Pulse Points

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  The fact that she wasn’t alone, that Detective Spiller was lurking somewhere in the darkness keeping watch on her, should have offered her a measure of reassurance.

  “Rest easy, Mrs. Ellis. Nothing will happen to you on my watch,” he’d told her when he escorted her to the door.

  Somehow she had dredged up a smile. “I’m counting on that.”

  “If you need anything or if anything out of the ordinary happens, call me on my cell.” He pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to her.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, not at all certain that was the truth.

  He stepped back, then paused. “Don’t let Gallain upset you. He’s not always that abrasive.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “No,” he admitted a bit sheepishly.

  She managed another smile. “Don’t worry. I can handle him. He can’t make me see what I didn’t see or say what I don’t know.”

  Spiller seemed suddenly uncomfortable as if he’d spoken out of turn. “Protecting you is our primary goal.”

  Again she was struck by his kindness. As she closed and bolted her door, she wished he’d been in charge of the investigation instead of Gallain. She had never been questioned by the police. Now that she had, it wouldn’t go down as one of her most treasured memories.

  Maybe that was why Spiller’s presence couldn’t alleviate her anxiety even though she was home, out from under the prying eyes of his cohort. Her stomach continued to heave as reality struck her like a blow. She had witnessed the brutal taking of another person’s life—her friend and partner. Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked several times.

  She hoped Shirley hadn’t suffered, that she hadn’t known what hit her. Kasey pulled the afghan under her chin and once again tried to focus her thoughts elsewhere. It didn’t work. Her mind rebelled.

  Had the killer seen her?

  No. He couldn’t have. He had never known she was there.

  But what if he had?

  That question kept haunting her. What if she was wrong and he was just biding his time until he came after her, thinking she could identify him? That thought almost brought Kasey’s heart to a standstill.

  Apparently Gallain had thought so or he wouldn’t have put her under protective watch. But for now, she was safe in her home. Her gaze touched on things that surrounded her—familiar things such as pictures, plants, books and even her chintz-covered furniture. The fact that the latter needed replacing, and she’d grieved over the fact she hadn’t the means to do that, no longer seemed important.

  Tomorrow, however, she would have to leave this security and deal with Shirley’s untimely death, a death that had a profound and life-altering effect on her.

  Kasey reached for the remote control and switched on the television, hoping to catch the late news. No doubt the murder would make headlines on the local stations, as well as in the papers, for days to come. In addition, the gossip mill would be churning.

  Although Rushmore had a population of over a hundred thousand, it still had many qualities of a small East Texas town. People made it their business to know their neighbors’ business.

  Kasey concentrated on the television. News of the bone-chilling murder was indeed being played out in vivid detail. Unable to view the crime scene again, she shifted her gaze and listened, mainly to see if anyone else had come forward as a witness. No such luck.

  Kasey wasn’t surprised. She had known all along she had been the only person in the garage other than Shirley and the killer. Who was he? Who had despised Shirley so much that he wanted her dead? Was her death perhaps business related? Or personal?

  A long time ago Shirley might have confided in her and vice versa, but their old friendship had been damaged by recent events. Since her husband Mark’s death two years ago, Kasey had been working in an advertising agency in Dallas. While it had been an okay job, it in no way met her financial obligations or fueled her dream of bettering herself, perhaps one day owning her own agency.

  So when Shirley had contacted her and offered her a partnership in her agency in Rushmore where Kasey had been born and reared, she had been ecstatic, certain life was about to turn around and take on a new dimension.

  “You can’t imagine what this call means to me,” Kasey had said following Shirley’s offer. “Although I’m not anywhere near worthy of this opportunity,” she added. “I’ve only been back in the workplace for two years, and I’m awfully rusty in a lot of areas.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second,” Shirley responded. “Besides—”

  Kasey cut her off, anxious to square things from the get-go. “More than that, I don’t have any money to buy into the business.” She paused, trying to figure out how to tell Shirley the truth and keep her pride intact.

  She had thought Mark had been a good provider, only to learn upon his death that they were on the brink of financial disaster. For two years she had struggled with her feelings of betrayal and the financial albatross around her neck. To date, she hadn’t won either battle.

  “We can work something out,” Shirley said into the growing silence. “Bottom line, I need help. The agency’s grown too much for me to handle alone. I need someone whom I can trust and who will do a good job.” She paused with a chuckle. “Kasey Ellis immediately came to mind.”

  “While those words are so good for my ego, I’m still not sure I’m the right person. After all—”

  This time it was Shirley who interrupted. “After all nothing. Remember we go back a long way, and I know what you’re capable of doing.”

  In retrospect, she knew Shirley was right. She had introduced Kasey to the world of advertising, having given her her first job during high school. Kasey had worked summers for her. Although a decade plus separated them in age, they had become friends. While they had lost touch over the intervening years, Kasey had not forgotten Shirley or how much she had taught her about the business.

  Shirley had gone on to insist she come to Rushmore, see the agency, then they would talk. Kasey had done just that, impressed far beyond her wildest imagination at Shirley’s accomplishments. Maybe the fact that she’d devoted herself to her career, choosing never to marry and have a family, had been the contributing factor to her success in the business world.

