“Take it easy,” she muttered softly and drew a deep breath. “It’s just your imagination.”
Jeanette lowered the letter opener and appeared to relax. The front door creaked. She looked back at the door and saw it was open slightly and moving from a gust of wind. Jeanette suddenly appeared alarmed. She turned toward the hall table phone and came face-to-face with a masked man dressed in black. Jeanette screamed, dropping the letter opener, and jumped backward. A slashing knife nearly sliced her arm. She screamed again and ran toward the partially open front door. She attempted to pull it open the rest of the way, but the man was directly behind her now with his knife ready to strike. She bolted away from the door to avoid him. He crashed into the doorframe while slashing at her at the same time. She screamed and jumped back but not soon enough. The knife scratched her upper arm. She continued to scream, unaware of her minor injury, and ran up the stairs. The intruder chased after her and remained only steps behind her.
There was the thumping of two sets of running feet up the carpeted stairs. As Jeanette reached the top of the stairs, the intruder tackled her just before the top, knocking them both to the steps. Jeanette screamed and kicked the intruder several times until he released her. She scrambled up the last few steps just as he thrust down with his knife. The knife embedded through the carpet and into the floor beneath, narrowly missing her leg. Jeanette screamed and ran along the second floor hallway. She bolted into a nearby bedroom and slammed the door behind her.
Chapter Eight
It only took Jacey five minutes to reach the exclusive neighborhood where her wealthy co-worker lived. Jacey’s old, moderately worn jeep pulled up to the expensive home. She got out of her jeep, looked at her watch, and groaned softly. She hoped it would be a short visit, since her entire evening was pretty much booked. Jacey headed up the porch steps to the eerily silent home. The neighborhood was fairly quiet as well, being most of the children were called home for dinner. Jacey felt lucky she had a decent lunch with the guys, since she probably wouldn’t sit down to eat until well after seven. It dawned on her that there was practically nothing to eat at either her house or Asher’s. She certainly didn’t intend to stop anywhere else tonight. Finding a pack of crackers would probably be the extent of her luck. She paused before the front door then noticed it was partially open.
She hesitated and stared at the door as a pang of concern swept through her. Jeannette was expecting her, and she had spoken to her only five minutes ago. Perhaps she’d left the door open for her. Still, Jacey had grown cautious over the last couple of months. She slowly pushed the door open and peered inside as she stood in the doorway. She stared into the elegant hallway then glanced up the broad staircase.
“Jeanette?”
There was no response. Of course, if Jeannette was in the kitchen, she may not hear someone at the door. It was a big house. Perhaps she should have rang the doorbell rather than call for her. As Jacey contemplated ringing the bell from where she stood in the open doorway, she heard a clunk from upstairs. She again looked at the stairs and felt slightly apprehensive. She wasn’t sure what she had heard and listened a moment while remaining frozen in the doorway. When she didn’t hear anything, she uncertainly approached the staircase and paused at the bottom. She stared up to the second floor and again listened.
“Jeanette?” she called a little louder.
There was still no response. Jacey cautiously walked up the stairs while remaining alert to any unusual sounds or movement. She hated that the incident at the museum three months ago had turned her into Asher’s paranoid clone. Jacey reached the top of the stairs and looked around. She saw a faint red tinging on the carpet at the top of the stairs. Without giving it a second thought, she headed down the hallway. Jacey felt uneasy walking around the woman’s house, even if she was technically invited. Every bedroom door along the second floor hallway was open, allowing light to filter into the otherwise unlit hallway. Jacey glanced into each room as she passed then paused before one of the partially shut doors. The doorjamb was freshly splintered. She wanted to investigate the unusual splintering, but she felt a pang in her stomach telling her to check the room first. She pushed the door open the rest of the way and peered inside. Her eyes were immediately drawn to someone lying on the floor beyond the bed. Although she only saw a woman’s bare legs, she knew it had to be Jeannette. Who else would it be?
