Love Inspired Suspense June 2014 Bundle 2 of 2: Forced AllianceOut for JusticeNo Place to Run

by Worth, Lenora; Post, Carol J. ; Laird, Marion Faith

  Lexi gathered her purse and bent to place a kiss on her mother’s forehead. For the past four years her mom had dropped hints about her coming back home. But she had gotten really bad in recent weeks. With Lexi’s dad gone and Lexi living on her own, her mom had no one left to control. And it was driving her crazy.

  “I’ll keep coming by and helping you with your laundry and cleaning as long as you need me.” She moved toward the door before her mother could say anything else. “Night, Mom.”

  As she slid into the driver’s seat of the Mazda, she shook her head. Her mother needed something to occupy her. A pet or a job or something.

  No, not a job. Her mother had never worked a day in her life. She had been pampered by her parents growing up, then pampered by Lexi’s dad, to a much lesser degree, all her adult life. And now, thanks to a couple of good insurance policies, she was able to continue her standard of living without having to get a job.

  No, what she needed was a pet, some little foo-foo dog that would obey her every whim and gaze at her with undying devotion.

  Lexi put the car in Reverse and started to back out of the drive. Four blocks down, a familiar street branched off to the right and tugged at her gaze. Alan’s house was almost at the end. He was probably inside, stretched out with a book or chilling in front of the TV. Or maybe he was out on one of his dates. At least if he was with someone else, he wouldn’t be meddling in her life.

  She turned onto Highway 17 and pressed the pedal to the floor, watching the RPMs spike before backing off to shift to the next gear. There were times when she was thankful that she had moved away from Harmony Grove, and this was one of them. Being able to put distance between herself and Alan was a good thing. And now that she had been taken off the case, it would be even easier.

  His good looks and sweet ways had almost sucked her in. Spending so much time together, working toward a common goal and bound by their love for Kayla, the whole experience had wreaked havoc with her defenses. Sunday’s picnic in the park and romantic walk around the lake had almost finished her off.

  But that hadn’t lasted long. It had taken all of two days for her to remember why she valued her independence. Being pulled from the case was the pits, but Alan had done her a favor. He truly had.

  She eased off the gas at a reduced-speed-ahead sign and frowned. She had accused Alan of being like her mother. But after years of fighting to hold on to every piece of herself she could, maybe she was a little hypersensitive. Because the more she thought about it, the more she had to admit that everything Alan had done came from concern for her rather than his own selfish desires. That alone made him totally different from her mother.

  At some point she needed to talk to him. She couldn’t stay mad forever. But when that time came, she was going to take it slow.

  A ringtone cut into her thoughts, and she pulled off the road to dig for her phone. The number on the screen wasn’t familiar, and uneasiness trickled over her, leaving goose bumps in its wake. Would she ever be able to look at a strange number on her phone without fear slashing through her?

  Heart thumping, she put the phone to her ear.

  “Is this Lexi? This is Jennifer Rushdan. I thought it might be you.”

  “You thought what might be me?”

  “Alexis Simmons, the name at the bottom of this flyer.”

  Lexi sat straighter and squeezed the phone more tightly. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  To all her peers, she had always been simply Lexi. Jen wasn’t exactly her peer, but she was the kid sister of one of her peers. She’d grown up two doors down from the Simmons house. And she had somehow gotten hold of one of her and Alan’s notices.

  “So you have a flyer?”

  “I got it from a guy I work with. His younger sister goes to Polk State.”

  “I see. You don’t know someone who has been stopped, do you?”

  “Yeah, I got stopped today on my way home from work.”

  Lexi’s heart jumped to double time and a fine sheen of moisture coated her palms. “By someone in an unmarked car?”

  “Yep. I think it was a white Toyota Camry. The flashing lights looked like they were coming from his dash. As soon as he stopped me, he turned them off.”

  That would make sense. He wouldn’t want to attract any more attention to himself than necessary. Otherwise, a real officer might stop to offer assistance and instantly recognize him for a fraud.

