an urgency that prompted the short, thin man to burst in.

  “Jerry, please let me come to you. Can you wait for me?”

  Penny grabbed a notepad off her desk and scrawled the words “Jerry Coleman...gun...home...wants kill self. Call 911.” She pushed the paper toward her colleague who read it, turned and flew out the door.

  “No! I said no!” His shout startled her. He’d never raised his gentle voice to her...never. “I mean...don’t come, Penny. I don’t want anyone here.”

  Penny’s body stiffened. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead as she thought she heard a click.

  “Jerry?” Anxiety drove her voice to a high pitch.

  “Goodbye, Penny.”

  “Jerry?”

  Penny jumped as she heard a dull thud followed by a shrill scream. She thought it was her for a second, but realized the shriek emanated from the other end of the phone.

  “Jerry? Jerry? Are you there?”

  Penny jumped and pulled the phone from her ear as she heard a thunderous noise through the phone. She screamed.

  “Jerry! Jerry! Jerry, are you there?”

  Her boss rushed up to the half-open door.

  “What’s going on in here?”

  Penny yelled into the phone over and over, like a broken record.

  “Jerry! Jerry!” There was no sound over the phone.

  She held the phone out to her boss and slumped down into her chair. David returned out of breath.

  “They’re on their way.”

  Penny’s boss, Tim, took the phone from her shaking hand and listened in for a moment before he spoke.

  “Jerry? Jerry? This is Tim from the counseling center. Can you hear me?”

  Penny looked at David and shook her head. Tears flowed down her face.

  “It’s too late. I think he shot himself.”

  “You’re kidding!” David muttered. “I’d better call the police again.” He fled back out of the office.

  Tim pulled the phone away from his ear and covered the mouthpiece.

  “I’m not sure. I hear some noise in the background. Something metal. But he’s not answering the phone. Here, listen.”

  Penny reached for the phone with a shaking hand, though what she really needed to do was run for the bathroom to contend with the wave of nausea that had her in its grip. She wiped the cold sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and pressed the phone hard against her ear.

  “Jerry?” she called in a hoarse voice, knowing he either lay there dying or was dead. The gunshot report had been unmistakable. She strained to listen. No one moved in the room. Even the television was silenced. Would she hear him bleeding to death? Did exsanguination make a noise? Penny clamped a hand over her mouth to hold back the vomit.

  She looked over at the rounded form of Tim who slumped in one of her easy chairs with his head buried in his hands, but she jerked her head toward the phone when she heard a commotion over the line--loud banging as if on a door and then shouting. “Police.”

  She listened intently to the sound of a crash, hoping against hope that the police had broken in, and that Jerry would soon pick up the phone and start cursing her for her betrayal. She would welcome his anger at the moment...the anger of living. She heard multiple voices in the background but couldn’t distinguish Jerry’s voice from the rest.

  “Hello. Who is this?”

  Penny jumped at the loud voice on the phone.

  “I’m Penny Brown. Is Jerry all right?”

  “Are you the one who called 911?”

  “My office did. I was on the phone with Jerry. Is he...did he...” Penny choked on the words.

  “Yes, Miss Brown. He appears to be dead. I’m sorry.”

  A sob escaped Penny’s lips and hot tears flowed unchecked down her face. She could barely make out Tim’s form as he jumped up to stand beside her, bending near her ear to listen in.

  “Miss Brown. We’re going to have to send an officer over to you to take a statement. We’ll have someone there in an hour. Will you be there?”

  “Yes,” she sobbed as she thrust the phone into Tim’s unsuspecting hands. She lunged from her chair, ran out the door and around the corner to the women’s restroom across the hall. Penny flung open the door and dashed for the sink. The cold water she threw on her face failed to help. It didn’t lessen her nausea, it didn’t make her feel better, and it didn’t bring Jerry back.

  Uncaring of her surroundings, Penny slid down the wall to the chilly tile floor below the sink. She pulled up her legs, wrapped her arms around them and dropped her head on her knees, keening and gasping for air as she rocked back and forth. Jerry was dead, and it was her fault. She had failed him.

  ****

  The killer slipped the gun into Jerry’s limp right hand and closed his fingers around it. He stepped back and studied the scene for a minute while he pulled off his gloves and shoved them in his jacket pocket. Jerry’s bloodied head rested against the back of the couch with a tilt to the left. He bent over to make a check of the Jerry’s pockets, but found nothing except some pocket change, and his frustration mounted. He shouldn’t have killed him so quickly. He cursed himself for not controlling his anger. If he’d just stayed cool, he would have had what he wanted.

  The cell phone lay open on the floor where Jerry had dropped it. He could still hear the therapist’s voice over the phone. The police were probably on the way. He needed to get out of there.

  He pivoted away from the body and crossed the room to reach a small black metal filing cabinet set in a far corner of the room next to a stack of old magazines and newspapers. Jerry should get rid of this crap, he thought for the hundredth time as he yanked open the top drawer of the flimsy file drawer. Bending down to peer into the dark recesses of the back, he rummaged around until his fingers closed over a small gray metal cash box. He pulled it out, and opened it. The silly fool never locked anything. He’d seen this box before. Jerry stored some of his favorite things in here. He knew he’d find a photograph...of two young men on a sandy beach, probably some cash and the thing he wanted. He pushed aside the photographs and hauled out the unruly wad of cash. It was too bad it had finally come to this, he thought ruefully as he threw a glance over his shoulder at the lifeless figure on the couch.

  He searched the box again, but it held nothing else. With rising frustration, he ransacked the cabinet drawer. Nothing! He slammed the door shut in a rage, belatedly remembering that the phone still lay open on the floor...and Jerry was supposed to be dead.

  As
the killer passed Jerry’s body, he took a final look at him...knowing he should feel bad. But he couldn’t muster any sympathy. Jerry got what he deserved. He cursed himself for not pressing Jerry harder. Maybe he should have hauled that therapist here by her hair and forced the fool to give up the location.

  He shook his head. Ole Jerry had certainly done everything he could to protect his precious therapist, hadn’t he? When he saw the caller ID on the phone, he thought he had the perfect motivation for Jerry. The words, “I’m going to kill her first” should have gotten Jerry to talk. But he was stubborn. Right up to the end. Right up until he tried to fight back.

  He heard her voice on the phone again.

  “Jerry? Jerry? Are you there?”

  He fought his instinct to kick the phone across the room. That wouldn’t go over well when the police arrived. He cracked open the door and peered out. No one in the hallway. The middle of a work day. He slid out wondering what he was going to do about her. Did she have what Jerry refused to give up?

  Maybe it was time to pay her a call.

  Chapter One

  Penny stretched out her legs, hoping the miniscule beach chair with the shortest legs in the world, which barely kept her backside off the ground, wouldn’t give in to its apparent inclination to topple over and dump her onto the sand. She glanced at her watch and sighed. Four fifteen. The sun would set in thirty minutes. While sunsets on the Gulf Coast usually provided a panoramic blaze of glory on the horizon, they also heralded the end of the day and the beginning of a long lonely night in front of the television.

  She scanned the beach to her right. A few couples strolled hand in hand along the water’s edge. Several other couples stood or sat on the sand nearby, snuggled into each other’s arms, waiting for the moment when the sun would flash brightly like a neon orange ball before it sank beneath the waters on the horizon.

  She rolled her eyes before turning back to stare at the waves. The beach seemed to be made for couples these days. How wonderful for them, I’m sure. Penny sniffed and crossed her arms. The normally warm Gulf breeze had suddenly grown cold as the sun dropped lower in the sky.