No Alibi

Smith would have taken a seat beside Julie Ann if other women had not immediately crowded around her and begun chattering like a gaggle of excited geese.

Julie Ann’s name was the fifth one called. She was graceful and pretty as ever, he noted, although she looked terribly tense as she faced the attorneys, Grimes and Lazarus.

“Your name, please?” the portly Grimes asked.

“Julie Ann Jones.”

“And your residence is in Fulton County, Ms. Jones?”

“Yes. I live in Heart, off Squirrel Hill Road.”

“How long have you lived there?”

“Six years. The house was my grandfather’s.”

Smith could tell she was terribly nervous because not only was her voice shaky, she was clasping her hands together so tightly that her fingers were white against the pale blue of her dress. He didn’t doubt that she was taking this a lot more seriously than most of her peers and he feared her attitude would make her a good choice as a juror.

“Were you acquainted with the victim, Denny Hanford, Ms. Jones?”

“Sure. We were kids together and we went to the same schools. Everybody in Serenity did.”

He gestured toward the defendant’s table where an old man in an orange jumpsuit sat, his eyes downcast and shoulders slumped. “How about the accused, Lester Taney?”

“I’ve seen him around.”

As soon as Grimes said, “The people approve,” the judge addressed the defense attorney. “Mr. Lazarus? Do you have any questions for Ms. Jones?”

He shook his graying head, remembering Evans’s instructions. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his gangly neck. “None, your honor.”

“Then we have our first juror.” The judge gestured at the jury box. “Please have a seat, Ms. Jones.”

As Julie Ann took her place, her hazel gaze found Smith’s in the crowd and lingered. She reminded him of a frightened doe, frozen in the middle of the road by the headlights of an oncoming car and unable to jump out of the way of obvious danger.

And she wasn’t the only one who was on edge. Smith didn’t know why, but his senses were as heightened as if he were back in a combat zone and expecting incoming enemy fire at any second.

Three more jurors were seated before the group broke for lunch. Smith’s name had not been called so he was confident it wouldn’t be against the rules to speak to Julie Ann. Falling into step beside her, he left the courthouse with the rest of the group.

Julie Ann stretched and rubbed her neck. “I’m one big knot of tension already. I can’t imagine what the real trial will do to my nerves.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, truly commiserating. “Some of us are going to go grab a bite to eat at Hickory Station. Want to join us?”

“As soon as I check with Sherilyn and see how the shop is running without me,” Julie Ann said. “I canceled all my regulars but there are usually several walk-ins in the mornings.”

“I take it she’s doing better?”

“Yes. The funny thing is, she’s never told me why she was so upset. I expected her to explain when she showed up for work again but she’s acting as if nothing happened.”

“That’s better than leaving you in the lurch when you need to keep the shop open while you’re gone.”

“Boy, that’s the truth.”

He matched Julie Ann’s brisk pace as she crossed the courthouse lawn and then the street. They were almost to the beauty shop when Smith heard a faint crack of sound that made him jump. His military training kicked in with such force that he almost threw himself to the ground and took her with him.

Sheltering Julie Ann with his body, he shoved her through the doorway instead.

“What are you…?”

He wasn’t deterred. Nor did he quit pushing her until they were both well inside. Quickly assessing the room, he spotted the evidence of what he’d feared.

“Look. Up there,” Smith said, pointing to the shop’s front window.

Julie Ann gasped. “Oh my….”

“Somebody just took a shot at us.”

“No way.” As she started toward the front of the salon she kept peering at the tiny, round hole in the window.

Sherilyn joined her. “Whoa. Bummer. I told you those kids with BB guns were going to hit us eventually.”

Incredulous, Smith placed himself between the women and the window, facing them, his arms outstretched to form a barrier. “Stay away from the glass. I’m telling you, that’s no BB.”

“Nonsense,” Julie Ann argued. “It’s just a little bitty hole. What else could it be?”

“Small caliber. Maybe a .22,” Smith said, glancing over his shoulder. “And from the looks of the pattern, it had to have come from high up. Maybe the courthouse.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous. This is Serenity. It’s the middle of the day. Nobody would be shooting around here, let alone aiming at us.”

Smith was about to contradict her when a second bullet hit the window behind him. He’d heard that sound often enough to react without hesitation.

