by Sharon Dunn
She nodded. “Okay, so let’s problem solve here.”
“Maybe this stalker is connected to a news story you covered,” he said.
She stared through the windshield as though a video were playing before her eyes. “There was one guy about five years ago. Randy Smith. He went to jail for robbery. He threatened everyone who had anything to do with his trial.” She touched the skirt of her ruined ball gown. “I remember, he pointed directly at me in the courtroom. I was only doing my job and reporting the facts.”
“That has to have been scary,” Zach said.
“It was, but I helped see that justice was the outcome and that made me feel good,” she said.
He slowed down when they entered the Badger city limits. So she desired justice over her own safety. He realized then he was sitting beside a very brave woman. “So would he be out by now?”
“I think so. And if I’m remembering right, he had a similar build to the guy who attacked me.” She cleared her throat and then rubbed her forehead. Her shoulders slumped. “I know this is important, and I want to get to bottom of it, but I really don’t want to think about this right now.”
He nodded. He wanted to nab this guy—Elizabeth wouldn’t be safe until they did—but it was clear the trauma was catching up to her. He slowed as he drew close to her neighborhood. He pulled up to the curb and pushed open his door. He ran around to her side of the car and held out a hand for her.
Even if she looked composed on the outside, he was pretty sure she was in a wrestling match with deep fear on the inside. Her fingers were cool to the touch as she gave him only a passing glance.
At the door, she fumbled through her clutch for the keys. She unlocked the door and pushed it open. She turned to face him.
“Thank you, Zach.” She reached up and touched his face. The brush of her hand on his cheek was so fleeting he thought he might have imagined it. The sudden heat on his face and the tight throat told him he hadn’t.
“No problem, Betsy.” The remark was intended to put distance between them. Her touch and his response to it caught him off-guard. They were still working on becoming friends, right? Nothing more. “I’ll let you know what the cops find out.” He’d do anything to pull her from the pit of angst she must be in. “You going to be all right?”
“I really just want to go into my house, lock the doors and not think about this right now.”
He understood all too well needing to block out everything.
She stepped inside and shut the door. He hurried back to his car. The best thing for dealing with his rage over what had happened to her was to do something. He pulled away from the curb and headed toward the police station.
He pulled his phone out. A text had come in from one of his fireman friends about a house fire. Let someone else get the story. He needed resolution for Elizabeth, or he wouldn’t be able to sleep either.
He dialed the personal number of the detective who would be handling the search at the golf course.
Glenn picked up on the second ring. “Zach.”
“Anything?”
“We’ve searched the grounds and the surrounding woods but we didn’t find anyone. There were a lot of people leaving the ball. He could have just gotten in his car and driven off before we had a chance to detain and question people.”
He squeezed the phone a little tighter. He really had hoped for an end to all this. “I’ll try to talk her into coming in tomorrow to make a statement.”
“She can do that. But there is zero evidence,” said Glenn.
Zach’s stomach tightened. “What happened tonight must be connected with her abduction.”
“Maybe, but we need evidence. Did you see the guy?”
“No, he ran off by the time I got to her.”
Glenn took a moment to answer. His voice dropped half an octave. “A television reporter like that is used to lots of attention.”
Zach gritted his teeth. “She’s not like that. She wouldn’t make something like this up.”
Glenn took a moment to answer. “We’ll focus our energy on the previous kidnapping. We have something to work with there. I don’t know what tonight was about.”
His jaw clenched. He didn’t want to get into an argument with his friend. “I just need you to do your job.”
“You know we will, but we can’t put man hours into investigating an attack with no leads. Bear in mind that I am sure Elizabeth Kramer has some major PTSD going on from the abduction. That kind of thing can mess with your head.”
PTSD. There were those letters again. Now he and Elizabeth had that in common. Prayer was the only thing that had kept him from spiraling down to a place where he’d lost all perspective. “She’s not safe until this guy is behind bars. That’s all I’m saying.”
“We are doing everything we can,” said Glenn.
Zach hung up. He checked his texts again. Maybe he could still make the fire. A text had come in from Elizabeth.
Someone is in my house.
* * *
Elizabeth had changed out of her ruined ball gown when she detected a smell in her bedroom that seemed foreign—a woodsy, damp smell. Her breath caught. Had a man been in her bedroom while she’d been changing in the bathroom?
Her gaze darted around the room. One of her coats had fallen on the floor, and the chair by her makeup table was askew, but it was the lingering odor that made her heart pound. She couldn’t take any chances. She grabbed her clutch and slipped into a closet.
Zach was probably not far away. She texted him.
While her heartbeat drummed in her ears, she listened. Had the culprit just been here and left or was he still in the house? The smell was so strong.
She heard noise in her office next door. It could be her cat.
Was she losing her mind? Was she just imagining things? It wasn’t a chance she was willing to take.
