“You never know,” Jack said.
Casey supposed that was part of the reason why people hired security consultants: because they always looked on the negative side. However, anyone who listened to Jack long enough risked becoming paranoid.
Trees obscured their view of Enid’s cabin until they entered the small yard. Trying to see it from Jack’s viewpoint, she noticed the elderly but well-maintained sedan in the carport, newly planted spring flowers along the front of the modest wood-sided home and a bird-feeder hanging outside the kitchen window.
At their knock, Enid opened the door. Her face lit up when she saw them. “Come on in!”
“Sorry to arrive unannounced.” Until that moment, it hadn’t occurred to Casey to call ahead. She and her tenants often dropped in on each other when they went out for walks.
“That’s perfectly all right.”
They stepped into the cozy interior. Upholstered chairs, ruffled curtains and a few too many end tables crowded the place. However, despite a wealth of figurines in several china cabinets, she didn’t see a speck of dust.
Jack lowered himself carefully onto the sofa as if afraid the old-fashioned furniture might break. The place certainly hadn’t been designed with men in mind, Casey mused.
“Hold on. I’m sure you’d enjoy refreshments.” As if eager for the opportunity to entertain, Enid vanished into the kitchen. Jack didn’t protest, perhaps because they hadn’t eaten lunch. Although Casey hadn’t felt hungry earlier, she quickly discovered she was starving. Since becoming pregnant, she’d had a hard time not devouring everything in sight.
Soon they were sitting around the claw-legged table, enjoying a large plate of tea sandwiches and cupcakes. Enid must have made the food yesterday in case they needed extra at the party, Casey realized, and felt touched by her neighbor’s concern.
“Moms-to-be need to keep up their energy,” her friend informed them. “Did you know that in Japan, mothers eat heartily just before giving birth? Here, they’re supposed to keep their stomachs empty because we medicate women during childbirth, while they don’t. The Japanese have the lowest infant mortality rate in the world, so they must be doing something right.”
“I had no idea you took such an interest in the subject,” Casey said. “Did you learn that when you went to Japan?” Enid enjoyed taking tours, usually to sites of historic interest.
Their hostess shook her head. “Gail loaned me a documentary about childbirth around the world. I think it’s fascinating how different cultures approach such a fundamental process, don’t you?”
“I’ve been more involved with preparing myself for the real thing,” she admitted. “It’s all uncharted territory to me.”
Jack came up for air after downing a ham sandwich. “Casey just had a lesson, all those breathing exercises. I should think that would make it harder.”
“Aren’t you supposed to practice them too?” Enid asked. “I imagine you’re going to be her coach.”
“I can’t stay that long.” He helped himself to a chicken sandwich. “These are great.”
“Thank you.” She fixed Casey with a penetrating stare, the way she used to do when her less-than-star pupil forgot a math theorem. “I know Gail offered to help, but the doctor will need her assistance. If your husband can’t be here, one of your friends ought to step in. What about Sandra, now that she’s back?”
Casey cringed at the memory of their recent encounter. “When I ran into her at church, she didn’t have anything nice to say about my impending motherhood. In fact, she seemed unhappy to see me.”
“Displaced anger,” Enid announced promptly. “Bunch of nonsense! It would do her good to stop blaming her problems on others. Well, never mind that. If you’d like a volunteer with absolutely no experience, I’d be more than happy to help. I hesitated to mention it before because I didn’t want to intrude.”
“What a sweet offer,” Casey said. “You know, I’d like that. You’re so calm, it might help keep me centered.” Jack was tapping his fingers on the table. The subject must make him uncomfortable. “Maybe later we can set up a time to practice with Gail.”
The retired teacher beamed as if she’d received a wonderful gift. “I’d enjoy that tremendously.”
Jack produced his notebook, clearly eager to steer the conversation to his investigation. After explaining about the damage to his car, he said, “Do you have any idea who might have done this?”
