In His Sights

“I really did scare you, didn’t I?”

Edgar asked, wrapping an arm around her. “Your heart is beating like crazy.”

Dee pushed herself away from him as she inhaled the scent of his spicy aftershave. “I’ve just been…” She couldn’t tell him she’d been reading about him. Let alone daydreaming about working together.

“You were just what?” He studied her intently. “Are you sure you’re okay, Dee?”

She tried to shake it off. Between the phone call she’d received and feeling that someone had followed her into the library…and thinking about Edgar, there were plenty of things to be shaken up about.

REUNION REVELATIONS: Secrets surface when old friends—and foes—get together.

Hidden in the Wall—Valerie Hansen (LIS#84) January 2008

Missing Persons—Shirlee McCoy (LIS#88) February 2008

Don’t Look Back—Margaret Daley (LIS#92) March 2008

In His Sights—Carol Steward (LIS#96) April 2008

A Face in the Shadows—Lenora Worth (LIS#100) May 2008

Final Justice—Marta Perry (LIS#104) June 2008

CAROL STEWARD

To Carol Steward, selling a book is much like riding a roller coaster—every step of the process, every sale brings that exhilarating high. During the less exciting times, she’s busy gathering ideas and refilling her cup. Writing brings a much-needed balance to her life, as she has her characters share lessons she has learned, as well.

When she’s not working at the University of Northern Colorado, you can usually find her spending time with her husband of over thirty years, writing and thanking God she survived raising her own three children to reap His rewards of playing with her adorable grandchildren.

Throughout all the different seasons of life, God has continued to teach Carol to turn to Him. She has also learned to simplify her life and appreciate her many blessings—His gift of creativity, sharing her love for God with readers and setting an example of what God can do when we say, “Yes, God, take me, shape me, use me.” To find out more about Carol’s slightly crazy life and her books, visit her Web site at www.carolsteward.com.

In His Sights

Carol Steward

MILLS & BOON

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Special thanks and acknowledgment are given

to Carol Steward for her contribution to the

REUNION REVELATIONS miniseries.

Jesus said, “I have told you these things, so that in

me you may have peace. In this world you will have

trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

—John 16:33

To Val, Shirlee, Margaret, Lenora and Marty,

my coconspirators—my light in the shadows.

You’re the greatest!

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

Something had to be wrong. The caller ID showed her sister’s number, and Lauren knew not to call her at work.

“Deandra Owens, how may I help you?” she answered out of habit. “Sorry, Lauren. What’s up?”

“It’s happening again, Dee. There’s another warning on the Web site.”

Dee hadn’t heard Lauren this frantic in weeks.

“Log on the site, now,” her sister demanded. “Hurry!”

Dee swung her chair to the computer and moved her mouse to pull up the site. “Magnolia Falls: Where Are They Now?” scrolled to the top of the computer monitor and the photograph from the reunion began to load. “Where?”

“Someone put a picture of the group at the reunion on there,” Lauren said.

“I did,” Dee said with a sigh of relief.

“Yes, on the home page, but, it’s in the blog now—with flames burning over it.”

“You can’t be serious!” Her mind raced to the angry posts they’d received in the guest book. Dee stared as the blog loaded, her pulse racing. She scrolled through the comments, then came to the digitally altered photo posted by Anonymous and gasped. “Who would do this?”

“The police never even figured out who sent that entry last month.”

Dee looked for some clue, ignoring her sister.

“The one telling us that someone on campus isn’t who they seem to be.”

“Yes, I remember,” Dee said. “I’m—”

The fear in Lauren’s voice returned. “We have to do something.”

The police hadn’t given the Web site much attention, claiming pranks and inappropriate postings were pretty common on any public site. Dee stared at the photo in disbelief. Who would have such anger toward those at the reunion?

“Dee…”

“Where are you, Lauren?”

“I’m at Seth’s with Jake. Seth has a late appointment today.”

Lauren had had enough scares in the recent months. Dee didn’t want to see it start all over again. “Stay put and lock the doors.” Dee looked up to see, Edgar Ortiz, the assistant director of admissions in her doorway, pointing at his watch. “Thanks for calling. I’ll call you back after the press conference.”

“Dee, you ready?” The handsome Brazilian made her heart flutter, even when she wasn’t under stress.

“Just a minute, Edgar. I need to fix a little problem right away.” Her hands were shaking.

He stepped to her side. “Can I help?”

“No, thanks, it’ll just take a minute.”

“We’re in a hurry. The police need a minute to prep you.” He leaned closer, making her nerves that much worse.

“I’ll be right there, just hold them off for a minute. You know, work your charm.”

He cleared his throat and headed for the door. “You’re the charmer. That is why we hired you.”

