Beverly Barton 3 Book Bundle

by Beverly Barton

  “What’s the point in doing that?” Bernie tossed the plastic fork down into her salad and closed the lid on the Styrofoam takeout plate. “You talked to Captain Shepard again and he told you that Heather and Shannon were close friends in high school, that they lived only a couple of blocks from each other, and they were both pretty, popular brunettes. What more do you think you’ll find out if you go to Greenville? And what makes you think that if you find out anything, it will help us catch this guy?”

  Jim huffed. “Call it a gut feeling.”

  “Look, I’m not discounting your gut feelings, but right now, you’re needed here.”

  When Bernie picked up her plate and cup, Jim reached over and took them from her. They exchanged smiles. He tossed her uneaten lunch and empty cup into the trash.

  “We can’t count on the crime scene guys coming up with anything useful,” Jim said. “We’re dealing with a very smart man. There won’t be any of his fingerprints on the items he sent Abby Miller. And I’ll guarantee you that every gift, every piece of sketch paper, and everything else will all be items that you could purchase just about anywhere, making them pretty much untraceable.”

  “So you’re saying that the fact Abby saved everything really won’t help us at all.”

  “It could help us, but not the way you think.”

  She eyed him curiously.

  “I believe it’s time we release a little more information to the press,” Jim said. “Just enough so that if any other woman starts receiving strange little gifts and sketches, she’ll come to us right away.”

  “Oh, God, do you know what you’re implying? This guy takes one hostage at a time and he doesn’t start pursuing another woman until he’s killed—”

  “Abby’s being watched twenty-four/seven. I’m hoping our guy will realize he can’t get to her and move on to someone else. Or …”

  “Or what?”

  “Or make a move and get caught.”

  “How likely is that?”

  Jim pursed his lips. “Hmm… unlikely, but you never know. He may get so pissed about not being able to grab Abby easily that he’ll make a mistake. That’s what we have to pray for—that he’ll make a mistake, slip up somehow and give himself away.”

  “Are you saying that’s the only way we’ll ever catch him?”

  “Probably. Sooner or later, most of these guys make a mistake. Sometimes just a small mistake, but it’s usually enough to give the officers involved the break they’d been hoping for. Despite how smart our guy thinks he is, it’s just a matter of time until he screws up. And he may not even know when he does it.”

  “Okay, I understand, and you’re probably right. But in the meantime, my primary concern is keeping Abby Miller safe.” Contemplating, Bernie rubbed her bottom lip over her top lip. “I’m depending on you to help me keep Ron in check. He’s emotionally involved with Abby.” When she glanced at Jim, he nodded. “You’d already figured that out, hadn’t you?”

  “Yeah, I think he pretty much gave himself away when he threatened to take apart Dr. Kelley and Reverend Donaldson piece by piece when Abby mentioned them as two men who’d shown an interest in her recently. That’s why I ordered Ron to stay away from Brandon Kelley and the reverend and sent John to interview both men.”

  “Dr. Kelley has alibis for the approximate times Stephanie and Thomasina were murdered,” Bernie said. “And I refuse to believe a man as sweet and gentle as Matthew could possibly be a killer.”

  “Dr. Kelley’s alibis are from two of his lovers, women who might lie for him. And it’s possible that the good reverend is not what he seems.”

  “Anything is possible,” Bernie agreed. “As for Dr. Kelley’s alibis—are you forgetting that my sister was one of those women?”

  “And Robyn would never lie?”

  “Not to protect a murderer. Not intentionally.”

  “Hmm … Yeah, you’re right. She wouldn’t.”

  For the past week and a half—ever since the hot kiss they’d shared in her backyard—Bernie and Jim had been acting as if nothing had happened between them. They were friends—good friends—working together, trying to solve a deadly mystery, trying to catch a ruthless killer. They had shared meals together in the evenings, usually at her house, sometimes at her parents’ home. They had assisted Kevin with his homework every night, had taken him to the movies twice, had been enjoying the last days of summer with him at her parents’ pool, and had been helping him adjust to his new school and his new life with his father.

