Good Night Sleep Tight Don't Let the Stalkers Bite (Charlie Bannerman Mysteries)

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Good Night Sleep Tight Don't Let the Stalkers Bite (Charlie Bannerman Mysteries) Page 15

by Teresa Watson


  “I thought you were going to keep a low profile,” he replied.

  “Charlie and I talked about this last night at great length. We aren’t going to hide anymore. It hasn’t done us any good anyway. I’ve lost my truck, the windows have been busted out of my Mustang, Charlie has a broken hand and I have stitches and a slight concussion. The only way to find out who is doing this is to try and flush them out.”

  “Are you insane?” Braden said. “I’m not going to let you risk her life…”

  I interrupted again. “I agree with him, Braden. Hiding hasn’t done any good. Whoever it is has still been able to get to me. If they want another shot at me, then they are going to have to do it in broad daylight around other people.”

  “I don’t think they are going to have a problem doing that, Charlie! Your car did explode in the middle of a parking lot during a weekday, remember?”

  I sighed. “I am aware of that, but what other choice do we have? I’m tired of hiding.”

  “What about carrying a gun?” Braden said.

  “And you called me insane? I can’t shoot with this cast on, Braden. I also haven’t practiced in a while. I don’t know how good of a shot I would be even without the cast.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Keaton said. “Never fired a gun before in my life.”

  Braden shook his head. “I don’t like it. You’re making yourself too much of a target.”

  “Don’t have much of a choice, I’m afraid,” I replied. “Besides, I think this is personal. The attacks have been focused on me. You two were just unintentional collateral damage.”

  “Oh that just makes me feel so much better,” Braden said sarcastically.

  “Same here,” Keaton added.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound that bad.” Man, open mouth, insert foot.

  “Stop trying to make her feel bad,” Sydney said. “You know what she meant by that. She doesn’t want to see anyone else get hurt.”

  “What she said,” I agreed.

  “I could never stop you from doing stupid things when we were kids, and now is no different, I suppose,” Braden conceded. “But if anything else happens to her, I am holding you personally responsible, Keaton.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Which means that as soon as I am physically able, I will be obligated to beat you senseless,” Braden added.

  “You do and I’ll tell Mother what REALLY happened the night of your senior prom.”

  Braden’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  I leaned over and look him right in the eye. “Try me.”

  “You know one of these days that isn’t going to work anymore.”

  “I know,” I said smugly.

  Keaton’s phone rang. “Hello? Uh huh, ok. We’ll be there in a little while. That was Chet,” he said. “They were getting ready to bulldoze the house when they found a package on the front porch. He called us first before Bernie.”

  “Wait five minutes before you call Bernie,” I instructed Braden.

  “You can’t go over there, Charlie,” Braden argued. “What if it is a bomb?”

  “It will certainly speed up demolition, won’t it?” I replied as we left.

  Chapter 36

  Unfortunately, Braden has never been one to do what he was told. Bernie was already there by the time we got to the house with Officer Fox and another officer I hadn’t seen before. “What are you doing here?” he said when we arrived.

  “It is my house, such as it is, Bernie,” I replied. “I have every right to be here.”

  He had no response to that, so he turned back to the package on the porch. “What do you think, Hoffsteller?” he said to the second officer.

  “I don’t see anything that would suggest it is motion activated,” Hoffsteller replied. “We should be able to pick it up safely and put it in the bomb barrel.”

  “Bomb barrel?” I said. “What is a bomb barrel?”

  “Well, actually, it’s just a barrel that we packed with padding,” Bernie admitted. “Small town, we can’t afford a bomb squad.”

  “So why don’t you just call for one from the Dallas PD? Would that be a lot better than risking your necks on a homemade bomb barrel?” I said.

  “Why don’t you take your smart aleck comments and go stand across the street, Bannerman?” Bernie snapped.

