My face warmed with embarrassment. "I'm terribly sorry. I thought you were someone else. I never would have knocked like that but—"
She brushed past me muttering something about rudeness. I stood for a second to collect myself and get over the embarrassment. In that moment, I heard Violet. "I've got to get back to my soaps, or they'll all be ruined. It was good talking to you and catching up. And yes, hopefully next year's fair will be better. This one was certainly a disaster."
I stayed tucked around the corner of the building and waited for Violet to walk past. I didn't want her to think I was skulking in the shadows following her around. She appeared to be perfectly safe as she strolled back to her soaps.
My earlier alarm and the accompanying adrenaline had nearly dissipated. I headed back toward the front of the venue. I took the long way around, a wide berth behind the kiosks, to avoid being seen by my suspect. It turned out I'd gone out of my way for nothing. Juniper was no longer in her stand. Violet was hurriedly packing all her soaps into large plastic bins. The drizzle had increased to light drops, but it was still far from a downpour.
I headed out to my jeep and glanced toward Juniper's van. She was just climbing into the driver's seat. Maybe I'd been wrong. Maybe the goat on the tombstone was just coincidence. Whether or not my theory was right, it seemed there would not be a third murder. At least not today. It was entirely possible the opportunity never presented itself, so Juniper couldn't carry out her sinister plan. Or maybe I was just a crazy journalist wishing so much for a break in a story, I made one up.
The rain was getting heavier. I climbed into the jeep and checked my phone. No messages from Jackson. I decided to wait for Juniper to leave just to be safe. After a good five minutes, I realized she wasn't going anywhere. She was sitting in the driver's seat staring out at the weather or so I thought until Violet walked out to her truck. Juniper sat forward with interest and watched as Violet loaded a few boxes into the backseat of her truck and climbed inside.
The rain on all the windows made good cover for Juniper. Violet didn't notice she was being watched. The same was true for me. My jeep was tucked farther off in the lot, but the rainy windshield made it easy to hide from my target. And, it seemed, my target had been waiting patiently for her next victim.
Steamy exhaust shot out from the back of Violet's truck as she started the motor. The same tail of steam shot out of Juniper's van. It still could have been coincidence, but when Violet drove out of the lot, Juniper followed behind. She left enough distance to make it seem as if they just happened to be driving in the same direction. But I knew better. This was not two women driving in the same direction. This was a cold-blooded killer hunting down her next prey.
I grabbed my phone and fired off a quick text to Jackson. "Violet Harville is going to be the next victim." The text was one where I would have expected an immediate response. Since there wasn't one, I had to assume he was too busy to check his phone.
I started up the jeep and followed the two vehicles. For once, the rainy weather was working for rather than against me. Rain always decreased visibility, and the less visible I was, the better. Not that Juniper had any reason to think she was being followed to her next murder scene.
My phone pinged as I drove onto Butternut Crest, but I didn't dare take my eyes off the road, especially with the bad weather. The light rain had turned to a downpour. People tended to brake too often and too hard when precipitation was falling. There were two sedans between the jeep and Juniper's van. A plumbing truck had somehow managed to wedge itself between Violet and Juniper. Rain was slowing everyone down and causing its usual chaos on the road. I lost sight of Juniper and Violet on the curves, but there weren't many turnoffs on Butternut Crest. They always reappeared once we reached the straight sections. According to her business card, Juniper lived in Smithville, in the opposite direction. More proof she was following Violet to kill her.
Before the next curve, Violet made a right and headed down a tree-lined road. Right on cue, Juniper's van turned right. I reached the same turn but was suddenly stopped when a farmer pulled out onto the road with a slow moving tractor. He was decked out in his yellow rain gear, including a large floppy rain hat. It had blocked his view enough that he hadn't seen me come round the corner.
