“What are you doing out of bed?” J.D. barked at her.
Heather hesitated, then stepped fully into the room. “There’s somebody outside. In the backyard. I saw him from my window.”
Jackie’s gaze flew across the room to the windows along the wall. Light spilled across patches of glittery snow, except one area which was blocked by the shadow of someone standing outside the window.
“Into the hall,” J.D. yelled. He lifted Jackie against his chest and plunged for the door and Heather’s retreating shape.
“Where’s Todd?” he demanded.
“Asleep.” Heather’s lips quivered.
“Go to your room,” he commanded, setting Jackie on her feet. “And stay away from the windows.” He started toward the kitchen, fury radiating from every pore on his body.
“Daddy, don’t go out there!”
Jackie pulled Heather’s quaking body against her own. “She’s right, J.D. What if he breaks in through a window while you’re outside?”
J.D. hesitated. Frustration clouded his face.
“I thought the police were watching the house.” How had Larry gotten this close? “Maybe it isn’t Larry,” she added quickly. “Maybe we saw the policeman prowling around.”
J.D. shook his head, but fury faded, replaced by thoughtful contemplation. “Upstairs. We’re too vulnerable down here.”
Jackie couldn’t argue with that, but the telephone suddenly rang, making all of them jump. “Wait here,” J.D. ordered.
“Hello,” he growled. “Yeah. We’re fine, but there’s someone—” He paused to listen. “Okay.”
Jackie shivered. Heather clung to her waist. She stroked the girl’s silky hair in mindless comfort, hating the idea that she’d brought fear into the child’s life. The house was so quiet she could hear the grandfather clock ticking in the living room.
“Fine. Sing out or we won’t open the door. Right.” J.D. cradled the phone. “That was an Officer Lannigan. He’s outside. Wait here while I let him in.”
“J.D., wait! Are you sure?” Jackie tried to keep her voice calm, conscious of Heather clinging to her. “You’ve never heard Larry’s voice.”
J.D. stopped in his tracks. “Damn.” He hesitated a second. “But I’ve seen the bastard’s face. I won’t let him in until I’m sure. Wait here.”
Jackie didn’t wait. “Is Aunt Dottie asleep?” she asked Heather.
“Uh-huh. I went to her room first.”
“Do you think you can go upstairs and wake her? Tell her what’s going on?”
“Is it a burglar?” Heather asked in a tiny shaken voice.
“Maybe. Hurry, sweetheart.” As Heather scooted up the stairs and J.D. headed for the front door, Jackie hurried toward the kitchen. She found the sharp knives in a rack on the counter and withdrew the largest one as J.D. called out through the closed front door.
“Step back, into the light where I can see your face.” She heard him order.
There was a pause, then J.D. opened the front door. A large figure stepped through. Jackie moved to stand in front of the steps, the knife at her side, its wicked blade glinting in the hall light.
“Mr. Frost? I’m Officer Lannigan.” Dark brown eyes in a face as dark as the night itself, swept the hall, pinning her where she stood. “Ms. Neeley?”
Jackie trembled with relief. J.D. turned around and saw her for the first time. “What the hell? What did you think you were going to do with that knife?” he demanded, striding forward and taking it from her limp fingers.
“Whatever I had to,” she responded, raising her chin a notch.
“You’re both all right?” the officer asked.
“Yes,” J.D. answered tersely. “What about Zalewoski?”
“The prowler got away, I’m afraid, sir. I gave chase, but he had a vehicle on the next street over. I got the tag number. He won’t get far.”
“Then it was Larry?” Jackie asked.
“I couldn’t say, ma’am. I never got a good look at the guy.”
“J.D.?” Aunt Dottie stood at the head of the staircase, clutching a loose housecoat around her bony frame. Heather peered at them from beside her. “What’s going on down there?”
It took almost four hours to get the house quieted back down. Only Todd slept through the commotion. Jackie slid into bed, huddled under the blanket in the spare room and knew she wouldn’t sleep a wink.