  “So tell me what happened.”

  “He asked for my license and registration and insurance information. When he looked at my license, he asked if that was the correct address. I told him it was. He took my stuff back to his car, sat in there for a couple of minutes, then brought everything back to me.”

  “Did he say why he stopped you?”

  “Yeah, he said I was speeding. I was, too. But he didn’t give me a ticket. Just told me to slow down.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “He was in a dark green uniform.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. But you know how they normally have patches on the sleeves and a nameplate over the shirt pocket? Well, his didn’t have any. It was just a plain dark green uniform. But there was a silver star over the pocket. It said Sheriff, but that’s all.”

  Definitely not a real sheriff’s deputy. But close enough to fool someone not paying attention. Or not warned.

  “What else can you tell me about him?”

  “He had, like, a buzz cut. His hair was a brownish color.”

  “How about height and weight?”

  “I never got out of the car, so I don’t know about his height. But he was average weight. Pretty muscular.”

  “Age?”

  “Maybe thirty.”

  “Any tattoos, distinguishing characteristics, jewelry?”

  “No, none of that. I was paying attention, too, because Darrel just gave me the flyer yesterday.”

  “Okay, you did good, Jen.”

  “So what now?”

  “We’ll get some officers to stake out your house. They’ll be there every night until he comes back.”

  There was a long pause, as if Jen had just now considered the possibility that he might come back for her. “Lexi? Will you stay with me?” Her voice had suddenly grown thin and weak.

  “How about staying with your parents tonight? Then from tomorrow night on, the detectives will be there. They’ll be right outside. So you’ll be safe.”

  “I don’t want to be alone. I’m scared. Please?”

  “All right. I’ll stay.” Tomlinson probably wouldn’t be happy. But Jen was bait. If she wanted company, she would have it.

  As soon as she disconnected the call, Lexi dialed Tomlinson.

  “You know those flyers that Alan and I passed out? If you remember, it’s my number that’s at the bottom. Well, we got a bite.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “She’s twenty-five, finished school three years ago. But a coworker of hers got a flyer from his younger sister who’s a student at Polk State. She said the uniform was dark green, like ours, but she didn’t see the sheriff’s department patch on the sleeve. I’m going to check to see if anything was actually run.”

  “You’re not doing anything.” Tomlinson’s voice was low but held a steely edge. “Give the girl’s info to Kaminski.”

  Lexi sighed. “Come on, Sarge. I’m perfectly safe stuck behind a computer.” She tried to keep the resentment out of her tone, but wasn’t quite successful.

  “I’m not backing down on this, Lexi. This isn’t your case anymore. It’s Kaminski’s. Get the girl’s info to him, and we’ll stake out her place. I assume she lives alone?”

  Lexi let her head fall back against the seat, her shoulders slumping in resignation. “Yeah. I’ve known her all her life. She grew up a couple doors down from me. But she’s been on her own for the past three years.”

  “Another Harmony Grove resident. I’ll tell Kaminski to include Alan on this.”

  Oh, y
eah, rub it in. Alan would be hiding out, ready to spring, while she sat tucked away in the house, safe from harm.

  “She asked me to stay with her.”

  “No.”

  “She begged me. I promised her I would.”

  “I don’t want you anywhere near there. I don’t trust you to not jump in and get involved.”

  “Come on, Sarge. She’s scared to death. Let me stay with her.”

  Silence stretched through the line while he thought. Finally he sighed. “Okay, Simmons. I’ll allow it this time. But you stay inside with the girl. I don’t want to hear of you taking any unnecessary chances.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  She would do as Tomlinson said. She would stay inside.

  But if it came down to watching Jen being drugged with chloroform, ready to be dragged away and murdered, no way was she going to stand idly by, hoping that backup was just outside.

  She would take the creep down.

  *

  Alan tried to wipe the rain from his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. It didn’t help. There wasn’t a square inch of dry cloth anywhere on his body. Although the rain had slowed to a light drizzle, he was cold, wet and miserable.