The giant machine bounced along as it traveled at a snail's pace past several farms. I stretched up and moved side to side in an attempt to see past the tractor, but it was massive. Just as it seemed we were about to reach a section where the road was wide enough for me to pass, he turned sharply, still unaware that anyone was behind him. He rolled forward, lowered the front scoop on the tractor and picked up a load of mud that seemed to be stopping up a storm drain.
It was then that he finally spotted me past the low, dripping brim of his hat. He waved politely and finished his task. It took him several more minutes to turn the tractor around with its heavy load of mud. I pulled the jeep over as far as I could while still avoiding a ditch that was now flowing as fast as a river. He waved again as he waddled by on his huge tractor.
Up ahead, Juniper's van was parked along the side of the road. There was no sign of her. Violet's truck was parked in front of a farmhouse. The house was set back far from the road, and most of it was blocked by tall trees.
I slapped down the gas pedal and raced ahead. I parked behind the van and jumped out of the jeep. Mud instantly caked my shoes and water seeped into my socks as I ran up the gravel road leading to the farmhouse.
I was drenched by the time I reached Violet's truck. She was just leaning into the backseat to grab something. Before I could take a breath to call out her name, Juniper crept out from behind a nearby tree. Her arm lifted. A long, sliver needle glinted in the gray daylight.
"No!" I screamed and lunged toward Juniper. I smacked her arm hard, and the syringe dropped from her hand.
The Juniper who turned toward me was not the same woman I'd been idly chatting with at the fair. Her pupils were huge and black as her face turned red with rage. She yelled and before I could step back, she shoved me so hard I flew off my feet and landed on my back. The air swept out of me and little black dots blurred my vision.
I was frozen in those few moments of terror when you're frantically trying to get your wind back. My body convulsed as I desperately sucked air into my lungs. Somewhere in the distance I heard Violet scream, "Stop, Juniper!"
I squinted up into heavy rain and, again, saw the glint of a needle. This time it was hovering directly above me.
Chapter 35
The pain in my back and lack of oxygen muddled my thinking, but my internal alarm system told me to roll away from the needle wielding hand torpedoing toward me. Then, in a blur, the hand and the needle disappeared, and a grunt of pain followed. My wind returned at the same time. I rapidly collected myself and sat up. Pain shot up my back, but I was so relieved to breathe again, it was easy to ignore. In seconds, I'd untangled the rain-drenched scene in front of me. It nearly knocked the breath from me again.
Another grunt of pain pulled my gaze to the figure on the ground. It seemed my attacker was going through the same struggle to breathe as I had only seconds before. Juniper rolled onto her side, gasping for air like a landed fish. A hand lowered to me and I took it.
Dave Crockett helped me to my feet. A distant siren rolled over the countryside. We both turned toward the sound. "Here comes the cavalry," Dave quipped.
Violet, who was soaked to the bone, shivering and pale from shock and confusion, walked toward the syringe that was stuck needle down in the gravel driveway.
"No!" I said abruptly. She startled but froze in the spot. "Don't touch it," I continued calmly. "It contains a very lethal poison." I glared at Juniper. She was just recovering from being shoved to the ground. "Isn't that right, Juniper?"
Juniper rubbed her lower back as she sat up. "That's right. And they deserve it," she growled. "All of them think they're better than the rest of us. They're like those terrible mean girls in high school." S
he peered up at me. "Don't tell me you haven't thought of doing the same thing to those girls you went to school with, the ones who shunned you and teased you and called you names." It seemed there was more to this whole tragedy than a woman denied membership in a crafting club. Prudence led me to believe that Juniper was not like the other children her age. It seemed she'd endured a great deal of teasing and bullying.
The sirens grew louder and the red spinning lights flickered on the wet road. Jackson's car was at the front of the line, his tires moving so fast they sprayed rooster tails of rain behind.
Naturally, Dave's rain slicker was gray. I couldn't have been more happy to see it. "Dave, I don't understand. Where did you come from?" I glanced toward the road and saw his silver sedan parked behind my jeep.