Morning brought renewed determination and an Officer Smith to replace Officer Lannigan. Officer Smith was svelte, dark haired and exceptionally pretty. She had a tough, no-nonsense attitude that marked her as a policewoman despite the street clothes she wore.
“I don’t like this,” J.D. told them.
“Larry has to be stopped, J.D.”
“Well, why the hell can’t the cops find him? We don’t have that many motels or hotels in this area. Lannigan even got the license number of his car last night. How difficult can this be?” he demanded of the officer.
“I couldn’t say, sir. My job is to protect Ms. Neeley. I assure you, I intend to do just that.”
Aunt Dottie bustled into the room, took one look around and hurried for the stove. “I’ll fix some breakfast.”
“No, thank you, Aunt Dottie. I have to get to the shop,” Jackie told her.
“I’m going with you,” J.D. announced.
Jackie stood, ignoring the twinge from her ankle when she forgot to use the crutches. “Don’t you have a business to run, J.D.?”
“Damn it—”
Heather and Todd appeared in the doorway behind him. “Stop cursing,” she told him. “It sets a bad example for the children.”
“They’re upstairs.”
“No, we’re not, Daddy, we’re right here,” Todd announced. “Who’re you?”
Jackie sat back down, grateful for their timing. Part of her thrilled to the idea that J.D. cared enough to want to protect her. But facing Larry was something she would have to do sooner or later, and J.D.’s presence in her store might put him at risk.
In the end, a disgruntled J.D. watched her leave with her new escort.
Officer Smith—Freddie, as she asked to be called without a flicker of an eyelash—proved a godsend. Posing as an employee, she pitched in to help. And she wasn’t half bad, Jackie decided. The crutches made climbing and lifting impossible, so Angel and Freddie took care of hanging the signs while Jackie checked off the new inventory and caught up on paperwork between customers.
By midafternoon, things quieted down enough for Angel to take a lunch break with Juan. Seeing the two together, brought her thoughts to J.D. Why hadn’t he called to check on her? Was he angry? Having second thoughts?
“Jackie? I need to use the rest room,” Freddie told her a few minutes later. “I’d prefer it if you’d come back with me and wait in the office for a minute.”
That seemed to be carrying the togetherness a bit far, but Jackie nodded. The bell over the door would alert her if anyone entered the shop. She gathered the newspapers and went back to her office.
The computer reminded her of Todd’s discovery. She’d forgotten all about it until now. She’d show Freddie the files and see if the officer thought they might be related to the burglaries.
Jackie spread open the paper. The first two ads were in good, prominent spots in the local daily and the Frederick paper. In the third paper, a weekly, the ad was smaller than it should have been and faced the obituary columns.
“Great. Just great.” She was frowning over the placement when her eye was snagged by the heading in the first obituary. “Local Businesswoman Dies.” Jackie read the headline, but it was the picture that sent waves of pure fear rolling through her.
Jackie dropped the paper, heart pounding. Before she could call out to Freddie, the telephone rang sharply. Trembling, she reached for the instrument. “Sundae Delights,” she managed to say.
“Jackie?” J.D.’s growly rumble filled her ear.
“J.D.” His name came out on a sigh of relief.
&nb
sp; “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“The paper. I was checking on the ad for the holiday sale. They put it next to the obituaries.”
“Is that all?” His voice sounded amused. “For a minute I thought something was really wrong.”
“It is, J.D. Do you have a copy of the paper?”
“No.” Caution entered his tone. “What’s wrong?”
“The lead obituary. It’s mine.”
Chapter Thirteen
For a moment there was silence. Jackie heard loud noises coming from the storeroom. What was Freddie doing? Why had she gone back there? Then J.D. said quietly, “Where are you? Where’s Officer Smith?”
“I’m in my office. She went to the bathroom, but I can hear her in the storeroom.”
“Show her the ad. I’m on my way.”
“No. Wait, J.D.” But she was talking to an empty line. Jackie hung up, her eyes carefully averted from the newspaper picture. It had been taken without her knowledge right outside the shop.