  For the past two hours he had huddled under the overhang while wind gusts drove icy droplets into his face. Detectives Kaminski and Ford were also there, Ford on the opposite side of the house and Kaminski behind the hedge that ran the length of the front, broken by the porch.

  And Lexi was inside. Dry and comfortable. The same place she had been for the past two nights. She was probably still mad at him. At least he assumed so. He hadn’t actually talked to her. She had seemed bent on avoiding him all week.

  He pushed himself away from the wall and walked out into the yard. The worst of the rain had passed, but heavy clouds obscured the night sky. A brilliant half-moon was up there somewhere. He had seen it the past two nights.

  On those nights, Lexi had been inside, likely seething, furious at him for his part in having her removed from the case. Tonight she was probably gloating, figuring a little bit of discomfort served him right.

  He pulled his soggy shirt away from his chest where it had molded itself. What he wouldn’t give for a hot shower. Some dry clothes wouldn’t be bad, either. It was going to be a long night.

  A long, unproductive night, if it was anything like the previous two.

  The killer showing up tonight was a long shot. If he didn’t come out when the skies were clear and the air a balmy seventy degrees, he wasn’t likely to show up on a miserable night like this. Which meant they would be right back out here tomorrow night. And the night after that and the night after that. They finally had a chance of catching this guy. They knew the “where.” And the “who” was Jen. But the “when” was anybody’s guess.

  With a sigh, he headed toward an oak tree that shaded a good portion of the front yard. That had been his hiding place before the downpour had chased him up against the house. The tree trunk was large enough to hide behind but offered him a clear view of Jen’s front yard and the back and one side of the Carson place. The two houses shared a drive. It branched off toward the Carsons’ garage, then continued all the way back to Jen’s cottage.

  Alan crossed his arms and leaned back against the trunk of the tree. The boredom was getting to him as much as the soggy clothes. Tomorrow he would consider downloading some MP3s. Good music and interesting podcasts would go a long way toward getting him through the night.

  He sighed again, letting his gaze travel to the end of the street. A car turned onto Oakwood Lane and anticipation coursed through him. A dead-end road, Oakwood hadn’t seen much activity since dark. None in the past hour.

  The car came closer, passing under a streetlight. Definitely a Toyota Camry. The same Camry that had stopped Jen? They would find out momentarily.

  Suddenly, the headlights went out.

  Alan tensed, heart pounding in his chest. There was only one reason to cruise down the street with lights off. To avoid being seen. Even if the Camry driver wasn’t the killer, he was up to no good.

  The car continued to move at a crawl, barely visible in the distant glow of the streetlight. It passed in front of the Carson house, then disappeared from view. Alan held his breath and waited. Moments later, it reappeared and came to a slow stop at the end of the driveway. After several tense moments, the wheels turned hard to the right, and it resumed its forward movement, tires crunching against gravel as it rolled into the drive.

  Yes! The killer was falling for their trap. If all went as planned, once Jen opened the door and he pulled out his chloroform-soaked cloth, they would storm the house and capture him. In a few minutes it would all be over. Six months of hard work brought to a satisfying close.

  But instead of continuing up the drive, the Camry stopped. The wheels turned again, this time to the left, and the car began to back toward the Carsons’ garage. What was he doing?

  The next moment, realization extinguished his excitement. No, not there! Number 410 was all the way to the back, 408 at the front. Come on, it’s marked. Right at the beginning of the drive.

  Alan watched from fifty feet away, praying the killer would figure it out. Finally the driver’s door swung open. But the dome light didn’t come on. He had turned it off. The guy was careful. Of course, they already knew that.

  For several moments he stood next to the car, door open. He seemed to be scanning the area, looking for danger, ears cocked for the slightest movement.

  Alan longed to move closer, maybe even try to get a tag number. But he didn’t dare. The guy was on edge, superalert. It was obvious in the way he stood, the tension that emanated from him. Nothing would escape his notice. A rustle of clothing, the snap of a twig, and he would take off.

