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Driving back on his normal patrol route through the lunch break traffic, he wondered where the new librarian went to church. Or whether she went to church. If she didn’t, he had one more reason not to consider seeing her socially after this case was closed.
He knew from experience that a relationship where faith wasn’t shared would only lead him astray. Back in high school, he’d been more optimistic. Lorene had been so vulnerable, so sweetly tempting that he’d ignored everything he’d ever been taught. She’d ended up breaking his heart, and he had no guarantee “Lorie” Loretta Narramore was any different from “Lorie” Lorene O’Hara.
Nope. He had to keep his head on straight and his heart under control. There was no way he was allowing another attractive Lorie to get under his skin and wreck his good judgment. The first one had nearly ruined his life.
The radio crackled. “Unit 5, there’s a fender bender on Highway 21. What’s your location?”
Matt grabbed the mike and keyed it. “Dispatch, I’m eastbound on Hackberry approaching the intersection of Van Buren.”
Another burst of static... “Paramedics are already at the scene, but we need you for crowd control.”
“On my way.”
Matt switched on the lights and siren and was at the scene in less than three minutes. Setting up orange traffic cones and diverting cars to an alternate route helped to get his mind off the librarian. He managed not to think of her for at least ten minutes, until the paramedic van took off for Lucius Dainger Memorial Hospital in nearby West Bluff.
As he put the stacked cones back into the trunk, another memory of Lorie Narramore drifted up from his memory. She’d been in the Diamondback Marching Band, playing the glockenspiel on the edge of the gridiron, when a tackle had tumbled him into the band. He’d ended up knocking her over and helping her up. Her glasses had rendered her light brown eyes enormous. Hmm. She wasn’t wearing glasses these days, but her eyes were still amazing.
What was it about Lorie Narramore? He wasn’t the kind of bachelor who was drawn to every attractive female in sight. Especially one who by her own admission had shot and killed a man. It wasn’t damsel-in-distress syndrome, either. He had the impression she could handle herself in a tricky situation. So why exactly was he having trouble concentrating on work?
Maybe it was because someone had threatened the librarian. Once he ran the prints, maybe he could match them up with someone in AFIS and this case would be over.
Unfortunately, when he got back to the station, the prints from the office were not in AFIS. Lorie’s prints, however, brought up a large file.
Her mug shot looked strained rather than fearful or defiant. Huge purple shadows bordered her eyes. Her mouth was drawn.
The case had been through the San Diego County courts last year and had made quite a splash. Matt was surprised that it hadn’t made the local news, but if it had, he’d missed it.
Grayson Carl, the man Lorie had shot, was a suspected drug lord, with ties to a network in Colombia and Panama. If she’d been sent to prison, the Orgulloso cartel would have had her assassinated before the year was out. Could they have been the ones behind the harassment in San Diego—and today’s note?
Threatening notes and phone calls seemed a bit mild for them. Drive-by shootings were more their style.
The file was too long to absorb in one sitting. Matt sent it to the printer, including the court transcripts, to read at home.
“Working late, Mac?”
Matt looked up from his computer to see the sheriff’s broad frame filling the doorway.
“A little. Getting some homework on that case your wife sent me on this morning.” The laser printer spat out pages at breakneck speed. “What do you know about Lorie Narramore at the county library?”
Frank’s sandy eyebrows rose. “I looked over your report. On the surface, the note doesn’t sound like much, but, given her background, I don’t like it. I was hoping she’d left her troubles in San Diego.”
“Do you really see an international cartel coming after someone in our little county, Frank?”
“I wish I could say no and mean it.” The sheriff ambled into Matt’s tiny office and plunked down in the blue upholstered visitor’s chair. “The way things have been going lately on the illegal-drug front, I’m not so sure.”
Matt leaned on his desk. “I’m not going to find anything in here about Ms. Narramore that I won’t like, will I?”
“Depends on what you don’t like.”
Matt wasn’t happy with the answer, but knew Frank wouldn’t say any more until Matt had had a chance to read through the file and come to his own conclusions. But what would he find? True, she’d been acquitted, but the nagging question remained.
If she’d truly been innocent, why had she ever been tried for murder?
THREE (#ulink_290cd61d-9d88-51f4-9b24-37bb36efa2b4)
Just as Lorie was about to depart for the day, her desk phone jangled.
“Leave it, why don’t you?” Jen slung her purse over her shoulder and held out Lorie’s. “You know it’s past closing time.”
“It might be Mom. Her church is getting ready for Vacation Bible School, and she has some idea I can help.”
“Why wouldn’t she call your cell phone?”
Lorie shrugged. “I’d better get it.” She lifted the receiver. “Dainger County Library, Lorie Narramore speaking.” Mom’s cheery voice would pipe up any second.
A slight hissing was the only indication anyone was on the other end of the line.
“Hel-lo, Dainger County Library.”
Lorie’s repeated greeting brought no response. “Is anybody there?”
Jen made “hang it up” gestures with her free hand.
She’d give it five more seconds. “Five, four, thr—”
“Murderer.”
Lorie froze. “What did—”
“Murrr-dererrrrr.” The whisper was hoarse, drawn-out.
Not again!
Lorie slammed the receiver into the cradle. Her heart thundered against her ribs.
“What’s wrong?”
