“Here you are, sweetie.” The teller was back. She ripped my deposit receipt off the printer, stuffed it in an envelope and slid it across the counter to me. “Better hurry.” She tipped her head toward the door where an elderly man in a blue security guard uniform waited, a clutch of keys in his hand.
He wished me a good evening in a gravely voice and held the door for me. I managed a wobbly smile of thanks and ran for my truck. Was I seconds away from being identified? Halted? Sirens blaring? They already knew my name.
For what crime? I wasn’t sure, but it could be any number of things.
I slouched in the seat, panting, and watched through the bank’s large plate glass windows as lights inside the building were flicked off one by one until only the dim after-hours fixtures glowed directly over the teller counter.
I’d crumpled the envelope in my fist. It was an odd extra touch, considering the nature of the transaction. I smoothed it flat and extracted the receipt — and something else. A note.
Nora, I have your pouch — from your husband, Skip. He said you’d come. I’ll leave in about 15 minutes, in a green Buick. Please follow to my house. Selma.
NOTES & ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Woodland and Longview are both real cities along the I-5 corridor in southwest Washington State. However, I have taken tremendous liberties with spacing and locations, and all the retail establishments and institutions, including county government, described in the Mayfield series are entirely fictional and placed for the convenience of storytelling. If you decide to visit the area, though, I can promise you will find just as many trees, mountains, backroads, and neighborly folks — and as much rain — as described.
Profound thanks to the following people who gave their time and expertise to assist in the writing of this book:
Sergeant Fred Neiman, Sr. and all the instructors of the Clark County Sheriff’s Citizens’ Academy. The highlights had to be firing the Thompson submachine gun and stepping into the medical examiner’s walk-in cooler. Oh, and the K-9 demonstration and the officer survival/lethal force decision making test. And the drug task force presentation with identification color spectrum pictures and the — you get the idea.
Beth Anne Steele of the FBI Public Affairs Office, Portland Division, for letting me attend the Community Relations Executive Seminar Training program even though my only (non) qualification is that I make stuff up for a living. And to the special agents and support staff who shared their knowledge and stories.
I claim all errors, whether accidental or intentional, solely as my own.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I live in a small town in the west end of the Columbia River Gorge. When I grow up, I fully intend to be a feisty old lady. In the meantime, I regularly max out my library's lending limit, have happily declared a truce with the clover in the lawn, but am fanatical about sealing up cracks in my old house, armed with a caulking gun. Due to the number of gaps I have yet to locate, however, I have also perfected my big spider shriek.
I love wool socks, Pink Lady apples with crunchy peanut butter, feather pillows, scenery of breathtaking grandeur, and weather just cool enough to require a sweater, all of which are plentiful in the Pacific Northwest. I am eternally grateful to have escaped the corporate world with its relentless, mind-numbing meetings and now write (or doodle or fantasize or cogitate or stare out the window or whatever you want to call it) full time.
I post updates on my website www.jerushajones.com
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Also by Jerusha Jones
The Imogene Museum Mystery Series
Rock Bottom
Doubled Up
Sight Shot
Tin Foil
Faux Reel
Shift Burn
Grab & Go (Mayfield Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 19