She tried to stay calm. Fear was her enemy. Larry liked to see the fear. She mustn’t give him that pleasure. But reading the words, seeing her picture underneath that heading, she tried to stop shaking and couldn’t.
“Freddie?”
There was a muffled sound, but Freddie didn’t answer her. Jackie rose, unable to sit a moment longer with that awful article staring up at her. “Freddie? You need to see what I just found.”
The bathroom door stood open and empty.
“Freddie?”
She heard no movement now from the storeroom. A new fear pricked her heart. Why hadn’t Freddie answered?
The back door!
No, the door was locked. They might not have put the bolt down after the last delivery, but the lock was on. She’d made sure each time the door had been opened, and Freddie had double-checked.
“Freddie?”
This time, she heard a muffled but distinct groan. The lights in the storeroom left no dark corners. They clearly revealed Officer Freddie Smith, crumpled on the floor, her bloody face resting against a crate.
“Freddie!”
Jackie stopped, fighting her instinct to rush forward. She expected to see Larry standing there grinning, but the room was empty. No one had passed her office to get to the storeroom. How had anyone gotten inside?
Freddie groaned.
Jackie pivoted, heading for the telephone.
There was no sound, but the sudden blast of icy air gave her an instant’s warning as the freezer door opened. It was enough. She dropped the left crutch even as she spun around, the right crutch raised in both hands as a weapon.
He lunged at her.
Jackie smashed the crutch across his face. There was a distinct crack as his nose broke. Larry yelled. Blood spurted. Jackie ran for the front of the store.
Larry swore viciously as he came after her.
She wouldn’t make it around the counter, she realized. A meaty hand closed over her shoulder. Jackie felt her sweatshirt tear. She ducked her head instinctively as he spun her around. His fist bounced off her shoulder. She reeled back against the waist-high freezer.
Jackie drew a deep breath and screamed. Larry yanked her forward and her bad ankle twisted.
“You can’t run,” he snarled.
His breath was a foul stench against her face. His once handsome face was unshaven and ugly with rage. He shook her until her teeth clacked together.
“Let her go, Zalewoski!”
Though startled, Jackie didn’t turn at the sound of J.D.’s voice. Instead, she groped for the ice pick behind her.
Abruptly, Larry shoved her back against the counter, a well-remembered fury gleaming in his eyes.
“If it isn’t the lover,” Larry sneered. “You just saved me the trouble of coming after you next.”
“No! J.D., go get help!” Her fingers closed over the ice pick.
“Yeah, J.D., get some help. You’re going to need it.”
Murder shone in his eyes. He raised his fist and Jackie stabbed upward with all her strength.
The point plunged through his heavy winter coat and buried itself to the hilt. For a stunned second, neither of them moved. She couldn’t tell if she’d hurt him or not. Larry’s expression was nothing short of incredulous.
He yanked the ice pick from his coat and twisted to face J.D. who barreled around the counter, hitting him in a tackle that sent all three of them crashing to the floor. The ice pick flew from Larry’s hand. Jackie rolled clear as the two men traded blows. She scrambled to her feet, searching for another weapon.
Larry slammed J.D.’s head back against the freezer. He reached for the ice pick and got to his feet.
“J.D.! Look out!”
“Police,” Freddie yelled from the doorway. “Drop the weapon.” Blood ran down her face, matting her hair.
Most of one eye was closed, yet the gun in her two hands held steady, pointed right at Larry’s chest.
Larry twisted to face this new threat. Lurching forward, he raised the ice pick in his meaty fist. The gun exploded in a volley of shots and Larry collapsed against the policewoman.
“THERE’S STILL A LOT of unanswered questions, Ben,” J.D. told his friend the next morning.
Thompkins set his coffee cup on the kitchen table and rubbed at the stubble on his unshaven chin. “Yeah. We know. He had keys,” Thompkins told him. “We were so fixated on the house we looked right past the obvious.”
“Zalewoski was the one who mugged Jackie that night?”