“Jeanette!” she cried out and ran across the room toward the fallen woman.
Jacey stopped at the foot end of the bed near Jeannette’s feet and stared at her co-worker on the floor. Jeannette lie in an unnatural position with blood soaking through her once white blouse. Her eyes were open and transfixed on the ceiling, the horror still clearly on her face, and her mouth opened as if she had attempted to scream but was unable. Jacey stared frozen in terror at the dead woman. The stab wounds were clearly visible beneath the tears in her blood-soaked blouse. She’d been stabbed several times and the viciousness of the attack was evident by the deep wounds. Although Jacey only stood over the dead woman a few seconds, it felt much longer. She couldn’t get over how much blood covered the woman and how fresh it looked. Her mind reeled as she contemplated screaming or convincing her body to move for the bedside phone. Her mind then screamed at her, reminding her that she’d only spoken to Jeannette five minutes ago. Five minutes? Fresh blood? Did that mean--?
Jacey slowly turned her head and looked at the nearby, walk-in closet. Her heart was pounding as she stared at the partially open closet door. She needed to call the police! She needed to get the hell out of the bedroom! Somehow, she couldn’t convince her body to do either. She could hear Asher’s voice screaming in her head. He was telling her to run. She stared at the partially open closet door then turned and bolted for the bedroom door. She swore she saw the closet door move behind her, but she wasn’t about to stop or look back. Jacey ran from the room, thundered down the hallway as fast as her pumps would allow, and raced down the broad staircase, her shoes thumping loudly down every step. How she managed to keep from falling was a miracle. She wasn’t stopping to make a phone call to the police; she wasn’t looking back; she was just getting the hell out of the house. As she ran down the last few steps, she collided with a large, black blur. Before she could even scream, Jacey and the stranger were thrown to the floor together, his body nearly crushing hers.
She scrambled to her feet and got a good look at the man dressed in something resembling black combat gear and a black ninja mask. He reached for the discarded, shiny new hunting knife near his black gloved hand. Jacey kicked the knife from his reach, causing it to slide across the hardwood floor and into the study. The man jumped to his feet and faced her from only a few feet away. There was an odd, tense moment as the killer stared at her. Jacey knew she should run for the door, but despite the fear surging through her, she took a defensive fighting stance and locked eyes with the killer. She didn’t move and held her fist tight, prepared to strike the moment he moved. She was wearing a skirt and one-inch heels. How she expected to defeat a killer was beyond even her. To her surprise, the killer bolted for the door. Jacey stared after him with astonishment. She ran for the door, slammed it shut, and turned the bolt. She remained motionless a moment and then finally released her breath. Jacey then darted to the hall table and grabbed the phone.
Before she could dial 911, she heard the creaking of floorboards from the second floor, indicating someone was still upstairs. Jacey stared at the ceiling and swore she heard someone in the hallway. Jacey clutched the cordless phone and ran into the nearby study. She slammed the door behind her and locked it for good measure. With a trembling hand, she called the police. As the phone rang on the other end, she glanced across the study and saw the room had been ransacked with papers and objects carelessly thrown everywhere. Doyle’s expensive, gold pocket was resting on the edge of the desk undisturbed. That it had been left behind seemed odd.
†
The McMurray farmhouse, belonging to Jacey’s mot
her and stepfather, had been remodeled several years ago. The plantation style house had an amazing wraparound porch with hanging plants, rocking chairs, and the stereotypical porch swing near the front door. The large barn was fifty yards from the house and appeared picturesque against the setting sun. Wooden fences separated several paddocks attached to the barn and two main pastures of nearly ten acres each. Several horses grazed within the larger pastures. A black sedan was parked alongside Jacey’s jeep in front of the house. It was a little after seven o’clock and Jacey had only returned home a few minutes ago. Their local sheriff had detained Jacey at Jeannette’s house for nearly two hours while a crime lab came in and collected evidence. Needless to say, it was just as stressful for the country sheriff as it was for her.