Lorie shook her head, unable to speak.
Jen’s eyes grew huge. “It wasn’t Matt with bad news about the fingerprinting, was it?”
Lorie’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Shaking her head, Lorie shivered.
“Okay, that settles it. You’ve coming home with me for supper.”
“But—”
“No arguments.” Jen shoved Lorie’s purse at her until she took it. “It’s just takeout from Old West Pizza, but you don’t need to be alone.”
The phone’s ring shattered the stillness. They stared at it. Another two rings would take it to voice mail.
Jen’s hand reached out before Lorie could stop her.
“Dainger County Library, this is Jen. How can I help you?”
A split second later she held out the receiver so Lorie could hear the dial tone.
Shuddering, Lorie clutched her purse to her chest. “You’re right. I don’t need to be alone.”
* * *
Matt drove back to the Dainger County Library when his shift was over but one glance at the parking lot told him he’d already missed her. He’d forgotten; that was right. The library was open late only on Fridays.
He pulled the pickup into the empty parking lot and phoned J. T. Burkhalter. The voice of the family’s four-year-old answered.
“Bookhawtew wesidence.”
“Hi, Bobby. Put your daddy on, please.”
“Okay. DAD-DEE! TEWEPHONE!”
Matt jerked the cell phone away from his ear at the first bellow, so he wasn’t totally deafened when J.T. picked up.
“Hey J.T., it’s Matt.”
“What’s up, bro?”
“Something strange happened at the library today. I wondered if Jen had mentioned it.”
J.T. chuckled. “You mean the ‘Puzzle of the Purloined Poison Pen?’ She did bring up the subject a time or twelve.”
“Could I swing by and ask her a few questions?”
“Sure. Come for supper. Jen brought home pizza.”
Matt smiled. He hadn’t been angling for an invitation, but pizza sounded good.
“I’ll see you then.”
Five minutes later, Jen opened the door when Matt arrived. “Come on in before it gets cold.”
Matt keyed the automatic lock on his red F-150 SuperCrew and walked into the organized chaos that was the Burkhalter house. Bobby immediately tackle-hugged him around the knees.
“Unca Matt!”
“Hey, Uncle Matt’s here!” Not to be left out, eight-year-old Kevin raced toward his honorary uncle, holding out his latest freebie from the fast-food kiddie meal.
“Ooh, scary dinosaur!”
His comment earned Matt an instant grin from Kevin, who growled and waved the green plastic tyrannosaurus in Matt’s face.
Chrissy typed something on her phone, giggled and put it into her pocket before waving at Matt.
“New boyfriend?”
Chrissy shook her head. “Oh, no, Uncle Matt.”
“Good. You’re too young to date.”
Chrissy giggled again. It was such a normal sound. How old was she now? Matt had lost track.
“I’m thirteen. All my friends are dating.” Her phone buzzed again, and she snatched it out of her pocket to check the latest text.
“All the more reason.” Matt thought of himself at thirteen, a mass of pimples and hormones. He shuddered. He was so thankful he didn’t have kids. He wasn’t sure he could take the stress.
“Jen, where do you keep the soda glasses?”
Matt started. Lorie Narramore was here? Alarm bells clanged in his brain. He whirled to face Jen.
“Upper cupboard over the counter next to the refrigerator.” Jen rolled her eyes at Matt. “Turn off that expression, Deputy. I invited Lorie before J.T. asked you over, so you can stick your suspicion right back in your detective kit.”
Lorie emerged from the kitchen carrying two glasses in each hand.
“Chrissy, put the phone away and help Lorie.”
Chrissy barely missed colliding with Matt on her way to help. She snatched the glasses from Lorie just as Lorie spotted Matt. Good thing. It looked as though she’d have dropped them if Chrissy hadn’t intervened.
“Deputy? Why are you—did Jen phone you?” Lorie still looked alarmed. Had the note been that disturbing?
Matt put a smile on his face.
“Nope. Just called to catch up with J.T., and he invited me for supper.” Noticing that Lorie’s expression hadn’t changed, his trouble radar kicked in. “Why? Has something else happened?”
Before Lorie could answer, Jen called the rest of the family to the table. J.T. brought the two Old West Pizza family-size to-go boxes from the kitchen and set them in the middle as the thundering herd of children took their places.
“I want to sit by Miss Lowie!” Bobby announced.
In the table shuffling that followed, Matt ended up on Lorie’s other side. J.T. held out his hands to Bobby and Kevin, who were seated next to him. The prayer circle quickly formed around the table. Lorie’s hand was soft but firm. Matt wondered if she still played an instrument. He ignored the warmth that traveled up his arm at the contact.
“Lord, thank You for the guests You’ve brought us, and thank You for keeping us all safe today. Please bless this food and our fellowship, in Jesus’s name. Amen.”
A round of hearty “Amens” preceded an immediate scramble for pizza slices. Matt felt a gentle tug and realized he hadn’t let go of Lorie’s hand.
“Oh. Sorry.” He released her.
“No problem.” Lorie concentrated on the slice of pizza in front of her, effectively cutting off conversation.
The Burkhalter children chattered about upcoming church camp and dozens of other subjects. Matt could barely keep up. He did keep a surreptitious eye on Lorie, noticing as color slowly returned to her fine cheekbones.
