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“Sure, I do. I’m as good a foxhole Christian as the next guy. But I don’t think God is managing my whole life. That’s what He gave us brains for.”
Julie Ann shook her head and faced him, her lips pressed into a thin line, her hands fisted on her hips. “Look, Mr. Burnett, I appreciate your concern, really I do, but if the Good Lord had not wanted me on this jury, I wouldn’t have been chosen. Period. End of discussion.”
She yanked open the courthouse door before Smith could do it for her and stomped in ahead of him. She’d had her fill of being told what to do by her overbearing father. She’d been making her own choices for a long time. Good choices. Sane choices.
Praise the Lord she hadn’t been right about Smith’s amorous interest in her in the past, she added, a bit surprised by the thought. He might have many sterling attributes but he was also the kind of stubborn, domineering man she’d never allow herself to become romantically involved with, no matter what.
Naturally, her Southern upbringing and the fact that Smith was a close friend of Ben’s precluded any behavior other than absolute politeness. That did not mean, however, that she was going to be all sugary and sweet to him from now on. The gall of the man, ordering her to use the vandalism as an excuse to back out of serving on the jury.
If anything, the holes in her shop window were all the more reason why she was intent on doing her sworn duty, even if Sherilyn wasn’t able to pull herself together and come back to work after their fright.
As she entered the courtroom and took her seat in the jury box, however, Julie Ann was already having second thoughts. No matter how hard she tried to reason away the attack, someone seemed to have it in for her. Someone right here in Serenity. And the first indication of that had come right after she’d been chosen for this jury.
By the end of the first day, three men and four women had been approved by both the prosecuting and defense attorneys, though Smith had not yet been interviewed. He left the courthouse in time to watch Julie Ann dart across the street and pause long enough to unlock the front door of her salon. Someone, probably Harlan, had stuck silver duct tape over the breaks in the window. It wasn’t pretty but it seemed an adequate temporary fix.
Hesitating, Smith removed his blazer and slung it over his shoulder by one finger while he tried to decide what to do next. That woman wasn’t rational about life in general and her vulnerability in particular. Still, what could he do? He supposed he could follow her home and try to keep an eye on her from a distance.
“And get myself arrested for stalking,” Smith muttered to himself, thoroughly disgusted. “Ben would laugh his head off.”
Nevertheless, he crossed the street and circled to the rear of the salon, expecting to catch Julie Ann leaving and at least caution her again when she locked up for the day. There was one fairly new, two-door compact car parked there on a gravel pad.
He stared. Circled the parked vehicle to check further. Then, he did the only logical thing, he banged on the back door of the beauty salon with his fist.
When Julie Ann responded, he merely stepped out of the way and gestured toward the car.
She burst through the door like a shot. “My car! What happened?”
“Beats me.” Smith stood back, frowning. “Looks like somebody flattened all your tires. Has this ever happened before?”
“No. Never. They were fine when I used this door earlier. At least I think they were.” She stared at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I was planning to talk some sense into you and then make sure you got home safely.”
“Why?”
“It just seemed like the right thing to do.” He wasn’t about to admit he’d begun hanging around her more as a favor to her brother and fellow Marine than because he’d actually wanted to. This task had long since progressed past that. It was his duty to look after Julie Ann. That was all there was to it.
“I’ll wait right here. Go call Harlan again,” Smith said.
To his relief, she ducked back inside and quickly re-emerged carrying a portable phone. Smith listened as she did what he’d suggested, then hung up.
“The sheriff says he’ll be right over,” Julie Ann told him with a sigh and shake of her head as she stared at the damage. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
“Neither can I.” He paused, thoughtful. “I wonder if Harlan has had any other odd reports since the jury selection began.”
“I’d thought of that possible connection, too. Do you suppose this is all happening because of the trial?”
“It’s the only thing I can think of that’s changed in the past twenty-four hours.”
“I hope you’re wrong.”
Smith nodded sagely. “I hope so, too.” He looked up as the sheriff’s black-and-white vehicle cruised slowly into the alley and stopped next to Julie Ann’s car.
As Harlan got out and hitched up his gun belt, Smith decided that the portly man looked more serious than he had after they’d turned up no suspects from the first call.
The sheriff circled the vandalized car, then used his radio to request a tow truck before addressing Julie Ann.
“I’m sorry, Miz Julie,” Harlan said. “I’ll need to take your car in and get it looked at. I think the tires are okay but I’m hoping the perpetrator left fingerprints when he messed with ’em. It’s worth a closer look.” He glanced at Smith. “Will you be able to see the lady home or shall I have my deputy, Boyd, do it?”
“I’ll give her a lift,” Smith said before Julie Ann had time to object.
“Good.” Harlan looked from one to the other, settling his sober gaze on Julie Ann. “I want you to be real careful, ma’am. I’d feel a lot better if you wasn’t alone too much, if you get my drift.”
