Countdown to Danger: Alive After New Year / New Year's Target

John had no clue about where the text had originated, but he could easily predict that if it were possible to call and have it tracked, it would have come from the woods to the east of the house—perhaps down closer to the creek. “Whoever wrote this was at the front of the house sometime after I arrived but before I brought in the muffins. They apparently haven’t been watching all this time because they’re writing to you, Kirstie.”

“This is simply meant to frighten us,” Gerard said. “We can’t let that happen. Every resident in Jolly Mill knows the truth—that Lawson Barnes bequeathed everything to our center, and nothing ever went to Kirstie.”

“So that can help us narrow down our suspects,” John said. “Kirstie, why don’t you start calling friends and bring them in on this? Spread the word. In a tiny place like Jolly Mill, the more eyes we have on strangers sneaking through town, the more likely we are to catch this—”

Kirstie nodded, her delicate chin jutting out with determination. “I’ll call Nora first, of course, then Carmen.”

John nodded. Kirstie Marshall was already planning. Her love for her daughter was one of her strongest assets.

Gerard frowned at the initial note. “This writer has been scanning information from the media. They were the ones who spread the lie far and wide that Lynley, a much-publicized defendant in the lawsuit, stood to inherit millions of dollars from a dead uncle.” His lip curled in disgust. “Isn’t it always about the money?”

“So we’re all in agreement that we can rule out the plaintiffs in the malpractice trial.” John looked at Lynley, then Gerard and Kirstie.

Gerard scrunched his flint-carved face. “We aren’t working with absolutes right now. Not yet, anyway. I wouldn’t rule it out, but their motive is greed. Somehow we need to convince this individual that there are no deep pockets for them to dig into.”

John agreed. It was too soon to choose one direction to investigate. He’d seen bad results those times his colleagues made a judgment too early and let the real culprit get away.

Kirstie held the red-and-green note up by the tip of her thumb and finger, as if it might be contagious. “You’re right. Someone knows that threatening my only child is the quickest way to get to me.” She dropped the paper on the coffee table. “They don’t know who they’re dealing with, do they, sweetheart?” She nudged her daughter with her elbow.

Lynley nudged back. “Love you, too, Mom.”

“Lynley,” Gerard said, “we’re not letting anybody near you.”

“We can’t rule out Jolly Mill and rehab center residents altogether,” John said, “but I’m mostly working on the premise that this has to be someone from out of town.”

Gerard’s phone chimed, and he grabbed it and flipped it open. “Megan? You have news already, honey?”

John watched his friend’s face as the charmed expression—the one he always wore when talking to his beloved wife—turned to stone once more.

“Blue car? What kind?” He listened some more, nodding as if his wife could see him. “Okay, hon. Thanks. That should help.”

After he disconnected he turned to them, grim faced. “Mrs. Drews, who lives down by the Baptist church, was walking to work this morning when she saw a blue car park at the old Bethel Church on the road past the edge of town, so it was too far away to see what kind of car it was. Someone in a hoodie walked across the field toward the woods and went right through Capps Creek. Must’ve been wearing high waders.”

“Then that’s who I saw,” John said.

“Could she tell if it was male or female?” Lynley asked.

“All we know is that someone’s serious about this thing,” John said. “We’d better start circling the wagons.”

* * *

Lynley felt dizzy. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the sofa.

A soft hand pressed against her arm. “Sweetheart, why don’t you go lie down for a little bit.” It was Mom’s gentle voice.

Lynley opened her eyes and saw the three of them watching her with concern. She’d expect this kind of attention from her mother, but from two big, tough men with work to do and bad guys to catch? It scared her a little that they were so worried about her.

“The best way to keep Lynley safe is to find this person before New Year’s Eve,” John said. “And for Gerard or me to keep her with one of us at all times.”

“Agreed,” Mom said. “John, can you call in help? The sheriff?”

“I’m sorry, but one little note without a dead body, they wouldn’t give it a glance. Even in the winter months they’re constantly fighting the drug trade.”