“So it appears. They recovered her purse from his car this morning. Apparently, he’d been living out of the car for several days now. There was a camera and lots of pictures. He’d been stalking her for at least a week. There were pictures of the two of you and even some of your kids.”
J.D. felt sick.
“He waited until after the last delivery,” Thompkins continued, “and unlocked the back door. Smith was in the bathroom when she remembered they hadn’t put the bar down. She wasn’t particularly worried since she knew the door was locked. Hell, none of us expected him to attack at the store in broad daylight.”
J.D. managed a curse. “I should have thought of the store keys when she said all her keys were in her purse.”
“If you think you’ve cornered the market on self-recrimination, get in line. It was Smith’s job to protect her. That oversight nearly cost both their lives.”
“How is she doing?”
“Serious, but stable.”
“Have they questioned him yet?”
“He’s dead, J.D. Six o’clock this morning. He never regained consciousness.” Thompkins made a sound of frustration. “Bastard should have died on the spot”
“But he is dead.”
Both men whirled at the sound of Jackie’s voice. Framed in J.D.’s kitchen doorway, she appeared small and fragile. J.D. stood, but something in the proud lift of her head kept him from rushing across the room.
“About time you got up,” he said instead.
Gratitude flashed in Jackie’s eyes and J.D. knew he’d made the right decision. She didn’t need fussing over. She needed to feel in control again after what had happened.
“Coffee?” he asked.
Jackie nodded and limped to the nearest chair. She hadn’t bothered with crutches today, he noticed.
“How are you feeling, Ms. Neeley?” Thompkins asked.
“Bruised. And logy.” She gave J.D. a meaningful glare. “Like someone drugged me.”
He spread his hands. “Hey, the doctor recommended you take those pills since you wouldn’t stay at the hospital last night. They were just mild sleeping pills and they worked. You slept” He picked up the fresh mug of coffee and set it down carefully in front of her.
“Yeah, all night and half the day.”
“It’s not eleven-thirty yet,” he pointed out, trying to tease her a little.
Jackie made a face and turned to Thompkins. “I suppose you’re here with more questions.”
“No, ma’am, I’m not here officially, at all. This case belongs to the state boys now, though they’ve been kind enough to keep us local folks updated. I was just passing along the latest information.”
Jackie took in his frayed checkered shirt and jeans and visibly relaxed.
“Well, I have some questions, if you don’t,” she said.
“Yes, ma’—”
“Do you think you can stop calling me ma’am? I mean, since you aren’t here officially?”
J.D. had never seen his friend look embarrassed before. Ben nodded.
“Why did he come after me now? It’s been six years.”
“They’re still putting it together, but it looks like he snapped completely after he killed his second wife.”
“The girl in the wedding picture?” J.D. asked.
“Yeah. She would have been twenty tomorrow.”
Jackie inhaled sharply. “And now she’s just dead.”
“There’s a real good chance you two weren’t his first victims,” Thompkins told her sympathetically. “They’re checking his past, looking for other wives or exgirlfriends.”
“Still,” J.D. protested, “once Jackie left Indiana, why did he wait so long before looking for her?”
Thompkins shrugged. “Who’s to say he waited? Maybe it took him this long to find her. Or maybe killing h?s second wife just pushed him over some edge. We may never know.” Thompkins took a swallow of his coffee and eyed Jackie. “But if he’d managed to kill you yesterday, it’s a safe bet he would have gone hunting for another woman who looked like you.”
Jackie shuddered. “Why did he kill Brad Volmer?”
Again, Thompkins rubbed at the light stubble on his chin. “We don’t know that he did. Volmer was strangled, remember? Zalewoski liked to use his fists.”
“And Oggie Korbel was shot,” J.D. said thoughtfully.
Thompkins nodded. “Zalewoski didn’t carry any weapons that we can find. And what would be the motive?”
J.D. frowned. “You’re telling us it’s coincidence that three men connected with Jackie’s house are dead?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Come on, Ben, what’s going on? What aren’t you telling us?”
Thompkins drummed his fingers on the table. Jackie sipped her coffee, never taking her eyes from his face.
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