  But during this time, two subjects had been taboo: the kiss they’d shared and Bernie’s sister, Robyn.

  “Did you know that Robyn is dating Raymond?” Bernie watched Jim’s face for a reaction.

  Surprisingly enough, he grinned. “Yeah, I hear those two are quite an item.”

  “Even my folks think they’re an odd couple. Sort of beauty and the beast.”

  Jim chuckled. “I wouldn’t exactly call Raymond a beast.”

  She stared at Jim, dumbfounded. “You really don’t care, do you?”

  “That your sister has found someone who’ll gladly worship at her feet? Hell, no. I think old Raymond is just what Robyn needs.”

  Bernie reared back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t have any feelings for Robyn? None at all?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. I like Robyn. I appreciate the fact that she’s a beautiful woman. And because she’s your sister, I care about her.”

  A silly, totally female reaction fluttered inside Bernie’s stomach. “You care about Robyn because she’s my sister?”

  “Yeah, you know, kind of like any friend of yours… or my casa is your casa.”

  Bernie laughed. “I’m trying to figure that one out.”

  “You know what I meant. I care about you.” He looked right at her. “A lot.”

  He had rendered her speechless. She sat there and stared at him.

  “Heck, you’re the first woman, other than relatives, of course, I’ve ever cared about that I wasn’t banging.”

  Bernie burst into laughter. Jim gave her an odd look. She laughed so hard that her sides hurt and tears dampened her eyes. God love him, he was such an honest man. Bluntly honest, totally macho and about as politically incorrect as a guy could be.

  “What’s so all-fired funny?”

  “You are, Jim Norton. You say something sweet, tell a woman you care about her, and then you go and spoil it by saying something so blatantly macho.”

  “I warned you that I’m not into political correctness.” He reached across her desk and grasped her hand. “I didn’t hurt your feelings, did I? The last thing I’d ever want to do is—”

  “Ruin our friendship by banging me.” She snatched her hand away from him.

  Jim’s face flushed. She had actually embarrassed him.

  “You don’t mind cutting a man off at the knees, do you, honey?”

  “That’s one way to cut you down to my size.” She grinned, reminding herself and letting him know that he hadn’t seriously offended her, that she neither wanted nor expected more than friendship from him.

  He stared at her for one long, rather peculiar moment; then he slapped his hands on his thighs and said, “Back to business. I should head over to my office and check in with John, see how the interviews with Dr. Kelley and Reverend Donaldson went.”

  “If anything significant came out of either interview, let me know.”

  Jim scooted back his chair and stood. “Want to grill steaks tonight?”

  “Actually, Dad’s Masonic lodge is hosting a fish fry. Catfish, hush puppies, slaw, and fries. All the proceeds go to charity. I bought several tickets. Why don’t I pick up three meals and bring them over to your place around six-thirty?”

  Jim frowned.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  “You know, I have no idea whether Kevin likes catfish.”

  “He does. I mentioned the fish fry to him last night and he said he loves catfish.”


  “What kind of a father doesn’t know something like that about his own kid?”

  Bernie got up, rounded her desk and put her hand on Jim’s shoulder. “A father who hasn’t been allowed to spend much time with his son.”

  “You always know the right thing to say to make me feel better.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Just a friendly kiss. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “See you around six-thirty.”

  She stood there and watched him as he left her office, wishing she had the guts to say what she really wanted to say. Come back here, Jim Norton, and really kiss me. Kiss me the way you did two weeks ago. And as for being the only woman you’ve ever cared about that you weren’t banging—well, screw that. Hell, screw me. Bang me. I want you so much I break out in a cold sweat just thinking about what it would be like.

  * * *

  So Abby had kept all his little gifts. That pleased him. But she had shown the items he had so carefully chosen for her to the police. To her lover, Ron Hensley. To Sheriff Granger and Chief Deputy Jim Norton. Why did she have to go and share such precious, intimate items with other people?