"I spotted you leaving the craft fair parking lot." He looked down at his feet and rain poured off his hat. "I'm ashamed to admit I was following you to see what you were up to. I hadn't gotten anywhere on the story, but I knew you'd be on top of it." He paused and looked up at me. "Because I know you're a great reporter."
Just when I thought I couldn't be more shocked at what had transpired, I found myself amazed again. "Dave, I don't know what to say."
"First, you can tell me to do my own leg work. Although, I'm glad that I was following you on this occasion." There was an entirely different Dave standing in front of me. He was contrite and likeable. I could see what Lana saw in him.
"You saved my life," I said. "Anytime you need me to do some leg work, I'm happy to do it. I owe you big time."
Jackson's car flew onto the gravel driveway. He barely had it in park as he jumped out of the car and raced toward us. (How did the man look so glorious in rain while the rest of us looked like drowned rats?)
"Sunni." He was breathless from worry as he reached us. "You're all right." He took a second to gain composure, glanced around at the scene, and the relief in his face turned to annoyance. "How many times do I have to tell you—"
I put a hand on his chest to stop him. "And how many times do I have to tell you I'm a reporter. Only the good ones get themselves in sticky situations." I motioned toward the syringe sitting upright in the ground. "And this one was particularly sticky."
Jackson temporarily broke protocol to assure me he was more than a little relieved. He took my hand and pulled me toward him for a hug.
I hesitated. "I'm soaking wet," I noted.
"You sure are." He hugged me tightly, and for a second, the whole dreadful scene fell away. I was in his protective arms and loving every second of it. Lana deserved the same thing—a pair of protective arms when things were chaotic. After today, I would be giving my full-hearted approval of her new boyfriend.
The rain stopped abruptly almost as if it had been ordered to do so. It was a welcome relief. Jackson released me as the other officers reached the scene. "Juniper Carlson, you are under arrest for the murders of Heniretta Lopez and Katy Michaels." He waved to his officers to read rights and handcuff the suspect. Juniper had just pushed to her feet. Her face was still scrunched in pain. I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
"Crockett," Jackson said as he turned to Dave. "I didn't expect to see you here." There was a rough edge in his tone. In his defense, he had no idea what had just transpired. It was my duty to fill him in.
I put my arm on Jackson's. "Jax, Dave just saved my life."
"And Sunni saved mine," Violet said shakily. She was still trying to grasp all that had transpired.
I smiled at her. "I'm just glad I made it in time." I turned back to Jackson. "I knocked the syringe out of her hand before she plunged it into Violet. In the rain-drenched altercation that followed, Juniper caught me off guard. She shoved me so hard to the ground, the wind was knocked out of me. In the short interim of me struggling to catch my breath, Juniper recovered her syringe. I was about to become her next victim, but Dave knocked Juniper down."
Jackson turned to him with an outstretched hand. "Don't know how I can thank you enough."
Dave shrugged sheepishly. "Just glad I was here to help."
Jackson called to an officer to walk Violet inside to get warm and take her statement.
"I thought you were on another call," I said. "How did you get here so fast?"
"I was on another call. It turned out to be related." Jackson nodded for the officers to get Juniper into the police car. "Those gusts of wind that brought in the rainstorm had knocked over a trash can in a certain Smithville neighborhood. A woman walking her dog saw an empty bottle rolling back and forth on the sidewalk. It was an antique pharmaceutical bottle with a handwritten label."
It was all coming clear. "Let me guess. The label read cyanide, and the fallen trash can was in front of Juniper Carlson's house. Her father was a doctor. He used to perform experiments in the basement."
Jackson nodded. "That would explain the Frankenstein style laboratory we discovered when we searched the house. We also found more cyanide along with some other substances that have long since been banned from use. I got back to the car and read your text. I said to myself, Sunni wouldn't try and stop a murder, would she? I tossed the phone aside and said, yes, of course she would. Made it here in record time."
The cold and the excitement of the afternoon was finally taking hold in my bones. A shiver pulsed through me.