She thought she heard a door easing open.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Please, let that be Zach.
She checked her phone again. He hadn’t replied to her text. More footsteps. She pressed her back against the closet wall. The clothes shielded her. But if someone wanted to find her, they could.
“Elizabeth.” Zach’s voice was barely above a whisper.
Relief filled her. She leaned forward and pushed open the door. He hurried toward her from across the room and gathered her in his arms.
How easy it was to fall into his arms. Embarrassed, she pulled free of the embrace and looked up at him. “Did you see him?”
“No, but let’s search the house together.” He moved toward the bedroom door. “What tipped you off?”
“A smell in my bedroom.” The moment she said it, she realized how ridiculous it sounded.
He stared at her a moment too long.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“It doesn’t sound like the police are actively investigating what happened at the country club.” He pressed his lips together. “They just don’t have that much to work with, but they are all over the abduction.”
So now the police thought she was some kind of unstable nut job crying wolf. “I know someone was in my bedroom.” She kept her eyes on the floor as doubt filled her mind.
He touched her hand just above the elbow. “I believe you. Do you have a back door?”
She appreciated the vote of confidence from Zach, but wondered if he had some doubts, too. She led him through her office to the back door. Now she was beginning to wonder if her own fear had made her smell something that wasn’t there. She didn’t like the way the stalker was able to mess with her mentally even when he wasn’t around.
Zach stepped outside. “This door was locked?”
“Both doors were.” She leaned to look at the door handle. It did
n’t look like it had been forced. She let out a heavy sigh. “Nothing.”
“Wait a sec.” Zach took out a penlight and shone it on the keyhole. “See these scratches? I would say that someone used a lock pick to get it open.”
“Or those scratches could have been there from a long time ago.”
Zach straightened his back. “If you say someone was in the house, then someone was in your house.”
She liked him even more for believing her when she’d started to doubt herself.
“I can’t stay alone in the house tonight,” she said.
“Is there a friend you can call?”
“Not this late at night.”
“You can ride shotgun with me,” he said. “I got a text about another fire.”
“A news story,” she said, remembering the threat her kidnapper had made. “Another fire.”
“I won’t be the first one on the scene. You’ll be safe in my car.”
Might as well face her fear. Not having to cover the story would allow her to watch. Maybe her stalker would show up to the fire. Maybe he was the one who had started it. Then again, he must have noticed that she wasn’t on the broadcast for the last three nights. She braced herself against the terror that made her legs feel like cooked noodles. “I’ll go with you.”
* * *
As they sped across town, Zach wondered if he’d made the right choice in letting Elizabeth tag along. What other option did he have? He wasn’t about to leave her alone again. The police weren’t taking her second complaint seriously. She needed someone to be on her side and to keep her safe.
She crossed her arms over her body. “So did you miss getting the scoop on this fire because you came back for me?”
“Course not, Betsy,” he said. “Every once in a while you’ve got to throw the competition a bone or they stop trying, and where’s the fun in that?”
“Right.” Amusement colored her voice.
As he turned onto a residential street, he saw the cloud of smoke that indicated which house was on fire.
Her back stiffened, and she reached out for the dashboard.
He struggled to say something that would alleviate her fear. “He wouldn’t be dumb enough to set a fire twice.”
“I hope you’re right about that,” she said.
Her words had sounded a bit hollow. Both of them had done enough reporting to know that criminals often stuck to a pattern.
Orange-and-black flames shot out from the windows of the two-story house. Police held back the growing crowd while the firefighters worked to control the blaze.
He parked the car away from the lights, so Elizabeth wouldn’t be visible from the street. “Lock the doors if you need to. This won’t take more than ten minutes.”
“I’ll stay here.” She held up her phone. “I’m going to send some texts to people who might know if Randy Smith was paroled.”
Zach got out of the car. As he ambled toward the scene, he recognized Neil Thompson and the print reporters from the Chronicle. Neil spotted Zach and sauntered up to him.
“You’re a little off your game, aren’t you?”
Zach really wanted to punch Neil. He oozed arrogance anytime the camera wasn’t on him. Zach quelled his irritation and squared his shoulders. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Saw you earlier at the Waltz.” Neil patted his perfect hair. “But you left before I did—it shouldn’t have taken you so long to get here. Maybe you’re spending a little too much personal time with Ms. Kramer. Or are you just trying to get the interview no one else has been able to get?”
Now he really wanted to hit the guy in his perfect white teeth. “That’s not how I operate, Neil. I have something called ethics.” Zach walked away before he lost it.
While he was filming the fire, he saw Jim, one of the firemen he knew. Jim had sat down to rest on the truck and gestured him over.
“You’re late,” he said.
So everyone had noticed. He bit his tongue and tried to sound upbeat. “First time for everything.” He angled back toward the fire. “What do you know?”
“No one was at home. Family was on vacation.”