Launching himself at the women, he dove for the floor with an arm around each of them. Rolling as he hit, he cradled their fall with his shoulders and the momentum carried them all out of the path of the firing.

One more half-turn and he had them almost beneath the counter at Julie Ann’s station. He shoved them fully under her station, then leaped to his feet. “Stay put. Don’t move a muscle. Do you hear me?”

Not waiting for their answers, he bolted for the door, straight-armed it, and raced across the street toward the area where he was positive the shots had originated.

Julie Ann was breathless. Speechless. What had just happened? Could Smith have been right? It seemed impossible, yet he was the one with combat training and he did act totally convinced.

She peeked out far enough to look at her front window. There were two distinct holes in it now, separated by several feet. She gasped and ducked back under the counter.

Lying beside her, her employee was sobbing hysterically into cupped hands.

“It’s okay, Sherilyn. We’re fine,” she said before realizing that the girl might have been injured. “Are you okay? Did it hurt you?”

“N-no.” She stifled a sob. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. But at least nobody was hit.” It suddenly occurred to her that Smith’s back had been to the glass when it was hit the second time. She’d assumed that his actions had merely been tactical. Perhaps he had been shot! If he’d been hurt because she had failed to follow his instructions to stay away from the window, she’d never forgive herself.

Julie Ann patted the weeping girl on the shoulder as she raised up and edged partway out from under the counter. “You’ll be safe if you stay here.”

“No! Don’t leave me!”

“I’m not going far,” Julie Ann said, beginning to crawl away. “I’m just going to grab a phone to call the sheriff.”

“He must have heard the shots.”

“Not unless he was close by. I was right here and I didn’t realize what was happening.” But thank the Lord Smith did, she added silently. If he hadn’t been with them, hadn’t reacted so quickly and gotten them out of the line of fire, no telling what shape they’d be in right now. That thought tied her stomach in a knot.

She raised up just enough to reach the portable phone, grabbed it and slid back under the overhanging shelf where she displayed the shampoos and conditioners she offered for sale. Hands shaking, she punched in 9-1-1.

It seemed to take forever for the dispatcher to answer.

When someone finally said, “Nine-one-one operator. Please state your emergency,” Julie Ann was trembling so badly she could hardly get the words out.

“This—this is the Serenity Salon. We’ve been shot at,” she stammered. “Right here on Main Street. It came from the courthouse.”

“Ma’am? Are you injured?”

“No. No, we’re fine. Smith Burnett went across the street after them. Please hurry!”

“Stay right where you are and don’t hang up,” the dispatcher said. “We’re sending a unit.”

Sherilyn grabbed her arm. “What did they say?”

“To stay here and wait on the line.” Julie Ann thrust the phone at the girl. “Here. You do it.”

“Why? Where are you going?”

“After Smith,” Julie Ann said, starting to crawl away. “I’ll sneak out the back door and circle around.”

“No! Don’t go. I can’t stay here by myself. I can’t!”

“You’ll be fine. The sheriff’s office is on the phone and someone will be here in a few minutes,” she called over her shoulder.

“You’re crazy!” The younger woman was shouting, sobbing and screaming hysterically. “We’re all going to get killed—just like Denny!”

There was no way Julie Ann could force herself to sit there and twiddle her thumbs when Smith might be in worse danger. Or wounded. Or both. He could very well have been on the receiving end of that last bullet and had managed to give chase in spite of it.

That thought cut her to the quick. She hesitated only long enough to peer out the rear door, then threw it open and darted into the alleyway.

Staying close to the brick wall, she crept far enough to spy the courthouse before hesitating. A black-and-white cop car was pulling up to the front of her shop while another slid to a stop across the street. That was good enough for her.

Running, she made it across Main and reached the courthouse door mere seconds after the sheriff. His gun wasn’t drawn but he did have his palm resting on the holster.

“Smith Burnett’s in there, Harlan. Don’t shoot him,” she warned hoarsely.

He stopped, stiffened. “Get back.”

“No way.”

Although he didn’t turn, he was clearly aware of who she was because he countered with, “This is a job for me and my deputy, Miz Julie. If you get in the way I’ll arrest you. I mean it.”

She gritted her teeth. “It was my shop somebody was shooting at.”

“All the more reason to stay clear,” Harlan said. “I won’t fire unless somebody points a gun at me. I promise.”