  “Having seen what I’m all about, are you interested?” Shirley had asked several days later over coffee in the small kitchen in the rear of the agency.

  Kasey hadn’t answered immediately, studying Shirley from under long thick lashes. The years had been kind to her friend. Though fifty-two, she could pass for forty-two. Her dark, grayless hair was short and stylish. Her complexion was flawless, and her hazel eyes were deep and lovely. The designer suit she wore made the most of her tall buxom figure. Kasey couldn’t imagine how she’d managed to remain single.

  “So, what’s the verdict?”

  Shirley’s question jarred Kasey back to the moment. “Actually, I’m in awe and slightly overwhelmed.”

  Not only was the agency housed in a plush high-rise office complex, it had become the largest and most successful firm in the city with a more than adequate staff. The idea that she would ever be a part of something so successful was more than Kasey could take in.

  As if Shirley sensed Kasey’s inner struggle, she chuckled, then said, “Don’t make this more complicated than it is. Just take the opportunity at face value and run with it.”

  That was exactly what she’d done. That day they had worked out terms of a contract and Kasey had made the move. Now, six months later, she was sowing what she had so hastily reaped. She should have known when something appeared to be too good to be true, it usually was.

  Like she’d told Gallain, she had been assured by Shirley that the agency was solvent and thriving. Shortly after her arrival in Rushmore, the sure thing Shirley had dangled like a carrot hadn’t borne out.

  Hence, Kasey had felt betrayed once again by someone she trusted. She had been in the process of weighing her options, but now, wi
th Shirley’s sudden demise, her options were clear. She had no choice but to close the floundering agency and seek work elsewhere.

  Kasey’s emotions suddenly surged and that queasy feeling returned to her stomach. What had seemed so wonderful and challenging had turned into a hideous nightmare that showed no signs of ending.

  Beside her the phone rang; she flinched. When she checked the caller ID and saw who it was, her bleak situation suddenly brightened. It was her son Brock calling from Waco where he was a freshman at Baylor University.

  “Hey, darling, I’m so glad you called,” she said to her son, her voice breaking.

  “Mom, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”

  She should’ve been more careful. Since his dad’s death, she had forgotten how Brock had matured far beyond his eighteen years and how intuitive he had become where she was concerned.

  “No, but it hasn’t been one of my better days.” Although she loathed the thought of telling her son what had happened, she had no choice. She didn’t want him to hear the gory details of Shirley’s death and her innocent involvement from some other source.

  “What happened?” he demanded in such a manly, take-charge tone that tears gathered in her eyes.

  These last few months, he had been the force that had kept her from sinking into a dark hole of despair.

  “Shirley was murdered tonight,” she finally said.

  “Holy shit!”

  She probably should’ve protested his choice of words, but she didn’t, especially when she agreed with his assessment of the situation. “There’s more, Brock. I saw it happen.”

  “Holy shit,” he muttered again. “I’m on my way home, Mom.”

  Suddenly she panicked, the blood in her veins turning to ice. “Don’t you dare.”

  “Why not?”

  He sounded shocked and offended and well he should. She couldn’t ever remember a time when she’d discouraged him from coming home. Never was she more content and happier than when he was asleep in his bed under her roof. Now, more than ever, nothing would right her upside down world like the sight of her son and the chance to give him a big hug.

  Under the present circumstances, however, she couldn’t allow herself that luxury.

  “I’m afraid, that’s why,” she admitted without hesitation. “I don’t want you involved in any of this.”

  “Ah, that’s not going to happen.”

  “I know that, son. Still, I think it best you stay away from me for a while.” She paused. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

  She paused as hot tears scalded her face, having just voiced her worst fear.

  Three

  “I don’t approve.”

  Tanner Hart gave his attorney, friend and political advisor an off-center smile that bordered on sarcasm. “Thanks for your support.”

  “What did you expect?” Jack Milstead countered, his round, fair-skinned features etched in a frown that drew attention to his shiny pink cheekbones.

  Tanner stretched his lean, taut body as far back in the small chair as it would allow, searching for a more comfortable position. In between working all hours of the night, he’d vented his frustrations on his gym equipment at home; he suspected he’d overdone it.

  He and Jack had decided to meet in a coffee shop instead of one of their offices for their weekly get-together. Since he hadn’t slept much, he needed some strong stuff to jump-start his day.

  This place was one of his favorite haunts, a small, privately owned and operated coffee shop. The smell of flavored coffees and fresh baked breads and pastries always made his mouth water. Thank goodness it wasn’t all that frantic this morning. They had found a table in the back, and for the moment, the area belonged to them.

  “No way can I give such a foolhardy stunt my blessings,” Jack added, a pulse leaping in his jaw. “Not at this stage of the game, anyway.”

  “Are you about to lecture me, Jack?”

  “If that’s what it takes.”

  Tanner curbed a sigh. How could he tell his friend to give it a rest, that he knew what he was doing? But crossing Jack was no easy feat, not when he thought he knew best. And most of the time he did, Tanner conceded. Hell, if it hadn’t been for Milstead, he wouldn’t even be in the race for the Texas Senate.