“No, but if I were you, I’d ask Chief Roundtree to look into it himself,” she advised. “I couldn’t believe it when Casey told me he sent Larry Malloy the other night.”
The pencil poised over the paper. “Why do you say that?”
“He’s unlikely material for a police officer.” Enid refilled Jack’s coffee cup without being asked. “I’m sure he’s matured since high school, but—well, never mind. That was several years ago.”
“If you have concerns, I’d like to hear them.” He waited expectantly.
“Larry used to goof off a lot in Algebra II,” she said. “After I flunked him, his parents made him postpone getting his driver’s license until he’d passed the class in summer school. He told some other kids he’d make me regret it, and one morning I came out to find that someone had let the air out of my tires.”
“Did you confront Malloy about this?”
“No. I couldn’t prove anything,” Enid replied. “And of course it was no monetary damage, just the inconvenience. Now, though, I wonder if he’ll put his heart into catching a vandal when he did the same kind of thing himself only seven or eight years ago.”
“You don’t know for sure that he did it,” Casey felt obliged to point out.
“No one else had a motive,” she said.
“The man we’re seeking squirted a pregnant woman with a hose and caused several hundred dollars’ worth of damage to my car,” Jack said.
“Objectively speaking, the events are different in many ways,” Enid agreed. “But they all sound like impulsive acts. Besides, I didn’t mean to imply that Larry was some kind of criminal, only that I’m not sure he’s the right man to handle the investigation.”
Jack tapped his pen against the pad. “Thanks for the information about Malloy. You never can tell when this kind of insight will prove useful.”
While he and Enid continued talking, Casey’s thoughts drifted to the young officer. She hadn’t known him well in school, since he’d been four years behind her. Still, it wasn’t reassuring to think that someone barely past the age of defiance had been entrusted with investigating her assault. More then ever, she appreciated Jack’s coming to the rescue.
Well, she’d better make good use of his talents while she had the chance. “I need to introduce Jack to the other tenants,” she told Enid. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Their hostess prepared a bag of cupcakes to go before showing them out. “I’m delighted you stopped in.”
They thanked her again for the food and her offer to coach Casey. Outside, as they headed toward the Rogers’ unit, she asked, “You don’t suspect Larry, do you?”
“No more than a number of other people. Still, if he was the prowler, it must have given him a perverse satisfaction to pretend to investigate his own crime.” Jack shortened his stride to allow for her more leisurely gait. “It didn’t sound as if he did a thorough job.”
“He spent maybe ten minutes looking around,” Casey said. “He asked a few questions and wrote down what I said, but he didn’t even come back the next day to look for evidence in the light. I don’t think he fingerprinted the hose, either.”
“And he could easily have picked it up while poking around, which gives him an alibi if his prints turn up.”
It was the kind of detail Casey would never have thought of. “Was that dereliction of duty, not to take prints?”
Jack ducked his head. “Actually, no. Upsetting as it is, what happened to you doesn’t fit the definition of a major crime. Collecting prints isn’t hard; however
, matching them to a perpetrator takes a lot of time, even assuming the guy’s prints are on record.”
They turned right onto the connecting lane. Ahead, on a gentle slope, a couple of deer lifted their heads from grazing.
Jack regarded them in amazement. “They act as if they’re tame. Don’t people hunt them?”
“Not on my property,” Casey said. “I let my tenants fish in the creek, but if they want to shoot, they have to go elsewhere.”
“I haven’t heard any gunshots, so I guess your neighbors don’t allow it either.”
“As I mentioned, nobody keeps an eye on the property west of mine. But hunting season’s restricted to fall and winter.”
The deer continued to observe them. Although the animals remained motionless, Casey knew that, if frightened, they would vanish in seconds like a wheel of birds.
“I’m a decent shot on the target range, but I’ve never understood the appeal of sport hunting,” Jack admitted.