Professor pulled up to the farm only a few minutes after Jacey had changed into a pair of old jeans and a tank top with a worn flannel top unbuttoned over top. Sheriff Monroe felt he should contact someone on Jacey’s behalf. Since her parents were gone, Asher was away at some last minute reunion, and Maxwell was in Denver until midnight, Professor was next on the sheriff’s list. Despite the horror of finding Jeannette murdered and running into the killer--literally, Jacey felt she was handling the situation fairly well, all things considered. Professor walked alongside Jacey toward the house from the barn, where he had helped her tend to a few chores. He was obviously worried about her, indicated by the way he stared with that look of sympathy on his face.
“I wish you’d reconsider and come to the museum to stay with us tonight,” Professor announced. “I’m concerned about you being here alone--” He hesitated and almost feared saying the words aloud. “--after what happened to Jeanette.”
Jacey collapsed on the porch step, held her head, and groaned softly. “Oh, poor Jeanette,” she muttered softly then looked at Professor. “I still can’t believe it. Who’d do something like that to her? Especially after what happened to her husband.” Jacey’s eyes suddenly widened with horror. “You don’t think they’re related, do you?”
“Their deaths? Related?” Professor vigorously shook his head. “No, her husband died at the hands of his mistress. That was a tragic murder suicide.” He hesitated then attempted to say something comforting. “She lived in a wealthy neighborhood,” Professor remarked and sat on the step near her, resting his back to the railing. “Sheriff Monroe is convinced the burglar thought no one was home, which she normally wouldn’t have been at home on a Monday afternoon. She must’ve surprised him.”
“I somehow think the coroner and homicide detective may have a different theory,” she remarked gently.
Professor appeared curious and studied her. “Oh?”
She inhaled a deep, shaken breath then slowly released it. “I saw the stab wounds on her, Professor,” Jacey announced softly. “Not to sound gruesome, but they were aggressive and angry. He didn’t kill her because she surprised him. He was pissed. Her study was trashed, but he left behind an expensive, gold pocket watch. That doesn’t sound like my idea of a burglar.”
Professor stared at her a moment then fidgeted from the comment. “Please, come back to the museum with me,” he now begged.
Jacey wiped the tears from her eyes, looked at Professor, and attempted a weak smile. “What did Maxwell say when you called him?”
He appeared uncomfortable, shifted, and then managed a smile. “He said to take you back to the museum and watch over you until he gets back tonight.”
“I thought so much,” she replied softly then smiled more naturally. “I’ll be fine, really.”
“Then I’ll stay here with you.”
Jacey stood, being unable to remain still for more than a few minutes, as if attempting to keep death from catching her. Naturally, her nerves were shot, but she felt she was handling the situation a lot braver than she thought possible. She didn’t need people treating her like china. She wasn’t going to break.
“Thanks, Professor,” she replied warmly. “You’re wonderful, but I think I’d prefer to be alone.” She inhaled deeply and almost slipped into her own thoughts. She pulled herself back into reality, not wanting to let herself go. She was certain she wouldn’t like what she found. “Besides, I still have to go to Asher’s and take care of his jungle.”
“Then I’ll go with you,” he insisted.
Jacey kissed him warmly on the cheek, touched his face, and smiled. “Right now, I need to be alone. I have a lot of thinking to do.”
Professor stared at her a long moment. He was obviously attempting to read her and possibly decide if he should be more insistent. Apparently, he thought better of it, offered a tiny, knowing smile, and nodded.
“I understand,” he finally replied. “Call me when you get back home, so I know you’re okay.”
Jacey couldn’t help but smile at the lanky man. His concern was endearing. She was lucky to have such a wonderful, caring friend.