Dee highlighted the name of the picture and all of the Java script that went with it, then read the options she had for removing the data from the blog: “Remove Locally” or “Remove locally and from server.” She tried to reason out which would keep it so the police could trace it. One option would keep it on her computer, but remove it from the site. The other would remove it from everywhere. Dee moved the mouse to “Remove Locally” and thought it through again before clicking the button.

“Dee, come on.” Edgar paused as he stepped through the door, his voice full of annoyance.

She jumped and with one slip of the wrist, she hit the wrong button and everything was gone.

Edgar leveled her a stare and she felt the emptiness in the pit of her stomach. Temporary or not, every day they were together they always seemed to be needling each other.

She picked up her notes and rushed out the door after him. “Someone’s posting harassing messages on the Web site again, and thanks to you, I just lost the evidence.”

“Yes, I saw the flaming picture. I was going to talk to you about it after the press conference. Maybe it’s time you just give up on the Web site.” He waited for her to walk beside him, then pushed a stray hair from her face.

How could he be so cavalier about it? “You’re one of the people in the picture, Edgar. We don’t know who they’re targeting.” She never went into a press conference so distracted.

“Miss Owens, we need you to read this release also,” Detective Jim Anderson said as he handed her a sheet of paper.

Dee read it, then glanced through the doorway to the members of the press watching her every reaction. “In here please.” She walked into the empty office and turned to Detective Anderson. “You’ve had this information for weeks, since Cassie Winters planted the memorial garden. Why haven’t you said something sooner?”

“We’ve run out of leads with what we had. We’re hoping that we can flush out the person if he or she thinks we have more information to go on,” the detective responded.

Dee struggled to regain her composure as she watched Edgar walk to the back of the room with the other college administrators.

She loved Magnolia College. She had to make that come across, above all else.

Look pleasant.

Professional. She forced a smile and realized it was overdone. She couldn’t look happy, sharing terrible news like this.

She didn’t want to look disrespectful.

She took a deep breath to steady herself before facing the cameras. With a serious smile on her face, she gazed past the reporters and cameras to Edgar.

This was about the college they both loved.

People they cared about.

Edgar had been dead set on getting her position as a PR specialist soon after the construction crew had uncovered a woman’s skeleton on campus. Yet in less than six months, they’d had three huge scandals that rocked the community’s foundation, and would likely hurt enrollment if they didn’t do some damage control immediately. Edgar—and his boss—weren’t happy with the rash of negative publicity. That was perfectly clear.

“The faculty and staff at Magnolia College are shocked by recent events involving our tight-knit community.” She took a quick breath for strength. “We are deeply saddened by the shooting of three individuals with ties to Magnolia College. The three were following leads in the death of talented alumnus, Scott Winters. Scott graduated two-and-a-half years ago with his bachelor’s degree in Journalism and went on to write for the Savannah Herald. The victims are identified as Scott’s sister, Cassie Winters, Professor Jameson King, and former teammate of Scott’s, Kevin Reed. All three have been treated and released from the hospital.

“The police have made two arrests in connection with the shootings, which took place at the old sugar mill in Riverton. Both are being held in the city jail and will undergo questioning in relation to an alleged point-shaving scheme, as well as the murder of Scott Winters.”

Dee paused, waiting for the lump in her throat to dissipate. She fought to get the image of Scott’s sister out of her head. I can’t think of Cassie or I’ll never get through this.

Dee could see the administrators cringe, those whose faces didn’t look like they were carved from stone. Her stomach churned. “The Magnolia Falls Police Department expect to reveal at least one more suspect soon.” Hands immediately raised, but Dee knew what they wanted. “I’m sorry, we will not be revealing the suspects’ names at this time.”

She pulled out the prepared statement given to her by the police chief and noticed her hands shaking. She took a deep breath. “The staff at Magnolia College is cooperating fully with authorities. We ask the public to respect the school’s responsibility to protect the privacy of every member of our staff and student population. Progress is being made on both the recovered skeleton and the point-shaving cases, but we would like to remind the community that these are ongoing investigations, and the details must be kept confidential in order not to compromise the integrity of the investigations.”

Dee cleared her throat and took a sip of water. “The police chief has asked me to update the public on evidence found in relation to the unidentified woman’s skeleton. A charm, found during the planting of the Scott Winters Memorial Garden, is now believed to be key evidence. Crime-scene investigators have determined a set of initials on the charm and believe it will open up new leads. If you have information related to any of these cases, you are asked to contact the Magnolia Falls Police Department directly.

“Magnolia College will continue to provide our students with an excellent education and will maintain a normal schedule. Thank you.”