“I live alone, Sheriff,” she countered. “And I like it that way. Thank you for your concern but I can look after myself. I’ll be fine.”
Smith wasn’t anywhere near satisfied. “Okay, Harlan. What else is bothering you?”
“Besides the shooter at lunchtime you mean?” He sighed noisily, seeming reluctant to go on. Finally he said, “There was an accident up on Route 9 a little while ago. The steering failed on Estelle Finnerty’s car and she plowed into a ditch. She’s okay but she was pretty shaken up.”
Julie Ann gasped. “Estelle was chosen for Lester’s jury today—just like me.”
“That looks an awful lot like a pattern to me,” Smith said, taking note of Julie Ann’s worried look. Now that Harlan had confirmed their suspicions that jurors were being targeted, she’d have to inform the judge.
His fists clenched. If logic didn’t get through that thick skull of hers pretty soon, he didn’t know what he’d do, but somebody had to do something.
She must have seen the change in his expression because her eyes narrowed. “What?”
“It’s like this,” Smith said. “There’s a fair chance that somebody is trying to frighten jurors—or worse—and you need to take that threat more seriously than you have been so far.”
“I’m supposed to be scared of flat tires?”
“No. You’re supposed to be worried about bullet holes. Watch yourself like the sheriff says. Go stay with a friend till he can catch whoever’s behind all this.”
“I’ll do nothing of the kind.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Smith said. “In that case, you’d better get used to me or Harlan or Boyd being parked outside your house all night.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t sleep in your car.”
“I will if you force me to.”
“And you call me stubborn.”
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Smith’s neck began to prickle. He tensed, quickly scanning the area. There was no one visible except Harlan and Julie Ann, but still…
His gaze met hers. “You feel it, too, don’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted, although she folded her arms across her chest as if she were chilly in spite of the warm temperature.
“I think we’re being watched,” Smith said.
Harlan reacted immediately. “Both of you get in my car and wait while I lock up for Miz Julie Ann. I’ll order a drive-by patrol for here and for her house.”
Smith helped Julie Ann into the front seat of the sheriff’s car. He’d started to close the door when movement on the shop’s roof caught his eye. It was just a fleeting shadow, yet it impressed him as being the size and shape of a grown man. A potential sniper. Just like the ones he’d encountered so often in battle.
Glare from the setting sun over the top of the block building made Smith’s eyes water as he shaded them and tried to make out more details.
He had almost convinced himself that his imagination was working too hard until he looked at Julie Ann. Her hazel eyes were wide, her expression revealing. She was clearly afraid. And she was no longer trying to hide or deny it.
For the first time since she’d inherited the old, isolated farm, Julie Ann wasn’t happy to be coming home. The pastures which lay to the sides and back of her white-painted frame house seemed too wide and desolate. And the forest of oak, hickory and cedar flanking them was filled with dark, forbidding shadows. If she felt this uneasy in daylight, how was she going to feel once the sun set?
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come in and check the house for you?” Smith asked as he pulled into the circular, gravel driveway and stopped. “I don’t mind.”
Julie Ann almost said yes before she gritted her teeth and shook her head. She was not going to give in to irrational fear. And she certainly was not going to let Smith think she needed babysitting.
“No, thanks. That won’t be necessary,” she told him. “I have an enormous dog inside. He’s very protective. If anybody gets past my Andy, they belong here.”
Smith started to get out just the same, so she insisted. “I said, I’ll be fine.”
Though he didn’t look convinced, he did back off. “Okay. I’ll watch till I see that you’re safely inside. And lock the door.”
Satisfied that that was as good as the situation was likely to get, she climbed out of the SUV and paused for a moment, hoping her shaking knees weren’t going to give her away. “Okay. Thanks for the ride.”
“You’re quite welcome. I still wish you’d let me…”
Dismissing Smith with a shake of her head, she reached the porch quickly and without faltering. The instant she opened the door and was greeted by her dogs, she relaxed. Thank goodness she was a sucker for sad eyes, cold noses and floppy ears.
Julie Ann turned in the doorway and waved, waiting till Smith had driven off to close the door. Both her dogs had apparently sensed her unusual anxiety because they were acting apprehensive, each in its own way.
Big, stalwart Andy, the black Labrador-Shepherd crossbreed, stationed himself right inside the front door. Bubbles, a nondescript, dusty-colored mop of dog hair with an attitude, ran loops through the house before leaping and landing next to Julie Ann when she plopped onto the couch.
She ruffled the dog’s wiry hair. “I’m glad to see you, too, girl.”
Panting and looking very pleased with herself, Bubbles wiggled in response to her master’s voice, wagging the entire rear half of her stubby little body.
Julie Ann sighed. “I wish you could talk. Then again, maybe it’s just as well you can’t. I’ve had plenty of unasked-for advice already today.”