Chapter Nine
Jacey rode her gray horse along a well-traveled path in the quickly dimming woods. The reality of finding Jeannette murdered had finally hit her. Normally, she wouldn’t take her horse out so late, especially through the woods to Asher’s house, which was a thirty-minute ride at a leisurely gait. Riding her horse was relaxing, and she needed relaxing right now. Returning home in the dark would be particularly foolish, especially since there was no such thing as cell phones in her neck of the woods. There also wasn’t anyone around if her horse wigged out and managed to toss her. She only had one incident where she had been thrown while riding, which involved her pony when she was a young teen. Coincidentally, it was the first time she was properly introduced to Konrad Asher, who later became her best friend. He dusted her off and helped her locate her missing pony. They were friends ever since.
The back side of Asher’s secluded, modern cabin with its large, privacy fence came into view. The elaborate fence appeared out of place in the seemingly remote part of the woods, but her friend was a very private man. Jacey tied her horse to an old hitching post outside the privacy fence and entered through the gate. Not far from the hitching post was a small, stall sized shed, which was obviously designed specifically for her horse if the weather turned bad. Jacey crossed the elaborate garden and headed for the back patio and the sunroom door.
The cozy sunroom was decorated with quality wicker furniture and hanging plants along the entire length of the glass wall. There were various other plants strategically placed around the room, giving the sunroom a jungle feel. Jacey began her chore of watering the many plants within the room. Once she finished with the plants in the sunroom, Jacey entered the master bedroom down the hall and watered a hanging plant by the large window. She then shut the curtain and crossed the room to leave. She glanced at the dresser, hesitated, and approached it. She looked at the silver framed photo of Asher’s deceased wife, Katie, wearing a gorgeous black evening dress. Jacey picked up the picture, studied the beautiful woman, and then smiled.
Jacey hoped that one day she’d find true love as Asher had with Katie. She often wondered if Katie knew how much she was loved. She was sure she did. When Katie was murdered ten years ago, it tore Asher apart. The town blamed him for her death and the old mental institution fire, which claimed many other lives. After the museum incident just three months ago, Asher was finally vindicated, although some in town still feared him. She hated that he secretly seemed to enjoy the fear he created. Jacey returned the picture to the dresser then turned to leave. A low creaking sound halted her departure, causing her to glance around the room.
The closet door was now partially open, catching her attention. She didn’t remember it being open when she entered the room. Perhaps she was just being paranoid after the incident at Jeannette’s house, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Jacey stared at the door a moment longer then slowly approached it and yanked it open. A large box, which was held in place by the door, toppled from the top shelf and nearly hit her. She screamed, jumped back as it crashed to the floor, and then relaxed. She knelt before the s
pilled contents and replaced them to the box. Among the items was a brown, leather shoulder holster containing a government issued semiautomatic, various photos, and a bulletproof vest with the name Asher embroidered on it in bold, white lettering.
With some effort, she returned the box to the top shelf then looked at a box on the floor. She appeared puzzled and pulled it out. She normally wasn’t one to pry in Asher’s business, but sometimes it was the only way to learn things about his past. He tended to be somewhat secretive. There were old newspaper articles on the Stony Ridge Mental Institute fire, articles on Kate Asher’s murder, and Asher’s suspected involvement. Jacey studied each article. On the bottom of the box, there was a manila envelope. She uncertainly opened the envelope. There were several letters banded together addressed to Konrad Asher. The first bundle was postmarked from ten years ago. They were labeled ‘death threats’. A second, smaller bundle was postmarked for the current year. It was labeled ‘death threats and blackmail’.
Jacey frowned and shook her head. She removed a more recent article from a few months ago. It read, ‘local legend becomes local hero’. She knew what the article said, since she was the one who wrote it. There was a picture of Konrad Asher on the front page looking arrogant just to piss off the locals. The caption read, ‘Konrad Asher risked his life to save several people from a killer’s murderous rampage at the museum party.’ Jacey stared at the article. She heard echoing voices from the past as she drifted back to three months ago.
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