Television stations from all over the region had come to cover these events, and the room was filled to capacity. Dee shifted behind the podium and pointed to a reporter who refused to be ignored.

The young man looked to be about Scott Winters’s age. “Miss Owens, what is being done to ensure student safety?”

“I will point out that Magnolia College has the second lowest crime rate in the region. We have not seen any increase in crime on campus since the skeleton was found. However, we are taking every precaution possible. In addition to seminars on personal safety, new emergency phones have been installed along the inner-campus walkways, and patrols have increased. The college did go through a major security upgrade just two years ago.”

She glanced to the back of the room and saw Edgar leaving before the press conference was finished. While she couldn’t help but feel she’d let him down, she was also furious. He’d touted her as the “Queen of Spin” when it came to recovering from bad publicity. But what did he expect after a second murder connected to Magnolia College?

Dee regained her composure and continued. “The upgrade included key cards for external entrances to every dorm and building holding evening classes. Security cameras are in place in many undisclosed locations. The college is in the top ten on safety studies. The board of trustees is gathering information on whether further changes need to be made.”

Hands shot up, and Dee nodded to another reporter. “I’ve heard rumors that some Magnolia College staff are involved in the point-shaving scheme. Are they going to be fired?” she asked.

Another reporter stood up. “What about the coaching staff? To what extent is Coach Nelson involved?”

Dee held up one hand until the room quieted, regaining control. “One question at a time, please. Chairman J. T. Kessler has called for a special session of the board of trustees this week to discuss possible disciplinary action for any involved faculty and coaching personnel. Until then, no further details will be released.”

As she answered each question, her mind drifted back to Edgar. Though he had been forced to reduce their recruitment team, the two of them were working hard. She had thought they were becoming close, and she realized, with disappointment, how much his approval meant to her.

What more did he expect of her?

TWO

“I told you to stop calling. In case you missed it, I have enough problems without…” The deep voice growled.

“And I thought you were going to scare Dee Owens off. We can’t have her sticking her nose into the investigation!”

“You’re getting paranoid…”

“Well, now, that’s like the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?” There was an awkward silence, filled with tension as one waited for the other to continue. “I need more money. If you aren’t going to get rid of Dee, I’ll have to find someone else to do it.”

“Dee Owens doesn’t know anything more than what the cops tell her. Quit worrying. I’m keeping tabs on her—and that ridiculous Web site. Just lay low! Stop sending e-mails. If I were you, I’d get out of the country while you can.”

“I would if I could, believe me. If I could count on you to clean up this mess once and for all, that is. Dee may not know anything yet. All she needs is another chance to dig deeper. Get rid of her. Now!”

THREE

Dee and her friend Steff Kessler, director of alumni relations, spent the afternoon brainstorming ideas to counteract the scandals. They figured out a way to pull a list of distinguished alumni from the college database and they drafted a letter requesting alumni get involved. Dee hadn’t been this encouraged in weeks. Excited to move forward with the campaign as soon as possible, she left a message for Edgar.

She tidied her desk after Steff headed back to her office in the library. Dee reviewed her notes, jotting additional suggestions in the margins as she waited for Edgar to return her call. At a little after five o’clock, she decided Edgar wasn’t going to call. Dee placed the drafted letter into her briefcase.

As soon as Dee closed her office door the phone rang. She hurried back inside, dropped the purse back into the chair and lifted the receiver, hoping it was Edgar returning her call. “Deandra Owens, how can I—”

The caller interrupted Dee. Static mingled with hushed words. “Miss Owens, you must help—” the woman said before her Southern accented voice cut out.

“What?” Dee waited a few seconds then tried to get the caller’s attention. “Hello?”

“Those…on the reunion Web site—” The caller was interrupted by yelling and commotion on her end.

Dee could hear doors slamming, then more static. “Hello?” She considered hanging up but couldn’t. Two words had her hooked—Web site. How could anyone know she’d just taken over as Webmaster? “Hello, are you there?” She looked down at the caller ID, which read “unknown number.”

“Just a moment, please,” the caller whispered, “Mother and Father don’t want me calling, but something is wrong.”

“Who is this? Are you okay?” Dee heard the squeak of metal on metal. “Hello? What’s your—”

She heard someone in another room yelling, but couldn’t tell what was said.

“Miss Owens,” the caller whispered, “you must find out who is pretending to be Josie.”

“Pretending? What makes you think—”

The caller was gone.

Dee stared at the phone, willing it to ring again. Surely the caller would phone back. She had to. Dee needed more information.

Josie? Racking her brain, Dee recalled a girl in her dorm with the name Josie. What was her last name? Were there other Josies at Magnolia College ten years ago?