  Because she doesn’t understand. Not yet. She isn’t sure who her secret lover is. Once she knows for sure and is certain that I’m the man who adores her, that knowledge will change everything. After all, she’s fallen in love with me already. She wants me as much as I want her.

  When I go to her and take her away, she’ll be happy. I’ll make her happy. I’ll allow her to prove to me how much she loves me. She won’t be like the others. She won’t disappoint me.

  Abby will give me what I want … what I need.

  Won’t you, my darling?

  He watched her house through the binoculars as Deputy Mitchell left and Deputy Hensley entered through the front door. They were guarding her around the clock, protecting her from her destiny, trying to keep them apart. But no power on earth could stop him from claiming what was rightfully his. And Abby was his. Or she soon would be. He simply had to think of a way to outsmart the deputies.

  He laughed. Outsmarting these local yokels shouldn’t be all that difficult.

  Soon, Abby. Soon my love.

  Chapter 22

  At precisely three o’clock, Jim pulled up at Adams Landing Middle School, which served grades six through eight. R.B. or Brenda had been picking Kevin up every day since school started last week, but Jim had taken off early from work today after promising Kevin they’d go fishing. R.B. had given Jim permission to use his pontoon boat, which he kept moored at the Adams Landing Marina, located in the Tennessee River backwaters, halfway between Adams Landing and Pine Bluff. Jim had invited Bernie to go along with them, but she’d declined.

  “I think you two should spend some quality father and son time alone together,” she’d told him. And she’d been right. Kevin had been living with him for weeks now, and although they were becoming better acquainted, mostly thanks to Bernie and her folks, he still didn’t really know his son. Kevin wouldn’t open up and talk to him, not the way he did with Bernie.

  Odd thing was, he envied both Kevin and Bernie. He wanted his son to be able to talk to him, to share his worries and concerns, to discuss his hopes and dreams. And sometimes he thought it would be nice if Bernie lavished as much attention on him as she did Kevin. Nutty idea. He was just lonely for female companionship, that’s all it was. What he needed was to get laid, and the sooner the better. But except for that one dinner with Robyn and his almost-date with Holly, he hadn’t dated anyone since he’d moved to Adams Landing.

  Jim opened the driver’s door and got out just as the bell rang. Apparently his watch and the school clock weren’t synchronized. Either his watch was two minutes fast or the clock was two minutes slow. Within minutes of the bell ringing, front and side doors of the school building flew open and kids of various sizes came barreling outside onto the sidewalks. Kevin had told him that the sixth graders were allowed to leave first; then five minutes later, the seventh and eighth graders were dismissed.

  Watching the mad scramble of middle school students, Jim propped up against the side of his truck. He remembered being in middle school, especially eighth grade. He recalled that year for two reasons. He’d gone out for football at the end of that year and had made the team. He’d been big for his age, just like Kevin, who showed no interest whatsoever in the sport Jim loved. And then there was Roseanna Kimball, the prettiest girl in his class. She’d been his first love, the first girl he had French kissed, and the first girl who had let him touch her breasts. He was thirteen, with raging hormones, so whenever he’d just thought about Roseanna, he got a woody. The first time she let him feel her up, he nearly came right on the spot.

  “Hey, there’s my dad,” Kevin called out as he threw up his hand and waved at Jim.

  Jim wondered what Kevin was doing coming out of school before his grade had been dismissed; then he saw that Kevin wasn’t alone. He was with Deputy Scotty Joe Walters and both of them were loaded down with boxes.

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” Kevin hollered at Jim. “I gotta help Scotty Joe get this stuff to his truck.”

  Scotty Joe grinned, his teeth bright white against his deeply tanned complexion. Jim wondered if the young deputy got his tan from simply spending a lot of time outdoors or if he used a tanning bed. He was a handsome devil—blue eyed, blond haired, tall and muscular. He’d heard around town that all the young girls had a thing for Scotty Joe. Hell, who could blame them. The guy looked like a cover model out of the latest GQ magazine. Or better yet, off the cover of a fitness magazine.