He’d told her once that he’d never shot anyone on duty, though he’d had to draw his gun several times. He’d disliked doing it, he’d said, because aiming a gun at someone increased the risk of overreacting and pulling the trigger in error.
The Rogers’ bungalow lay directly behind Enid’s. As Casey approached with Jack, she noted that they hadn’t yet planted their vegetable garden, which was surrounded by a high fence to keep out deer and rabbits. In April, with a cold snap still possible, it remained a patch of straggling weeds.
“Who lives here?” Jack asked as they came within sight of a freshly painted blue-and-white house. With the cutout shutters and rose trellises erected by the residents, it resembled a cottage from a fairy tale.
“Bo and Rita,” Casey said. “They’re…”
Before she could finish, he grabbed her arm and half lifted, half dragged her into a clump of pines. “Down!”
Automatically, she obeyed. The pungent smell of pine surrounded her as she crouched. “What is it?”
“A man. Aiming a rifle at us.” Jack’s arms encircled her protectively. Despite the troublesome circumstances, Casey relished the contact.
“Bo’s never threatened anyone.” He worked as a custodian at the glass factory, and had received several certificates for reliability and dedication. “He and Rita may be mentally challenged, but they have exceptional common sense.”
“He might have gone ballistic. That can happen to anybody.” Jack indicated a faint trail through the trees. “I’ll distract him while you head for Enid’s place. Keep to the curve of the land and stay as close to the trees as possible.”
Casey peeked out. She could see Bo now, a rifle cradled in his arms as he scanned the area with a worried expression. “I don’t think he means any harm. They’re not used to strangers coming around, and Rita frightens easily. With all this talk about a prowler, Bo might simply be taking precautions.”
“Drawing a gun on someone isn’t a very wise precaution,” Jack replied tensely. “People have been known to fire back.”
“We’re not in L.A.,” Casey said. “Anyway, Bo doesn’t know you. I’m going to call him by name.”
“Wait!”
If she didn’t act now, this situation could escalate to the point where someone might get hurt. “Bo!” she shouted. “It’s me, Casey!”
“Don’t you ever follow directions?” Jack’s eyes narrowed.
“Not on my property,” she shot back. “I respect your expertise, but you ought to trust my instincts.”
“I’m your bodyguard,” he growled. “Let me do my job, all right?” Another glance toward the house and he shook his head. “Too late. He’s coming. Casey, get down.”
Her heart rate speeded. She knew Jack expected compliance, but hiding would simply make Bo even more nervous. “Bo!” she repeated. “I brought my husband to meet you. We just came from Enid’s house.”
“How do I know it’s really you?” he responded.
“Don’t you recognize my voice?”
“It could be a recording,” he said.
Jack clamped his hand on her arm. “Stay here. He’s not thinking straight.”
“Yes, he is.” She shook off his grip. “It’s going to make him suspicious if I don’t come out.”
“He’s already too suspicious for my taste,” her husband muttered.
Casey didn’t have time to explain what she understood instinctively, that Bo was doing his best to navigate a dazzlingly complex world where movies made the impossible seem real. To him, the notion of bad guys faking a recording of his landlady’s voice must seem perfectly credible.
“I’m going to come out now!” she called. “Bo, put your gun down. You don’t want to shoot me by accident!”
“I wish you wouldn’t do this.” Jack quivered with suppressed tension. But to his credit, he didn’t force the issue.
Pushing aside a pine branch, Casey stepped slowly into view. In front of her, Bo Rogers had lowered the muzzle of his rifle and stood staring intently. Of medium height, with thick, sandy hair, he wore the belligerent expression he assumed when he believed someone might be trying to trick him.
As a youngster, Casey’s mother had told her, cruel children had often made him the butt of their jokes. His essentially sweet nature and his good luck in meeting Rita at a special school had saved him. Still, he’d made up his mind never to let anyone push him around again. She respected him for it.
When he recognized her, he broke into a smile. “It is you!”