“I’m wondering about one possibility.” John glanced at Lynley as if braced for battle. “I’m thinking about someone who was once a member of the Marshall family, but no longer—”

“Dodge Knowles,” Lynley said.

Mom stiffened beside her, and her hands clenched until her fingertips whitened. “I’d have thought Barry might have done something like this if he were still alive, but...”

“My father tried to kill you, Mom,” Lynley said. “Who’s to say I didn’t choose the same kind of man?”

“Where is your ex-husband now, Lynley?” Gerard asked.

“I have no idea, but I doubt he’s nearby,” Lynley said. “I was so glad to see him out of my life I was willing to give up the house to the lazy lecher.” She started to say more, but bit the tip of her tongue. It was something she’d never told Mom.

“But we never heard if he actually sold the house,” Mom said. “And it’s in Cassville. Barely a thirty-minute drive from here.”

Lynley shook her head. “The only reason he wanted it was so he could sell it for the money. I sank every dime and spare moment I had into that place, and by the time it was finished it was worth twice what we paid for it. He was constantly talking about getting out of the state. He had a nursing license for Kansas, as well.”

John jumped to his feet. “Mind if I use your computer, Kirstie? I’ll check it out while y’all brainstorm other options.”

Lynley sat in silence, recalling Dodge’s multiple complaints when she’d insisted on leaving Kansas City and buying a place closer to Mom when she was battling breast cancer years ago. The one thing that had begun the destruction of their marriage was when he commented that if her mother died from cancer, at least he and Lynley would never have to work again. They’d be multimillionaires as soon as Kirstie’s uncle died. It was on that day that Lynley discovered she’d married a man just like her dead father.

Lynley cast Mom a quick glance. She’d endured so much, but she was as filled with vitality as she ever had been. It gave Lynley a feeling of peace—the thought that maybe someday she’d be more like her mother, despite her late father’s blood running through her veins. Mom was her rock.

The clatter of Kirstie’s keyboard echoed through the house, and in the beams of sunlight coming through the windows, cat hair floated like stardust. If Mom had her way, this place would soon be crawling with friends, neighbors—most of them empowered with weapons and righteous indignation.

John returned to the room. “Found Dodge.”

“Where?” Mom asked.

He gave Lynley a look of sympathy. “Apparently he’s still living in the house he was awarded in the divorce settlement. He’s in Cassville. He’s working at the hospital in town.”

Lynley slumped back into the sofa. “But I thought he was...gone.”

“This makes him a candidate,” John said. “He would have known about the family money. What he wouldn’t know, since he’s no longer connected to anyone in town, is that you don’t have what he’s after.”

“There’s another option,” Gerard said. “We still have the bulk of Lawson’s bequest in a special fund to support the center while we build the manufacturing plant at the edge of town.”

Lynley sat up, horrified at what he would consider giving up. “Oh, no you don’t. We are not giving the money to this fiend.”

“It would be a way to buy time and track them down.”

“Find another way,” Lynley said. “That’s not happening.”

Mom touched her arm. “Honey, this is your life we’re talking about.”

“This is extortion. I refuse to let someone get rich by using me as a pawn. We’ll have to figure out something else.”

“You can’t tell me what to do with the money your mother donated to my cause,” Gerard said gently.

Lynley paused to breathe, sorting through the streams of anger, terror and frustration that threatened to tie her in knots. “What if Dodge really is behind this?”

Mom met her gaze. “I never trusted that man, but I also never dreamed he would do something like this.”

“We never dreamed my father would try to poison you with mercury, either,” Lynley said.

Mom closed her eyes and shook her head. “It was always about the money for him, too.”

Lynley’s heart squeezed painfully at the sadness in her mother’s voice. Mom had blamed herself for the choices her husband had made. It wasn’t fair. He’d been the one to make those decisions, have those affairs, and even stoop so low as to poison her to get his hands on her uncle’s money, and she took the blame for it? Not fair at all.

With a quick glance at John, Lynley reminded herself why she had no business even considering another man in her life. If her wise, insightful, mother couldn’t read correctly into the heart of a man, what hope was there?

“My question, then,” Gerard said, “is how much is Dodge like Barry?”