There was something familiar about the caller’s voice. Logically speaking, it could be any well-bred Southern woman, but Dee couldn’t shake the feeling that they knew each other.

She waited a few moments, hoping the mystery woman would call again. When it was clear that wasn’t going to happen, Dee logged into the Web site and reread all of the posts. The only Josie to leave a message hadn’t given a last name. Dee had assumed at the time it was from the Josie she remembered, but maybe there had been another Josie enrolled at Magnolia College. The post said Josie had taken a whirlwind tour of Europe after graduation and mentioned a daughter. But why would someone pretend to be someone else on a college reunion Web site? And why was this caller so sure it wasn’t the real Josie? Maybe it was simply a case of mistaken identity.

While she was logged on, Dee searched the Web site, wondering how the caller had gotten her contact information. Unless this was the person who’d hacked into the site and found Dee’s name as the administrator, she had no clue how she could have known. After another hour, Dee finally gave up waiting to hear back from the frantic woman.

Grabbing her belongings again, she went down the back stairs of the administrative building, toward Kessler Library, noticing the new memorial garden that Cassie Winters had planted after her brother’s murder. She also noted the new emergency phones dotting the sidewalks across campus.

Walking past the new library’s construction site, Dee felt an odd sense of stepping back in time, to her own college days again, when they’d all felt perfectly safe walking across campus any time of day. All that had changed with recent events.

The air smelled like rain, bringing back memories of dashing to class, soaking wet.

She felt a few raindrops and walked faster.

She’d never liked studying at the library. Something about the huge old building gave her the chills. That feeling was heightened now, since a body had been uncovered on the library’s grounds.

Maybe it was just that she was thinking so much about the skeleton lately, who the victim was, and what she’d gone through. Not fifty feet from where she stood, Dee realized. Glancing over her shoulder, Dee noticed a dark shadow behind the row of azaleas that Cassie had planted in the memorial garden.

She picked up her pace, her heels clicking on the sidewalk. As a chill went up her spine, Dee looked to the left, then the right. The few students out walked in groups, ducking under trees to stay dry. All except one person—a short and slight figure wearing a dark, hooded sweatshirt. The person turned away from her, then walked toward the music school. Dee let out a sigh of relief. Even though the campus was well lit, she still had an eerie feeling. Her imagination was probably getting the best of her, she told herself. Just in case, when she was done at the library, she’d call the campus security office and request an escort to take her back to her car, another of the changes the college had put into place recently.

She replayed the phone conversation over in her mind, focusing hard to think of something she’d missed. The woman had had a very strong Southern accent and a formal speech pattern. But that was little help—Georgia was full of women with Southern accents.

Dee glanced back at the music building as she went up the steps to the library. She didn’t spot anyone, though it was difficult to see much with the lush undergrowth of palmettos and Spanish moss hanging from the live oak.

After stepping through the heavy oak doors, she passed the front desk. “Ma’am, would you scan your campus ID card?”

Dee kept an eye on the entrance as she dug through her purse for her wallet. “I know it’s here somewhere.”

The student working behind the desk said, “If you don’t have it with you, I need to have you fill out a community ID. It’s part of our new security policy.”

“I just got a new card—I hope it’s in this purse.” With a sigh of relief, Dee pulled her staff ID card from her wallet and brushed it past the scanner. “Are the yearbook archives still in the basement?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Dee hurried downstairs. At a table in a quiet corner facing the exit, Dee piled decade-old school yearbooks and newspapers from when she attended Magnolia College around her and started through them, recalling events she’d almost forgotten.

She laughed quietly at the costume contest pictures from her freshman year. The girls on her dorm floor had gone in the pajama party theme. She and Steff Kessler wore their freshly curled hair in banana clips on the back of their heads. Jennifer Pappas had her toothbrush tangled in dental floss hanging around her neck like a necklace; Josie Skerritt’s curling iron was twisted and dangling from her hair. That was her last name—Skerritt! Trying to place the other girls in the photo, she looked closer. Payton…Payton Bell and Alicia Whittaker.

Dee knew from the e-mails that Josie hadn’t been at the reunion, but was Payton there? That was her only regret about the reunion: she’d spent so much time with Edgar that she hadn’t really talked to anyone else there, besides her closest friends. She smiled. It had been a wonderful night.

Now, looking through the old photos, she couldn’t believe how much they had all changed. It took her a moment to find Cassie Winters in the group photo. Who was that in the baby-doll pajamas? Penny Brighton. And next to her, Kate Brooks dressed in footie pajamas and bunny slippers with her hair in knots all over her head. They’d nearly caused a riot on campus with their outrageous ideas. But they had won the gift certificate which allowed them to order pizza a couple of nights. Pure gold in those days.