“I should have phoned ahead,” Casey apologized. “Would you like to meet Jack?”
“Sure!” Embarrassed, he poked the rifle into the ground. When her husband came out and she introduced them, Bo wiped his hand on his coveralls before shaking firmly. “Sorry if I scared you.”
“It’s not a good idea to point guns at people,” Jack told him. “A police officer might fire if he feels threatened.”
“Oh, they all know me around here.” Bo gestured toward the house. “Come on in.”
Rita, who’d met Jack at the party, ushered them inside. Always tidy and freshly painted, the cabin sported posters from animated films including Shrek and Finding Nemo. The entertainment center held a large assortment of fantasy and animated films.
Jack listened politely as their hosts enthused about the latest DVD releases. Patiently, he kept asking about anyone unusual they’d seen in the area, repeating the question when their attention strayed. The courteous way he treated the couple impressed Casey.
She suspected his manner hadn’t come easily. Jack had had a rough time in school, she’d gathered from what little he’d said about his early life. Showing kindness and patience spoke for the depth of his character and, perhaps, for compassion he’d learned from his own experience.
“The only person I’ve seen around is the movie man,” Bo said at last.
“The movie man?” Jack inquired.
“From the Roxy.”
“That’s the theater. Sandra’s parents own it,” Casey told her husband. To Bo, she said, “You mean Al Rawlins?”
He nodded. “I see him by the creek sometimes.”
Jack made a note. “What time of day?”
“I don’t know,” Bo replied.
Realizing he might be taking the question literally and meant he hadn’t checked his watch, Casey asked, “Was it at night?”
“Early morning,” Bo said. “On Saturdays when I go fishing.”
“What was he doing?” Jack queried.
“He was fishing, too.”
That didn’t make sense to Casey. “The Rawlinses live about a mile from here. The creek runs within a quarter-mile of their property, so I don’t know why he’d come all this way.”
“Did he tell you why he likes to fish here?” Jack inquired of Bo.
“He just waved,” the tenant told him.
“We’d better talk to Al ourselves, although we’ll have to be circumspect about it.” He asked Bo a few more questions, but the couple had nothing else to report. Jac
k thanked them earnestly.
That left one more tenant for him to meet, elderly Matt Dorning, but as they stepped into the mild afternoon, Casey’s stomach muscles tightened. Not wanting to alarm the Rogerses, she said nothing until they’d cleared the porch.
When her hand flew to her abdomen, Jack registered concern. “Is the baby kicking again or are you going into labor?”
“Neither one—at least, I don’t think so.” Since she’d come within three weeks of her due date, Casey couldn’t dismiss the possibility of labor, but this had happened before. “There’s something called Braxton Hicks contractions that occur sometimes, preparing me to have the baby.”
“How can you tell they’re not labor pains?” he asked as they walked slowly.
“I can’t be sure. I’ll have to see whether they intensify.” Although the tightening had passed, Casey didn’t feel like paying any more visits. “Let’s call it a day.”
“Agreed.” Jack rested one hand on the small of her back. “Gail’s your nurse, right?”
“I’ll phone her when we get home.” But Casey didn’t feel in any hurry, now that the contraction had ended.
The sunshine on her face and Jack’s touch sent her spirits soaring. She loved the Tennessee landscape bursting with spring scents and colors, but it meant even more with her husband close by.
“I’ve missed you,” she blurted.
“Let’s get you inside.” He steered Casey along the path.
She realized her comment must have made him uncomfortable. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty.”
“About what?” He sounded genuinely at sea.
“About not having been here.”
“Casey, I’m not that touchy,” Jack said. “I’ll feel better after you talk to the nurse, that’s all.”
“I’m perfectly healthy. Walking is good for me.”
“It might not be good for Diane.”
He was acting as nervous as any father-to-be. Casey wanted to throw her arms around him, but her judgment warned her not to make too much of his reaction.
The Baby's Bodyguard Page 8