  Finally he moved away from the car and began to walk toward the house. The wrong house. The Carsons were home, and though it was almost eleven o’clock, they hadn’t gone to bed. Several lights were on inside, and a television filled one room with a soft, bluish glow.

  The suspect stepped from view, presumably headed to the front door. Alan cast a glance at Kaminski, who was watching from around the corner of Jen’s house. After a nod and gesture from the older detective, Alan sprang from his hiding place to sprint toward the Carson house. Plans had just changed.

  He stayed in the shadows as much as possible, moving from tree to tree and finally ducking behind one of the shrubs that sparsely lined the opposite side of the drive. He had just straightened to dive behind the next one when the driver reappeared, hurrying toward his car.

  Alan crouched behind the shrub and waited. Maybe the suspect realized he had the wrong house and would just continue up the drive. When he did, Kaminski and Ford would be waiting for him.

  But instead of driving into the trap set for him, he took off in a spray of gravel and slid sideways several inches before hitting the road. Alan grabbed his radio and shot across the Carsons’ yard. Just as he reached the road, the car sped past, lights still off. By the time he had radioed in the description, both Kaminski and Ford stood next to him.

  Kaminski, the older one, was breathing harder than Ford. “Did you get a good look at him?”

  Alan shook his head. “It was too dark, and I wasn’t able to get close enough.”

  “Tag number?”

  “I couldn’t get that, either. He kept his lights off all the way to the end of the street. By the time he passed under the streetlight, he was too far away.”

  “Which way did he turn?”

  “Right.” Away from Harmony Grove, which wasn’t any surprise.

  “He may suspect we’re on to him.”

  Kaminski took a diagonal path to the drive through Carsons’ front yard. Alan followed, and Ford fell in beside him. When they reached the corner of the garage, the front door of the house swung open and Willie Carson stepped onto the porch. He was barefoot, dressed in plaid cotton pajamas that were a little too short for his tall, lanky frame.

  Alan backtracked to me
et him. He had given the Carsons sketchy information earlier in the week, letting them know they would be there. But this was the first night Willie had ventured outside.

  “Did you see something?”

  Willie nodded. “Sure did. The missus and me was gettin’ ready for bed, and I was turnin’ off lights. When I walked into the livin’ room, someone was at the window. He saw me and took off.”

  “Can you describe him for me?”

  “’Fraid not. Couldn’t see him that good through the screen, light being on inside and all.”

  “If you think of anything else that might help us, give me a call.”

  “Sure will.” Willie’s head bobbed. “Anything I can do to help. If he comes back, I’ll get my .22.”

  Alan held up a hand. “Let’s not get carried away. Just call me. No shooting anybody.”

  Willie nodded again, his enthusiasm a little more restrained. He had worked in one of the phosphate mines all his life and recently retired. This was probably the most excitement he’d had in a while.

  When Alan rejoined the others, they had all gathered in the cottage at the back. Jen and Lexi sat at the kitchen table nursing what looked like two glasses of iced tea. Ford stood behind a third chair, and Kaminski leaned against the doorjamb, pose casual.

  Kaminski raised a brow at him. “Well?”

  “I know why the suspect ran. Willie Carson went to turn off the living room light and came face-to-face with him.”

  “What do you think the chances are that he’ll be back?”

  Alan thought for a moment. “Probably not good. If he thinks Jen lives in the house at the front, he believes she’s not alone. And he only targets women who are alone.”

  His gaze drifted to Lexi, and she lifted her chin. She didn’t need the reminder. But he would give it anyway. Every chance he got.

  “And,” he continued, “if he realized his mistake and knows Jen lives in the cottage at the back, he still probably won’t be back. He knows we’re watching her place.”

  Alan’s running to the road had guaranteed that. But getting a tag number had been their best chance at identifying him. And he couldn’t pass it up.