Lynley studied the lines of worry around Mom’s eyes, the firm chin, the determined gaze.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” Mom asked. “Could that note have been from him?”

Lynley wanted to reach through the lines of that hideous note, the hateful text message to Mom, and discover where they originated. If only she had that kind of insight. But she didn’t. “I think Dodge might be a place to start.”

FOUR

Two days after Christmas, John was astounded to find himself driving Gerard’s SUV down Highway 37 toward Cassville, Missouri, with Lynley Marshall, of all people, in the passenger seat. He’d had no choice, really. Gerard had an emergency with one of his rehab people this morning.

“I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “If something happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself, your mother will never forgive me, the whole town of Jolly Mill—”

“Would you stop?” Lynley sat slumped low in the seat, and with the tinted windows in Gerard’s SUV, they’d hoped to make this work. “We’re doing the best we can, and you know I can handle that pistol in the glove compartment. Not that it’ll come to that.”

“No. I’ll be with Dodge, and I’ll have my eyes on him at all times. He’ll never know you’re anywhere in Cassville. I still think it might’ve been better for you to go with Gerard to Springfield than to be sitting in the car while I interrogate.”

“Look at it this way—you need me to give you directions to the house.”

“GPS.”

“Your girlfriend?” Lynley’s voice raised in mock exasperation, making him smile despite the reason for this trip.

“Just because it has a female voice—”

“And has gotten us lost half the time we’ve used her. Remember when she placed us on Highway 76 in Branson during rush hour? But would you listen to me and take the alternate routes? No, you had to listen to your girlfriend instead of your...good friend.”

He grinned over at her and was glad to see it reflected back at him. Since reading that note yesterday and seeing her reaction to it, he’d felt overwhelmed with a need to cheer her up, to ensure her safety at any cost. She didn’t realize that he could see the pain in her eyes when she thought her ex-husband might have threatened her life. To think that someone who had once vowed to love her might now be threatening to kill her...of course that would hurt.

“There’s the first traffic signal,” she said. “You’ll want to turn left.”

“You sure? Maybe I should ask my girlfriend.”

She chuckled, and he felt warm all the way through. Good. He’d gotten her to laugh. Mere hours after meeting her, he’d learned about her mistrust of every GPS system known to man. Lynley preferred a good old-fashioned map. She’d even challenged his GPS system to a test, and Lynley and her map had won. In Branson, Missouri, no less, which challenged every GPS system invented.

“Where’s Kirstie?” he asked.

“Lunch prep at the rehab center. Nora and Carmen are guarding her, just in case. I hope Nora bakes some of her famous cookies while she’s in the kitchen. I would’ve been helping if Gerard hadn’t been called out.”

“Now, that’s something I’d like to see.”

“What? Me cooking? I can do that.”

“I’ve never seen it.”

“That’s because we’re always at Mom’s and she likes to cook.”

“And you don’t.”

“Not my skill set.”

“I recall a gluten-free puff pancake you made that was one of the best things I ever tasted. Oh, and that thing you call a man-quiche.”

“That’s right. I remember. You ate the whole thing.”

“I have to admire a woman who knows her skill set.”

She chuckled.

He felt a little squeeze in the region of his chest. It was a warning sign; Lynley had begun to settle even more deeply into his heart. It alarmed him now as it did every time he thought about it.

“Turn left again at the next road.”

“How many times did we go over these directions before—”

“Now turn right. Trust me, it’s a short, one-block street, and it’s hard to—”

“Turn right here?”

“Left, then immediately right. Maybe you weren’t listening.”

“I could always have used the GPS.”

“Someday she’s going to disappear and you’ll never find her.”

“Oh, but I’ll know who did the dastardly deed.”

“That won’t matter. You’ll need proof.”

“How many traffic signals did you say Cassville has?”

“Three, I believe.”

He shook his head. “And you thought I’d get lost in a town this size?” He’d thought his hometown of Sikeston, Missouri, across the state, was small, but tiny farming communities were the norm in the Missouri Ozarks. The closest shopping mall was in Springfield, over an hour’s drive from Jolly Mill.