  “Kevin helped me with my presentation to the eighth graders today,” Scotty Joe said as he headed toward his SUV parked across the street from the line of cars waiting to pick up kids from school. “You’ve got yourself one great kid there, Captain Norton.”

  “Yeah, I do.” Jim walked over and fell in step with Kevin. “Need some help, son?”

  “No, thanks, Dad.” Kevin followed Scotty Joe, who hoisted the boxes he carried onto the roof of his vehicle, then unlocked the back hatch and lowered it. He turned to Kevin. “Here, let me take those.”

  Kevin handed over the boxes. “If you need any help when you come back next week to talk to the seventh graders, just let me know.”

  Scotty Joe chuckled as he slid the boxes into the back of his SUV. “Smart kid.” He winked at Jim. “He’s already figuring out ways to cut class without getting into trouble.”

  “Ah, that’s not it and you know it,” Kevin said. “I just liked being your assistant today. And I really thought what you had to say was interesting. Besides, you talked to us like … well, like we’re on your level. You didn’t talk down to us like we’re a bunch of dumb kids.”

  Scotty Joe reached out and ruffled Kevin’s overly long hair. Jim realized he needed to get his son an appointment for a haircut pretty soon. He wasn’t used to having to worry about things like making sure Kevin got haircuts or him seeing a dentist regularly or dozens of mundane daily things that made up a boy’s routine.

  “I remember what it was like to be a kid,” Scotty Joe said. “It’s not easy, especially not when all the grown-ups treat you like you don’t have sense enough to come in out of the rain.”

  Kevin laughed. “You got that right.”

  “Are you about ready to go, son?” Jim asked.

  “Yeah, in just a minute,” Kevin replied. “Hey, Scotty Joe, my dad and I are going fishing this afternoon.” Kevin glanced back and forth from the young deputy to Jim. “We’re borrowing R.B.’s boat. Want to go fishing with us?”

  Scotty Joe lifted the other boxes from the roof and looked at Jim, silently asking him how he should respond, whether it was okay to say yes.

  “Yeah, why don’t you come along with us?” Jim said. “If you have a rod and reel, we can stop by your place and get it.”

  “If you’re sure you don’t mind my tagging along, I’d love to go.” Scotty Joe shoved the other boxes into place, then turned
to Kevin. “Tell y’all what—you two go on and I’ll pick up my rod and reel on my way to the community college where we store all our D.A.R.E. stuff, and then I’ll meet y’all at the marina. That’s where the sheriff keeps his boat, right?” Scotty Joe chuckled. “I guess I should say the former sheriff. But everybody in town still calls R.B. Sheriff Granger.”

  “Yeah, but Bernie’s Sheriff Granger now,” Kevin said.

  Scotty Joe closed and locked the hatch. “Gets kind of confusing, doesn’t it?”

  “We’re going to pick up some bait and some ice for the cooler,” Jim said. “We’re drinking colas today. Want any particular kind?”

  “Nah, any kind will be fine. And colas are okay with me. I don’t drink. Not even beer.” He patted his washboard lean belly. “Liquor’s not good for the body.”

  Yeah, probably not when you’re young and in prime condition. Just wait till you’re forty, got bad knees and ache like the devil. You won’t pass up a swig of Jack Daniel’s every once in a while.

  “We’ll see you in about an hour,” Jim said.

  Scotty Joe nodded, then got in his SUV and started the engine. Kevin followed Jim over to his battered old truck, got in and fastened his seatbelt.

  Once Jim was inside, his safety belt secure and his key in the ignition, Kevin asked, “How old do you think Scotty Joe is?”

  “I don’t know. Late twenties, I guess.”

  “Do you think he’s too young for Bernie?”

  “What?” Jim started the engine and knocked the gear into DRIVE.

  “Well, if you’re not interested in Bernie as a girlfriend, I was thinking maybe Scotty Joe might want to date her.”

  “What made you think something like that? Scotty Joe is too young for Bernie. Besides, he’s not her type.”

  “What is her type?”

  “I don’t know. Somebody a little older. A guy who’s not such a … a …”

  “A what? I like Scotty Joe. All the guys at my school like him.”