  “How is worrying about the safety of the police officers of my town a smart aleck remark? Geez, get a grip, Bernie,” I said, shoving him aside to get a closer look at the box. It was a flat box, wrapped in simple white paper with a blue bow wrapped around it. There was a card under the bow with my name on it. I slid it out as the others gasped. “It’s an envelope, guys. Relax.” Shaking my head, I flipped it over and opened it. “It’s just a present from an old friend,” I said, shoving the note back into the box. “Nothing is going to blow up.”

  “Why was it left on the front porch of your burned down house?” Bernie said, not buying my story.

  “Gee, because they didn’t know how else to get it to me? My current address isn’t exactly public information, now is it?” I quickly picked up the box, grabbed Keaton’s arm and started walking off.

  “Just a minute,” Bernie demanded. “I want to see what is in that box.”

  I turned and looked at him. “Excuse me?”

  He glared at me. “I don’t believe you, Charlie. I want to see what is in that box.”

  “Is your name on the envelope, Bernie?”

  “No.”

  “Is this still my private property?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “This is not addressed to you and it was left on MY property, therefore you have no right to demand to see what is in the contents of the box.”

  “Actually, I have every right,” he replied, snatching the box away from me. “Your life has been threatened and in the interest of public safety, I have to open it to make sure that there is nothing dangerous in it.” He ripped the wrapping paper off, pulled the lid off, looked inside and turned bright red. Shoving the lid back down, he shoved it into my arms as he stormed off, calling for his officers to follow him.

  Keaton laughed as we watched them drive off, but I couldn’t. All I felt was a cold fear in the pit of my stomach. As he turned around, Keaton saw the look on my face and fell silent. “What’s wrong?”

  I handed him the note and watched his face for a reaction. He looked up at me. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

  “Bit of payback for him acting like an ass, I suppose.” I shrugged. “But what really bugs me was the look on Officer Fox’s face. He was staring at me as if he were looking for a specific reaction.”

  “I didn’t notice.”

  “I did. It was creepy.”

  “But watching for people’s reactions to things is part of his job, Charlie. I’m sure that is all it was.”

  I wanted to believe him, I really did. But it was one particular look that gave me the heebie jeebies.

  He was leering at me, as if he already knew what was in the box.

  Chapter 37

  Chet came over. “Hey Keaton, can we get started now?”

  He nodded. “All clear. Go ahead, Chet.”

  I held out my hand. “Thank you for the hard work you and your men are doing for me, sir. I greatly appreciate it.”

  Chet shook my hand. “Call me Chet, ma’am. Happy to help. Real shame about what happened to your house.”

  “I’m Charlie. I was very fond of this place. It was my grandparents’ house.” I looked at the charred remains. “It had lots of sentimental value.”

  “I understand. We’ll do our best to give you a house just as good.” He smiled and walked off.

  “You never told me this was their place,” Keaton said as we walked over to the Shelby.

  “You never asked.”

  “I am really sorry about the house, Charlie,” he said quietly, squeezing my hand as we leaned against the car to watch.

  “It’s just a house,” I said, gett
ing a little choked up. “I still have the memories. That’s what counts.”

  We talked about our ideas for the house as the bulldozers brought down the blackened walls. I know my grandparents would have been sad to see the place destroyed, but they would have agreed that the memories were more important.

  Mr. Crubbs joined us as the work continued. “Evelyn and Dan were the best neighbors I ever had,” he said. “We used to hold barbeques in their backyard all the time. As soon as it was warm enough, your grandfather fired up the grill. There were times when it was too cold to grill, but if Dan wanted a grilled steak, there was no stopping him. Your grandmother stood at the back door and fussed at him the whole time he was standing out there, a heavy coat on with a scarf wrapped around his neck.”

  We all laughed. “Once the house is rebuilt, I’ll buy a new grill and we’ll have a barbeque in their honor,” I promised him.

