Close Enough to Kill

by Beverly Barton

  What was she so nervous about anyway? She was inside her car, with the doors locked, driving a familiar route on a safe road. She had a cell phone in her purse, as well as a can of pepper spray.

  She glanced at the lighted digital clock on the control panel. Twelve minutes till seven. She was running late, but being less than fifteen minutes from the college, she should make it there in plenty of time to give her students their test.

  Suddenly, without warning, her car pulled to the right. Simultaneously she heard the rumbling and felt the bumpiness that warned her of a tire going flat. No! This couldn’t be happening. Of all times, why this evening?

  Heaven help me!

  Knowing she had no other choice but to stop, she slowed down and searched the area for a place where she could safely pull off the road. Naturally, she’d had a flat tire in the middle of nowhere, not a house in sight. The houses out here in the country were spaced far apart, often separated by ten to twenty acres and even the new subdivisions had been constructed off the main road. All she could see to the right and left, ahead of her and behind her, were patches of woods and acres of cleared farmland.

  There’s a spot, she told herself when she saw a patch of level ground that had probably once been an old dirt road, but was now partially covered by grass and weeds. Acting quickly, she veered to the right, taking her car off the road and pulling to a standstill. Leaving the motor running and the lights on, she put the gear into park. As she lifted her hands from the steering wheel, she took a deep breath. Stay calm. You’re not in any danger. You can call for help.

  She picked up her handbag from the passenger seat, opened it and retrieved her cell phone; then she hit the instant dial for her home phone. When her mother answered on the third ring, Thomasina released a relieved breath and reached out to turn down the volume on the radio. Just now she remembered that her mother had gone to Huntsville and shouldn’t be at home.

  “Mom? Oh, thank God. Why aren’t you still in Huntsville?”

  “Rose got to feeling poorly, so we came home early. She thinks she’s coming down with that summer cold thing that’s going around.”

  “I’m sorry about Rose, but I’m so glad you’re home.”

  “Thomasina, are you all right? You sound odd.”

  “I’m okay. But I’ve had a flat tire and I need Tommy to come fix it for me.”

  “Oh dear. Your brother’s not home. I think he went out with some of his buddies after work. And you know how that is. He might not be home for another hour or two. But I’ll call over to Amanda’s and get Mike to come find you. Exactly where are you?”

  “I’m about fifteen minutes from the college,” she told her mother. “About a mile past Sunflower Creek.”

  “I’ll get Mike out there to you just as soon as possible, honey. You keep your doors locked, you hear me?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I will.”

  “Do you have that pepper spray with you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Don’t you dare get out of the car for any reason until Mike gets there.”

  “I won’t.” Thank goodness her mother didn’t know anything about the notes and gifts and sketches from her secret admirer. If she knew, she’d be out of her mind with worry.

  “I’ll call you back when Mike heads out, if you want me to.”

  “Just call if for any reason he can’t come right away.”

  “Okay. Do you want to keep talking to me for a while?” her mother asked. “You must be nervous, out there all alone. But don’t you think about anything bad happening. After all, Adams County is one of the safest places on earth, despite that poor Preston girl getting murdered.”

  Oh, great. Leave it to her mother to remind her of the recent murder of a young woman about her age and general physical description. It wasn’t like she wasn’t already scared. But then her mother didn’t know anything about what had been happening to her recently, about the idiotic fantasy she had built around a man who could well not even be the one who’d been seducing her with notes and gifts and—

  “Thomasina, are you still there?”

  “Yes, Mom. I’m going to hang up now. I have to contact the college so someone can let my class know that I’ll be running late. Just call me if Mike can’t leave right away.”

  Not even waiting for her mother’s response, Thomasina closed her cell phone, effectively ending the conversation. She immediately called the college and informed them of her situation; then she slipped the phone back into her purse. She sat there, alone in the shadowy stillness of the backcountry road, distant thunder rumbling and streaks of lightning zigzagging through the sky. She hoped that Mike got here soon. It wasn’t that she didn’t know the basics of changing a flat tire, but the simple fact was that neither she nor a lot of other women had the physical strength to remove the wheel’s lug nuts. And if you couldn’t do that, you couldn’t change the tire.