Picturing Smith Burnett’s handsome face, she felt comforted yet penitent for being so gruff with him when she knew he was merely trying to help. The fact that he had volunteered to stand guard all night, if need be, made her feel better even though she had sent him away. Any possible source of tranquility was nice to ponder, especially given the kind of day she’d had.
Bubbles jumped down, circled the sofa at a run and bunched a throw rug into a pile when she cut a sharp corner in and out of the archway leading to the country kitchen.
“I know. You’re hungry. Come on. Let’s go see what we can find for you to eat.”
Julie Ann rose and started to cross the small living room. She sensed Andy’s bulk at her side before she reached the tiled kitchen floor and heard the click of his nails on the vinyl. He seemed to be mirroring her restless mood a lot more than the other dog. She didn’t mind one bit. The closer he crowded, the better she liked it.
She laid her hand atop his broad, dark head and petted him without having to bend down. “Yes, you too, you big lummox. What would I do without my furry buddies?”
Andy’s cold nose nudged her hand in response to the loving tone. Julie Ann knew her dogs couldn’t understand every word but she also knew they weren’t totally clueless.
Picking up their food dishes, she mixed softer food into hard kibble, then set both dishes on the floor the way she always did.
Bubbles immediately dug in. Andy, however, approached his dish as if he were expecting the food to bite him back.
“It’s okay, boy. Go ahead. Eat.”
Still, the big, black dog refused. He tensed. The hackles on his back rose and Julie Ann heard a throaty growl begin to rumble deep in his chest. Bubbles was impressed enough to pause and glance at him but only for a moment.
Heart racing, Julie Ann scanned the kitchen. Nothing looked out of place. “What is it? What’s the matter, Andy?”
The dog was staring at the back door the way a hungry wolf eyed a juicy meal. Had she locked that door? Of course not. She didn’t usually bother with such silly precautions. Nothing had ever happened in Serenity to make her fearful or to cause her to change her habits. Until today.
Andy’s low, menacing growl continued. Julie Ann thought she saw the doorknob turn. She froze. Her breath caught and she held it, hoping, praying that her overactive imagination was responsible.
No. The knob actually was turning. What now? What should she do? If she ran to the door, would she have time to throw the dead bolt? And even if she accomplished that, would it be enough deterrent, or would it merely make her prowler mad and cause him to force his way inside?
Time stood still. Julie Ann’s whole body was trembling. So was Andy’s. What began as another growl ended as a deep, warning bark. The movement of the knob ceased.
That was enough incentive for Julie Ann. She lunged toward the door.
Andy, barking louder in response to her affirmative actions, was right beside her. Even Bubbles finally joined in with rapid yaps and frantic, scrambling dashes back and forth across the slick kitchen floor.
Julie Ann put out her hand. Grabbed the dead bolt. Twisted it locked.
Just then, the doorknob quivered and made a half turn. Julie Ann knew she’d locked the door just in time because if she had not acted, whoever was outside would now be standing in her kitchen, facing her.
By this time, Andy was in full attack mode. Barking and growling, he hit the wooden door with his front feet, making the whole thing shake.
Julie Ann didn’t try to stop or restrain the dog. She wanted her prowler to be good and scared, hopefully enough that he’d go away or at least answer when she shouted, “Who’s there?”
All noise and movement suddenly ceased. Andy cocked his head. His ears lifted. Then, he suddenly wheeled and raced back to the living room with Bubbles in scatterbrained, halfhearted pursuit.
By the time Julie Ann realized the new avenue of threat, her protective dog was already barking at the front door, once again ready to defend her.
Smith had told her to lock that door. Had she? She didn’t remember. And now Andy was clearly warning her. How long would it take a person to circle her house and reach the front porch? Longer than it took her to go directly there from the kitchen, she reasoned. But not that much longer.
With trembling hands and a shaky grip, she engaged the locking mechanism on that door, then proceeded to the windows that were the easiest to access from the porch and secured them, as well.
She hadn’t actually spotted anyone prowling outside but they were there just the same. She felt it. And once the sun set, she wouldn’t be able to see any farther than the circles of illumination cast by her porch lights.
Andy stayed close beside her every step of the way, often so near that she had to nudge him aside to reach the windows.
“What’s this world coming to when a person has to lock everything just to feel safe?” she muttered.
Andy’s only response was to nuzzle her hand.
She paused just long enough to give him another pat, then finished with the windows that sat higher off the ground than a man could normally reach. If her prowler had a ladder and tried to open one of those, he’d be thwarted then, too.
The whole scenario was beginning to make her angry. How dare anyone try to get into her home? How dare they frighten her this way? She didn’t deserve to have her salon window broken or her tires flattened, and she certainly wasn’t going to allow herself to become a further victim. Not if she could help it.