  “By the way, some messenger left this for you,” he said, handing me a large envelope. I noticed that there was a lawyer’s name in the upper left corner. “He came by after you left for Hillsboro. I told him I would give it to you the next time I saw you.”

  The bus rumbled down the street and Mr. Crubbs walked away, flipping off the old Navy Seal bus driver and cursing at him. “He’s a hoot,” Keaton said, watching him walk off.

  “Yes, he is. I love him like a grandfather. It’s one reason I love living here. I get to hear these stories all the time.”

  The bulldozers left and a front loader came in, scooping up the bits and pieces, putting them in a dumpster that was sitting in my driveway. “We might as well go. It’s going to take a while for them to get all this cleaned up. Chet will have to check the foundation to make sure that it is still structurally sound and able to support another house. Odds are they will rip it out and put in a new one.”

  As I walked around to the passenger’s side of the car, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I looked around, but didn’t see anything. “What’s wrong?” Keaton asked.

  “Not sure,” I answered. “I just got the feeling that someone was watching me. Just a little jumpy, I guess.”

  As they drove off, a man put down his binoculars and smiled.

  Chapter 38

  The next week passed quietly. I threw the box and its contents away, and the envelope got lost in the shuffle. We split our time between the construction site and the condo. My ribs were healing, the cast was making me itch and I was getting restless. I was bored. I wanted something to do. I tried working on my novel, but I couldn’t concentrate.

  Ralph called on Wednesday morning, asking me to come down to the office. I wasn’t sure I really wanted to go anywhere near there after what happened the Wednesday before. Deja’s funeral had been on Monday, but I didn’t attend, although it was tempting. Considering the circumstances, I thought it was best that I just stay away and not cause a scene.

  Keaton drove me down to the office and dropped me off. “I have to go check something at the office,” he told me as I got out. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

  Nodding, I closed the door and went inside. As I passed Sarah’s desk, she stood up to give me a hug. “How are you doing?” she said as she sat back down.

  “I’m ok. Ribs are still a bit sore and I can’t find anything long enough to cure the itchy feeling I am getting from the cast.”

  “Are the police any closer to finding out who is doing this?”

  “Is this an official inquiry, Sarah, or just simply curiosity?”

  “Pure curiosity,” she swore. “Ralph is the one writing the story about this investigation, so be prepared to be grilled.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” I said as his office door swung open.

  “Charlie! Good to see you! Come on in. How are you feeling? You want something to drink? Have a seat,” he said, ushering me inside and closing the door.

  “Forget it, Ralph. I’m not telling you anything,” I replied as I sat down.

  “Aw, come on, Charlie, have a heart,” he pleaded, sitting down behind his desk. “Bernie won’t tell me anything beyond ‘no comment’.”

  “Ok,” I conceded, feeling sorry for him. “I’ll tell you something.”

  “Great!” He grabbed pen and paper. “Go ahead.”

  “No comment.”

  He threw his pen down on his desk. “That was mean, Bannerman,” he growled at me.

  “Did you really think I was going to tell you anything, Ralph? I am the victim of a crime here. Bernie told me to keep my mouth shut and not talk about anything.”

  “Yes, but you are also an employee of this newspaper. You have an obligation to tell your story for our readers.”

  “And when Bernie says I can, I will, in my own words and in my own way. Not your sensationalized grandiose manner. This story is dramatic enough without you making it sound even worse than it is.”

  “I resent that, Charlie,” he said, looking hurt.

  “Oh really, Ralph? Who made the escape of twenty hens sounds like they were running amok, trying to take over the town? If you are trying to figure out why subscriptions are down, I wouldn’t look any further than this room right here.”

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve saying that to me!”

  I stood up. “Deal with it, Ralph. There is nothing that you can say or do to me that is going to scare me. I have been through hell the last week. Idle threats from you don’t faze me one bit. If you want to get more readers, then start treating them like they have brains. Write the truth. Don’t make stuff up.” I opened the door to leave.