Jackson took my hand. "We need to get you dry and warm." He turned to Dave. "Meet me at the station in an hour. I'll get you all the information you need for your story." He nodded his head toward me. "Or you could just wait till this one gives it all to you. She's generally a better source than those of us at the precinct."
I smiled at Dave. "I've got all kinds of good stuff. I'll write it up and send it through email."
Dave nodded. "Thanks and again, I'm glad I followed you today. I won't do it again. Unless, of course, you're following a killer."
I laughed but Jackson wasn't amused. "Yeah, we probably haven't finished our whole conversation yet. But for now, let's get you home."
Chapter 36
I was ever so thankful for the end of the work week. Saturday was cold and drizzly. The damp air painfully reminded me of the bump on my head and the bruise on my back. The house was quiet. Even my ghost seemed to have taken himself off to his own corner. I made a cup of hot cinnamon apple tea and buried myself under the soft, lush throw blanket on the sitting room sofa. The dogs took their favorite spots on the rug in front of the windows.
I took a few sips of tea, put the cup down on the end table and hunkered down farther into the blanket. I was just getting super comfy and a touch drowsy when the front door opened.
"Hey, sis, I brought you a chocolate cake." Lana's voice echoed off the entry walls.
"I'm in the sitting room," I called back.
Lana had been one of the first people I called after the incident at Violet's farm. Even though she'd been acting as if she wasn't that thrilled with Dave and was even considering calling it off, the story of how he saved her little sister's life seemed to have revived her budding affection for him.
The scent of chocolate cake reached me a few seconds before my sister. I sat forward from my blanket cocoon. "How did I earn a chocolate cake?"
"Dave told me you fell hard and hit your back. That was when he saved your life," she added unnecessarily.
I couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I know. I was there."
She waved off my sarcasm. Lana had put on mascara and lipstick and a new sweater.
"You even dressed up and put on makeup to bring me my cake," I teased.
"You know I only put on lipstick for special occasions. Bringing you cake is not one of them. I'm taking my brave, courageous boyfriend to lunch as a reward for saving my sister's life."
I opened the pink box and scooped some frosting on my finger. "Hmm, buttercream, my favorite." I closed the box for later. "So, you're going to stick it out with Dave?"
"How could I not? He saved your life."
I nodded and held back a laugh. "Yes, we've establishe
d that, but remember, I don't want to be the reason you stay with him, or break it off, for that matter."
Lana smiled coyly. "I do like him and since he saved—" She paused. "Well, you know, that makes me like him even more. He's like one of those heroes on the cover of one of those old romance novels. Without the long hair and the big muscles and tight breeches but you get the point."
"Yes, I do." Right then Edward appeared on the window ledge across the way. With his breeches, black tall boots, long hair and broad shoulders I realized he would have made a great cover model for a historical romance. The moment got away from me, and Lana looked over her shoulder to find out what I was staring at.
Lana turned back to me. "I swear sometimes I catch you smiling and almost flirting with someone, then I turn around and there's no one there."
I sat up straight, so fast, the cake nearly slipped off my lap. "I'm not smiling and I'm certainly not flirting," I said a little too forcefully. "You're imagining things. Where are you taking Dave to lunch?"
"It's a new Italian restaurant in Birch Highlands. It has good reviews." She leaned over and hugged me. "I'm off. Enjoy the cake."
"Thanks for the sweets, and Lana," I said as she headed to the door. "I'm glad you're so happy."
She smiled and waved as she walked out.
"What was she talking about? Who saved your life?" Edward had the questions ready to fire off the second the room was cleared. He drifted over and was wearing what I liked to call his serious ghost expression.
"It was nothing, a little incident. Lana's new boyfriend, Dave, just happened to step in and—well—save me." I was stuck for a better phrase and regretted this one immediately.
Cool air swirled around him as his image sharpened. "Your life was in danger?"
"Just a tiny bit. It was nothing." I held out my arms. "As you can see, I am alive and well, so no harm done."
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