“Cause?” Zach studied the scene.
“Not clear. Maybe electrical and maybe...”
“The fire had a little help,” Zach said.
“We’re still in the prelims of the investigation,” said Jim. “We’ll know more once our guy can get in there and have a look.”
Zach patted Jim on the back. He finished up his story, took some pictures and then stared at the gathering crowd, watching the faces as trepidation crept over him. Was Elizabeth’s stalker out there waiting for her to show up? Would he be able to keep her safe?
SIX
Elizabeth jumped when the doorbell rang the next afternoon. Zach. She’d found out that Randy Smith was on parole and lived not far from Badger. The police didn’t see talking to Randy as a priority, so she’d decided to take matters into her own hands. She wanted this to be over, to feel like she could take a deep breath again and go back to work without being afraid.
When she’d shared her plan, Zach—who seemed to have appointed himself her bodyguard—insisted that he go along with her. She didn’t mind his company, but it bothered her that she couldn’t find any record of a Zach Beck having worked for any newspaper in the Baltimore area. Why had he lied?
She opened the door.
Zach was dressed in his usual ripped jeans and T-shirt. The five-o’clock shadow he’d dealt with for the ball was already making a reappearance.
“You ready?”
She nodded. They walked out to his car. The sunlight made the blond highlights in his hair glisten. He had an even, confident stride.
She wanted to believe that Zach was an honest person. Nothing he’d said or done indicated anything different. It touched her that he had given up being first at the fire to come to her rescue.
Still...her reporter instinct wouldn’t let her rest until she had a clear answer. But now wasn’t the time to ask. They got into the car and drove out of town.
Zach kept his eyes on the road. “How do you want to do this?”
“You mean talking to Randy Smith?”
“The guy did threaten you the last time he saw you in court,” he said.
“He lives with his wife, his mom and two kids. I’m hoping he won’t try anything with his family there.” Even as she said it, she wondered if she was stepping into a dangerous situation.
“Does he know you’re coming?”
“I thought it would be better to surprise him.” Elizabeth gripped the armrest. The more they talked about this, the more anxious she became.
They reached the outskirts of Badger, and Zach turned onto a country road. “There are two of us, so he’s not likely to try anything even if he’s alone. I can do the interview if you like.”
“I know the questions to ask without being direct to fish out if he’s connected to all this,” she said. She didn’t like that he questioned her professional abilities. Maybe she was still competing with him a little.
“I know you do, Betsy.” He gave her shoulder a friendly punch.
She let out a huff of air and shook her head. He had a way of lightening the mood no matter what.
The road clipped by and then wound up one side of the mountain and down the other. A farmhouse with a barn came into view. Zach shifted in his seat. “This is kind of isolated out here.”
Tension knotted down her back. “Like I said, the family should be around.”
He pulled up to the farmhouse. His shoulder brushed hers as he leaned over and flipped open the glove compartment, retrieving a gun and a box of ammunition rounds.
Her breath hitched. “Really?”
“It was armed robbery that he was p
ut away for, right?” He pushed open the cylinder of the revolver and loaded the chamber. “When I was covering the action in A-stan this was standard-issue for reporters.”
“Afghanistan? Really, Badger must be a step down, excitement-wise, from covering a war.” It was the first hint he’d given about his past experience, aside from his mention of Baltimore.
She saw the color burning his cheeks just as he turned away and pushed open the door. Apparently he’d revealed more than he’d intended. She could read his body language well enough to know it wasn’t the time to press him. What had happened over there? Why was he so secretive?
Zach shoved the gun in his waistband and made his way through a rickety gate to a porch that had an old couch on it. A hound dog came around from the side of house, eyeballing them but not barking.
Zach knocked on the door.
The place looked pretty deserted. A breeze blew across the porch causing the wind chimes to tinkle.
Footsteps pounded from inside the house, and the door swung open. An older woman in a housedress with piercing blue eyes furrowed her forehead. This had to be Randy’s mother. “We’re looking for Randy Smith,” Zach said.
“He’s out in the shop.” She pointed across the field at the barn. “He wasn’t expectin’ no customers today.”
They thanked the woman and walked away. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t have to explain who she was. They walked across the field. The knot in her stomach grew tighter. An image of Randy Smith’s face distorted with hate when he was in the courtroom flashed through her mind. What were they walking into?
Zach stepped out in front of her. She appreciated his protective instincts, but she didn’t want him to think she couldn’t handle things herself. Maybe he had been in a war zone, but she had been in plenty of sticky situations, too.
She quickened her pace to catch up with him, her competitive spirit kicking into high gear. “Let me do the talking. I can handle it.”
He’d seen her at her weakest that night of the abduction, and then again when she’d nearly drowned. She didn’t want him to think she couldn’t do her job anymore. An interview was an interview whether you had a personal connection to it or not.