  “Wait, Charlie. I do have an assignment for you if you feel up to it.”

  “What?”

  “Do a human interest story, any topic or subject. Find something or someone to write about in our town that deserves to be put in the spotlight.”

  I looked at him. “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously.”

  “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been after you for years to let me do this and suddenly, you drop into my lap. Why now?”

  “I might have heard through the grapevine that you are a bit on edge, so I thought this would give you something to occupy your time.”

  “Wow.”

  “What now?”

  “There IS a heart in there after all.”

  “Get out of here, Bannerman!” he yelled, throwing his pen in my general direction. “I want that article a week from Friday, do you hear me?”

  He was still yelling as I closed the door. “What did you say to him?”

  “I just told him he had a heart.”

  “He does?” Sarah said, shocked. “I wonder if his wife knows.”

  I was laughing as I walked out of the newspaper office, and literally ran into Officer Fox. I stopped laughing and took a couple of steps back. “How are you, Ms. Bannerman?” he smiled.

  “Just fine, Officer Fox. You?”

  “Doing good, thank you. What brings you downtown?”

  “Work,” I said. “I have to pay for that new house somehow.”

  He laughed. “I can relate to that. Do you need a ride somewhere?”

  I was getting that same creepy feeling I had gotten last week. I couldn’t explain it and I couldn’t put my finger on why, but he scared me. “No, but thank you, though. My ride should be here in a few minutes. I just got done earlier than expected.”

  “I’ll be happy to run you home if you’d like,” he said, pointing to a truck parked nearby.

  No way in the world I was getting in a truck with that guy. Luckily, Keaton showed up at that moment. “Sorry I’m late, Charlie,” he said as he got out. “Chet had some questions about some specs for the house. Good to see you again, Officer Fox. How are you today?”

  “Just fine, thank you, Mr. Lawson,” he replied, the smile gone from his face. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have some errands to run. Have a good day.” He got into his truck and left.

  I felt myself go a bit weak in the knees and I lean
ed against Keaton. He wrapped an arm around me. “You ok?”

  “He gives me the creeps. Plain and simple.”

  “Why? What did he say?” Keaton said as we got into the car.

  “Besides offering me a ride, not much. But it was the way he was looking at me, it just …” I shuddered.

  “Should we go to talk to Bernie about him?”

  “And say what? ‘Gee, Bernie, Officer Fox gives me the creeps.’ He’ll laugh us right out of the office.”

  “Just try to make sure that you aren’t left alone with him.”

  “I need to get in touch with Zayne to see how he is doing with that project I gave him.”

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Charlie,” Zayne apologized when I asked for an update. “I’ve been swamped with a school project and I haven’t had much time to work on it before now. It will take me a couple of days. Is that ok?”

  “It’s not a problem, Zayne,” I assured him. “School comes first, you know that.”

  “Thanks. I promise I’ll work on it by Friday.”

  I thanked him and hung up. “He’s been busy with a school project. By the way, did you notice how much Fox’s truck looked like Cash’s?”

  “No, I didn’t. I was focused on you. May I ask you a question without you getting offended?” he said cautiously.

  “Sure, go ahead. What is it?”

  “Are you sure you aren’t just a little jumpy around people right now? I’ve noticed when we go out, you seem to scan the area like you are expecting someone to jump you.”

  “That obvious, huh?”

  He nodded. “It’s understandable, and I don’t blame you one bit. I wish this whole thing had ended with Cash’s death.”

  “So do I,” I admitted.

  “Why don’t we rent some movies tonight, make some popcorn and curl up on the couch together?”

  “Throw in a pizza and you’ve got a deal.”

  We stopped at Family Video, picked up ‘In Harm’s Way’ and ‘Operation Petticoat’ and headed home. I caught myself looking in the side mirror to see if we were being followed. Keaton was right. I was being paranoid. I sat back and relaxed. Nothing had happened in a week. Maybe this whole thing was over.

 

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