  Glancing at her gasoline gauge, she smiled when she saw that she had more than half a tank. She’d just keep the motor running, the lights on and the radio playing. She turned up the volume and patted her fingertips against the steering wheel to the beat of the rocking country tune. Then she sang along, the words familiar, and soon the tension eased from her muscles and she relaxed. Leaning her head back and closing her eyes, she concentrated on the music.

  Several minutes later, as she sang along with a classic tearjerker, she saw a set of bright headlights bearing down on her from the opposite direction. Well, it couldn’t be Mike—for two reasons. First of all, this car was coming from the wrong direction. And second, it hadn’t been five minutes since she had phoned her mother.

  Don’t panic. Stay calm.

  The vehicle came up alongside her and slowed to a stop. Her heartbeat accelerated. But when the driver looked toward her, smiled warmly and waved, she gasped with relief when she recognized him.

  The car pulled off the road directly in front of her. The driver parked, opened the door and got out. When he came over to her window and tapped on it, she looked up at him and smiled, then rolled down the window.

  “Hey there,” she said. “You don’t know how glad I am it’s you.”

  “I see you’ve got a flat tire.” He glanced around the area. “Heck of a place for it.”

  “My brother-in-law is on his way here,” Thomasina said. “Would you mind waiting with me until he gets here?”

  “If you want, I can change the tire for you.”

  “Oh, that would be great. How can I ever thank you? I was already running late for my night class before the tire blew.”

  “Hey, I’ve got a better idea. Just leave your car here and let me drive you over to the college,” he suggested. “I’m sure Mike and I can figure out a way to bring your car over to the college later.”

  “That’s a great idea. You’re a lifesaver.” Thomasina turned off the lights, the radio, and the car’s engine, then grabbed her purse before opening the door and getting out. After she locked the car, she handed her rescuer the keys. “You and Mike will need these.”

  He placed his hand in the small of her back and escorted her to his vehicle. Before she got in, he lifted the mini-cooler and small grocery sack from the passenger’s side floorboard and carried them with him around to the other side. As soon as she was seated, he tossed the sack in the back before opening the cooler.

  “Coke or Dr. Pepper?” he asked. “I’ve got both.”

  “Oh, thanks. A Coke’s fine.”

  “It’s pretty warm in here,” he said. “It’ll take a couple of minutes for the air to cool things off.” He inserted his key into the ignition and started the engine.

  “I’m just so glad you came along when you did. I was already as nervous as I could be before I called Mom, and then she reminded me about that Preston girl who was murdered recently. I started imagining all kinds of things.”

  He removed a canned Coke from the cooler, popped the tab and handed the can to her. “I hope you know you’re safe with me.”


  “Of course I know that.” Feeling completely secure, Thomasina accepted the cola, lifted it to her lips and took several sips.

  “Just sit back and relax. I’ll have you at the college in no time flat.” He winked at her.

  She smiled at him, grateful that there were some truly good men left in the world.

  He set the cooler between them, shifted the gears into DRIVE, and pulled out onto the road.

  Bernie had picked up Jim and Kevin at his rental duplex, then dropped Kevin by her parents’ house where her folks had been waiting. She wasn’t sure how her father had persuaded her mother to leave Robyn’s apartment and go home with him. Perhaps it had been the prospect of playing grandmother that convinced her.

  Bernie and Jim had driven over to Verona together to talk to Roy Lee Nichols. The more information the local police chief had shared with them about his conversation with Thomasina Hardy and her sister, the tighter the knots in Bernie’s stomach got. She and Jim had exchanged several oh-God! glances, each of them fearing the worst—that whoever had killed Stephanie Preston and Jacque Reeves was the same person who was now stalking a new victim. If that was the case, then it might be possible to catch this guy, to stop him before he killed again.