The charm of a small town outclassed the convenience of the third-largest city in Missouri for Lynley, however, and since she was a country girl at heart, she came home to stay with Kirstie whenever she didn’t have back-to-back shifts at the hospital.

John smiled when he tried to count how many of Lynley’s friends just happened to mention, with a wink, that she never used to come home so often. She’d been scheduled for two shifts this week, and neither John, Gerard nor Kirstie had been able to make her call the hospital and cancel those shifts yesterday.

Later last night, after Kirstie had gone to bed with an old rifle under her pillow and Gerard had gone home with his wife, John tried again.

“Lynley, I can’t believe you,” he’d said. “None of us can know when you might come under attack. It’s foolhardy to attempt to work under these circumstances.”

“Then come with me.”

“You think the hospital will allow you to have a bodyguard all day?”

“No, because the hospital won’t know about this threat.”

“And why is that?” he asked.

“Because I won’t tell them.”

“That, too, is foolhardy. You need to consider your patients. They could be in danger, too.”

Lynley picked up the note and shook it in his face. “You said this was written by someone who’s greedy, not someone out for revenge. That means the hospital will be a safe place to be. So I’m going. End of argument.”

“You know what? It’s one thing to be strong and determined. It’s dangerous to be as bullheaded and stubborn as a...an old bull.” Great way with words, Russell.

And Lynley laughed. Which made John angry.

He got up and paced across the living room floor. “Sandra would never have done this.”

He didn’t realize he’d spoken the words aloud until he turned back to see Lynley’s eyes widening and her lips parting. “Done what?” she asked softly. Too softly.

He sank into the recliner across the room from her. “Laughed at me for worrying about her safety.”

“What would she have done?”

“She’d have done as I asked, even if she believed it was only for my own peace of mind.”

In the long silence afterward, John realized he’d breached a deadly boundary. A man with any sense never compared the woman he was seeing with an ex-wife, a former girlfriend, his mother and especially not his late wife, whom he’d loved with all his heart.

“Then for your own peace of mind,” Lynley said, her voice still soft, “you should remember I’m not your wife.” She got up and went to bed.

Early this morning he found a note slipped beneath the guest room door where he had stayed with his Glock beneath the pillow. “Just so you know,” the note said, “I’m not your wife, and you don’t have a right to tell me what to do, but I have decided to take leave until after the first of the year.”

He’d had to smother his laughter in his pillow. He’d folded the note and placed it into his billfold.

* * *

Lynley kept her mouth shut as John made two more turns. He’d been right—he didn’t need her to sit beside him and direct. The man had an excellent sense of direction. He also had a comfortable way about him. They could sit together in silence and not be uncomfortable.

She, however, grew less comfortable the closer they got to her former home. Though she knew how to handle the weapon in the glove compartment, she’d never actually had to use one for self-protection. She couldn’t go in with John, but she didn’t want to sit in the car. And why was she so uncomfortable about that? It didn’t make sense. John would be interviewing the only suspect they had, so it wasn’t as if a prospective killer would be hanging around the car.

“Hey, I have an idea,” she said. “You have your Bluetooth earpiece, right?”

He patted his pocket.

“And I have mine in my purse. Why don’t we link up? If Dodge says something untrue, I can tell you. I can follow the interview that way.”

He frowned. “Interesting thought. We might be in iffy territory, though. You’re the victim, and a victim should never be in the same room as a suspect.”

“I wouldn’t be in the same room. He might think he’s being recorded if he sees the earpiece, but he won’t know I’m on the other end.”

“Okay, get your earpiece out and call me when the time comes.”

She let out a lungful of air she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Thanks. I think I need that connection right now. I’m getting a little nervous.”

“Just remember you’ve got me right here between the two of you. He can’t get to you.”

“I know.” She always felt safe when she was with John. “Um...you remember that thing we argued about last night?”

“Which thing? We argued about more than one—”

“I’m talking about the main argument.”

“Oh, you mean the one you wrote to me about this morning?”

She giggled, an embarrassing trait she had when stressed. “I heard you laughing. I think it woke Mom up.”

“Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, John. This is all so terrifying. I might behave like a cantankerous old bull, but I’m really scared.”

He hesitated, glanced at her. “So am I.”

“Not what I wanted to hear.”

“Just being honest. We can’t predict what’s going to happen next. That’s why we have to take everything so seriously and watch our every move.”

“Yes. And I will. And you know that other...argument? You know, about my not being your...you know...your wife? I wasn’t trying to be hateful at all.”

“I knew that, Lynley.”

“It’s just that I learned at a young age not to let others control my life, and when I did, I was sorry.”

“And the reason you’re sorry is because of the person you married. Trust me, marriage to the right person? Totally different experience, I can assure you.”

Despite the fact that she’d often encouraged him to talk about his wife and his marriage, this time his remark felt a little like a jab. As if maybe she’d made the wrong choice, and that was the only chance she’d ever have. Or that maybe Sandra really was the only woman for him. Ever. She pushed away the thought.

“If you hadn’t been here yesterday,” she said, “I don’t know what I’d have done. And about the marriage thing...”

“You don’t have to explain that to me. I think we’re both on the same page with that.”

“Which would be...?”

“Which would be that I find you beautiful and exciting, Lynley.” He glanced across at her, and his foot automatically eased from the accelerator.

She stared at him with parted lips.

“You’re a definite temptation to abandon my lonely life, and I’m just now realizing how much of a temptation that is.”

She caught her breath, ready to tell him the same thing. But she let him continue.

“Several weeks before Sandra died, she told me she wanted me to find a wonderful woman, someone who would make me happy. Her final wish was for me to remarry and raise a family.”

“She was ri—”

“But I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make her final wish come true.”

Lynley couldn’t believe the sting of disappointment she felt at his words.

“We’d been trying to do just that,” he said. “Have a family. That was when we discovered her cancer.”

Lynley swallowed. Hard. There was a thickness in her throat as she thought about the pain he’d endured. It was at that moment that she realized how very much John Russell had become entangled in her heart. When she would have expected to feel jealousy over his inability to recover from the death of his dead wife, she felt as if she was sharing his pain, instead. Although she felt rejected by his words, she also ached for his awful loss.

“I hate that,” she said. Her voice caught, and she realized she was close to tears. For him. “I wish, for your sake, that Sandra had never gotten sick, that she’d lived and thrived and given you a whole house filled with happy children. I can’t imagine a single unhappy child growing up in a household with parents like you and Sandra.”

He stared straight ahead, hands turning white with his grip on the steering wheel. “Thank you, Lynley.” It sounded as if he, too, was having some difficulty with thickness in his throat.

“I mean it. I know God knows what he’s doing, but I’ll never understand all the hardships we see. Not in this lifetime.”

“While Sandra battled her cancer physically,” John said, “I joined the same battle with prayer. I can’t tell you how many times I fell asleep praying for her to heal, and then awakened with the same words on my lips.”

“But God didn’t answer your prayers.”

“Not what I’d asked for at all, no.”

Why, God?

Of course, she knew better than to ask. “God allowed me to struggle many times in my life, and made me watch Mom’s pain with my father’s behavior. It seemed to happen to me more often than with most of my friends.”

John looked at her. “But after your struggle to get past your anger, looking back you could see how you’d grown during those times.”

“How’d you know?”

“The day Sandra died,” John said, “I shut down.”

She nodded.

“I was barely able to face the funeral—all those trite, unhelpful sayings I’d once blabbered, myself, for lack of knowing what else to say. You know the words...God had another plan for Sandra...God wanted her in heaven...she was better off now...it was God’s will.”

“I know the words well,” she said softly.

“I cut myself off from friends and family. When the Russell clan started pressuring me too much to jump back into life and just ‘get past it,’ I turned off my phone and stopped answering when the doorbell rang.”

“Did you get those who’d also lost loved ones that felt the need to load you down with their stories?”

“That, too.”

“What did you do?” They’d never talked about this before. Until now, Lynley had kept the subject of Sandra’s death off-limits, just as she’d kept the subject of her father’s behavior off-limits.