  Jack lived for politics, though he’d never had the desire to run for office himself. “I work best behind the scenes,” he’d told Tanner, “grooming young men like you to run this great state.”

  In his late sixties, Milstead was a self-made man who had gotten into the nursing home business at the right time and was now a millionaire several times over.

  Tanner had met him and his wife, Sissy, and son, Ralph, before he’d married Norma. They had been old and dear friends of hers. He and Jack had hit it off immediately and in turn had become friends. Tanner guessed he admired and respected him more than anyone else he knew. Holding on to his approval was terribly important to him.

  “Cat got your tongue, boy?” Jack demanded, leaning forward, his eyebrows drawn together in a fierce frown.

  Tanner fingered his tie, feeling the humidity as though he were outside. Or perhaps it was his mentor’s intense scrutiny that made him uncomfortable. “Okay, maybe it wasn’t the smartest move I’ve ever made, and probably not great timing, but I felt it was a necessary evil.”

  “For a man without any political experience, but who’s entering the final leg of the race, you just don’t go firing your ad agency.”

  “Why not?” Tanner asked, his deep voice even and cool.

  “Because it could spell political suicide, that’s why.”

  “I disagree,” Tanner said with vigor, though his confidence did erode somewhat under Jack’s piercing gaze. Still, he defended his actions. “The agency wasn’t doing Jack-shit.” He broke off with another grin. “No pun intended, of course.”

  Jack flapped his hand, then ran it though his thick graying hair and on down to his mustache. “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Anyhow,” Tanner continued, his tone once again abrupt and all business, “it’ll work out. Besides, it’s a done deal. The Randolph Agency in Dallas is history.”

  Jack’s scowl didn’t lessen. “Well, done deals can be undone. In the political world that’s an everyday occurrence.”

  “But not in my world.” Tanner’s tone was rigid. “I make a decision, I stick to it. Just like I’ve stuck to the issues that I feel passionate about.”

  That last pointed remark brought a flush to Jack’s already heated features, and he cursed. To date, issues had been the only bone of contention between the two men. Jack had wanted to have a large say in Tanner’s platform. And Tanner had indulged him up to a point. But then, he’d had to step in and take charge, realizing that it took fire in one’s belly to win big. In order to start that fire and get it roaring, Tanner had to stick to his own convictions.

  “All right, I’ll keep my mouth shut and hope you know what you’re doing. What does Irene say about it?”

  Irene Sullivan was his campaign manager who had hired the agency in the first place.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t told her.”

  “My guess is she’ll shit a brick.”

  “Probably. Maybe then she’ll feel better.”

  Jack grunted. “Funny. Actually, she’s the one you needed to dump. She’s too much in-your-face, too ballsy to suit me. I don’t know how the two of you keep from butting heads on a daily basis.”

  “We have our moments,” Tanner said, “that’s for sure. But overall, she does a good job. She has a mind like a steel trap, and you know how well-traveled she is in the political arena. That adds to her value.”

  “How ’bout the fact that she’s a looker? Are you telling me that doesn’t fit into the equation?”

  “I’m not screwing her, Jack, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “I bet it’s not from lack of trying on her part.”

  “How did we get off on this topic of conversation anyway?” Tanner lost
his patience. “I can and will handle Irene, keep the bit in her mouth, if need be. So don’t worry.”

  “As long as she does the job,” Jack mumbled, “I guess that’s all that matters.”

  Tanner sipped on his coffee. “Like it or not, her strategy, along with yours and lots of others, has turned me into a viable candidate.”

  “Not a damned easy task, either,” Jack muttered with a fleeting grin.

  Tanner tightened the harsh planes of his face. “No one knows that better than me. I’ll never forget that day you approached me and asked if I was interested in politics. I thought you’d lost your mind.”

  “That fateful day wasn’t all that long ago, my friend,” Jack mused, taking a drink of his coffee.

  “It seems like forever. What with trying to jockey my business and my leap into politics, I often wonder what hit me. At times, it’s almost driven me over the edge.”

  “Firing the Randolph Agency was apparently one of those times.” As if sensing Tanner was about to fire back, Jack raised his hand in a token of peace. “Sorry, didn’t mean to resurrect that dead horse.”

  “Good, because you’re right, it’s dead. What you don’t know is that I’ve had to continually kick butt behind the scenes on practically everything they’ve done—media ads, slogans, posters, letters. You name it. But the real pisser has been the name recognition factor, key to my beating an incumbent. You’ve drilled that into me from day one. Somehow I never got that point across to that agency.”

  “In defense of them, you’re a perfectionist and a hands-on kind of guy. That makes you hard to work for and with. I don’t see that changing with another agency.”

  Tanner shrugged before a grin tugged his lips downward. “True, but I’d still like for someone else to do the grunt work, especially with this new project I’m working on.”

  Since he was a longshot for the senate seat in District 2, it wouldn’t be wise to let his lucrative developing company suffer. It was his success in the business world that had been the springboard for this venture into politics, an asset that had escaped him until Jack had approached him.