  “Did Ms. Hardy and her sister go home when they left here?” Jim had asked.

  “I don’t think so. I believe she went on in to work. She teaches over at the junior college and said she couldn’t miss tonight’s class. That’s why she’s coming in again tomorrow,” Chief Nichols said. “I cautioned Ms. Hardy to make sure she had somebody with her all the time until we’d had a chance to talk to this Dr. Kelley and see if he’s the guy stalking her or not.”

  “Did Ms. Hardy leave a number where she can be reached?” Bernie asked.

  “Yep. A home number, work number, and cell number. I wrote all three down right here.” He tapped the notepad lying atop his desk. “Want me to jot them down for you?”

  Bernie nodded, then waited while he wrote the numbers on a piece of paper and handed it to her. “I want to speak to Ms. Hardy tonight,” Bernie said. “Why don’t each of us take a number right now and one of us should be able to find out exactly where she is.”

  “I’ll call her home number.” Chief Nichols picked up the phone on his desk.

  Bernie memorized the cell number, then handed the piece of paper to Jim. “I’ll call her cell. You try the college.”

  Jim took the paper, nodded and walked to the other side of the chief’s office. Bernie stepped outside into the station’s central hub and dialed the cell number. It rang repeatedly, then went to voice mail.

  “Thomasina, this is Sheriff Bernie Granger. Please give me a call as soon a possible.” Bernie stated her cell number, then repeated it.

  When she returned to his office, Chief Nichols’s gaze met hers. “Any luck?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No, I got her voice mail.”

  “I got an answering machine,” the chief said. “I left a message.”

  They both glanced at Jim, who was talking quietly into his phone, but Bernie couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying. As he clipped his phone to his belt, he looked directly at her. She didn’t like the concerned expression on his face.

  “I spoke to a Ms. Everett at the college. She said that Ms. Hardy phoned about half an hour ago to tell them she’d had a flat tire and would be running late for her Thursday evening class. They’re expecting her at any time.”

  “Was she alone?” Chief Nichols asked.

  “I have no idea,” Jim said. “Ms. Everett didn’t know any details.”

  “Let’s go.” Bernie headed for the door, then paused and spoke to the chief. “To get to the college from here, she’d probably have taken County Road One-fifty-seven, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s the way I’d go. It takes you across Sunflower Creek and then you turn left onto Forty-four. You can get from here to the college in less than thirty minutes if you take that route.”

  Jim followed her outside and straight to her Jeep. Once inside and securely belted, they paused momentarily and looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them, before Bernie revved the engine.

  “Call Ron and have him track down Brandon Kelley,” Bernie said.

  Jim nodded, then made the call while Bernie zipped through downtown Verona, which consisted of a couple of blocks that crisscrossed each other. Since they rolled up the streets in Verona around seven, there wasn’t any traffic. When she stopped at the railroad tracks that intersected with the main road, she looked both ways before preceding. In her peripheral vision she saw Jim punching in a number on his cell phone, then heard him call Ron’s name before filling the deputy in on what was going on.

  “We’re heading toward the college now. Give us a call as soon as you track down Dr. Kelley. If you find him.” Jim clipped the phone to his belt.

  “I don’t like this.” After crossing the railroad tracks, Bernie took a right onto County Road 157. “We’re pretty sure that Stephanie Preston had car trouble the night she was abducted and now Thomasina Hardy has a flat tire. If she’s alone…”

  Jim grunted.

  “If we have a serial killer on our hands—”

  “If?” Jim growled the word. “You keep saying if.”

  “I’m saying if because we’re not sure of anything. Yes, there are similarities between the gifts Stephanie received and the things Thomasina said this guy sent her, but maybe it’s just some terrible coincidence.”

  “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”

  Thoughts of what that psychopath had done to Stephanie Preston raced through Bernie’s mind. What if he already had Thomasina Hardy? What if they were too late to save her? Bernie’s stomach churned and salty bile burned her esophagus. For half a minute, she thought she might actually be sick.

  “Are you okay?” Jim asked.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Why did you ask?”

  “You look kind of funny, like you might throw up.”

  “I said I’m okay.” She practically bit his head off. “Sorry. I’m taking my frustration out on you. It’s just the thought that we are probably dealing with a serial killer scares the crap out of me. And just between the two of us, I’m not sure I’m equipped to handle a situation like this.”

  “Take a couple of deep breaths,” he told her. “Then listen to what I’m going to tell you.”

  As she sped along County Road 157, Bernie hazarded a quick glance at Jim. He gave her a stern look. She took the deep breaths.

  “No law enforcement officer is ever ready for something like this,” Jim said. “Even if he—or she—has experience with this type of killer. There’s no shame in admitting that you’re worried, that you’re concerned, even that you’re scared.”

  Jim’s voice soothed her. Odd, she thought. A minute ago, she’d felt as if she were going to jump out of her own skin. Now, her heartbeat had slowed almost to normal and the queasiness she’d experienced subsided. All because of Jim’s calm, even voice and his no-nonsense words.

  “You don’t know how difficult it is for me. Not only am I the first female sheriff in Adams County, I’m also the youngest. And—ta-da, drum roll, please—I’m R.B. Granger’s daughter. There’s no way I can live up to my dad’s reputation.”

  That’s it, Bernie, admit all your insecurities to your chief deputy. That’s the way to earn his respect.

  “When you ran for sheriff, how much of that decision was because it’s what you wanted and how much was because it was what your dad wanted?”

  Jim had hit the nail on the head. He had voiced the question she had never dared ask herself. Did everyone see through her so easily or did most people not suspect the truth?

  “Truthfully, I don’t know.”

  “What about now? You’ve been the sheriff for several years. Do you like your job? Are you glad you’re the sheriff?”

  “Yes, I like my job. At least most of the time. And yes, I’m glad I’m the sheriff. Just not tonigh
t. Not right now.” She kept the speed at fifty-five, even when the speed limit lowered to forty-five as they passed over Sunflower Creek. “I’m afraid my insecurities are showing. I certainly never thought I’d have to deal with a serial killer. Not here in Adams County.”

  When Jim didn’t respond, she instinctively cut her eyes to catch a quick glimpse of his face. He was looking straight ahead, not at her. All of a sudden, she felt vulnerable and even stupid. She had opened up to her chief deputy in a way that surprised her. Why was it that she’d gotten diarrhea of the mouth tonight and with, of all people, Jim Norton?

  The silence between them dragged on for several minutes, but those three or four minutes seemed more like hours to Bernie.

  “TMI?” she asked.

  “Huh?”

  “Too much information?”

  “No, that’s not it. I just got to thinking that maybe I was being too nosey, that your relationship with your father is really none of my business.”

  “Oh.”

  Sharing sensitive personal information would change their relationship from strictly professional to more intimate. Bernie cringed. Wrong word. Intimacy implied a strong emotional attachment, romance, even sex. The best she could expect to share with Jim was friendship.

  “Hey, look up ahead.” Jim motioned to the right-hand side of the road. “There’s a parked car over there. Maybe it’s Thomasina Hardy’s car.”

  Bernie pulled off the road directly behind the Grand Am. She and Jim cautiously exited her Jeep and took a look at the abandoned car.

  “Flat tire.” Jim pointed to the tire.

  “You look things over while I go back and call this in to make sure it’s Thomasina’s car.”

  Jim nodded in agreement.

  By the time she’d called in and had verified the tag number, Jim had finished his inspection and they met at the hood of her Jeep.

  “It’s Thomasina Hardy’s car,” Bernie said.

  “No sign of foul play. The car’s locked.”

  “I don’t like the feeling this gives me.”