What could she do? She’d known Harlan all her life and doubted that he’d actually arrest her if she defied him, yet anything was possible in a crisis situation. Which this clearly was, she added, chagrined.

The urge to know for sure that Smith was all right was so strong she almost entered anyway. Only the fact that he suddenly appeared at the base of the stairs leading to the upper floors stopped her.

Seeing him alive and well brought tears to Julie Ann’s eyes. She blinked them away rather than let on how moved she was. She’d made the mistake of throwing herself at the poor man once and it had taken her years to live that down. She still cherished the photo of them that had been taken at her senior prom though she rarely looked at it. Her days of mooning over the image of the handsome Marine standing beside her in his dark blue dress uniform were over.

She sobered, remembering the moment when her brother had confessed his part in arranging her prom date. Smith had been doing a favor for Ben, not escorting her because he cared for her. And, because Smith had been so polite, so gentlemanly, she had reacted as if the good-looking Marine had suddenly fallen madly in love with her.

Now, there he stood, out of breath and speaking privately with the sheriff. If he had even noticed that she was present, he hadn’t let on. Well, fine. Now that she knew Smith was all right, she’d go back to her shop and pretend she’d never left it.

Turning, she saw the idling patrol car and shivered. Since she was now thinking more clearly than she had been scant minutes ago, she realized that stepping into the street might very well make her a target. Preserving her pride was not worth that risk. She’d stay. And take the consequences. Even if Harlan didn’t arrest her she knew she was in for a talking-to because there was no way Smith would let her actions slide. Not after he’d given her specific instructions to stay put.

When she looked back and saw the fire in his eyes, she knew her assumption had been correct.

He started toward her.

Julie Ann stood her ground, chin up, spine stiff. If he asked her why she was there, she was going to tell him the truth. Well, most of it, anyway. The embarrassing details regarding her personal concern for him she’d keep to herself.

Smith was so angry, so frustrated, he almost didn’t trust himself to speak. “What are you doing here?”

“I called the sheriff and got you some help.”

“I told you to stay in your shop.”

“Did you catch the shooter?”

“No. There were a couple of shell casings on the roof but that’s all.”

“See? It was safe to come out.”

The absurdity of her statement hit him in the gut and made him want to shake some sense into her. Clenching his fists instead, he said, “You know better than that.”

“This isn’t the inner city and it isn’t a combat zone, either,” Julie Ann argued. “Lighten up, Smith.”

He took a deep breath to help him regain his composure. In a way, she was right. He couldn’t expect a civilian to understand what it felt like to come under fire; to wonder if the next second was going to bring instant death or if your buddies were going to be blown to bits right before your eyes.

Demonstrating a calmness he didn’t feel, he reached out and gently cupped her shoulder, turning and guiding her as he did so. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your shop and we can tell the deputy what we saw while Harlan checks out the courthouse.”

“I wonder why somebody is mad at me?”

Smith pulled her closer, determined to keep himself between her and any perceived threat. When he’d promised Ben that he’d look after his little sister for him, Smith hadn’t dreamed things would take such an ominous turn.

Alert and scanning everything along the street as they crossed, Smith echoed her question. Who could be doing this to Julie Ann? And why? She didn’t seem to have an enemy in the world, let alone one who would shoot at her.

Praise God they had lousy aim, Smith added, wondering if the assailant had actually meant to miss. He sure hoped so, because he couldn’t stick with Julie Ann 24/7 and if that person wasn’t caught, there was a good chance something like this would happen again. Maybe with worse results.

THREE

“I think you should tell the judge what happened,” Smith said on their way back to the courthouse after a grilling by Harlan and his deputy, Boyd.

Julie Ann rolled her eyes. “And accomplish what? Make him think I had somebody shoot my window just so I could be excused? If I hadn’t had to send Sherilyn home to calm down, the shop would still be open.”

“Well, you can’t serve and that’s that.”

She stared at him, incredulous. “What?”

“It’s going to be too dangerous.”

“Phooey. Do you think a couple of little holes in a window are going to stop me from doing what the Lord wants?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. God has nothing to do with all this.”

“Oh, no? Don’t you believe in God?”

“Sure, I do. I’m as good a foxhole Christian as the next guy. But I don’t think God is managing my whole life. That’s what He gave us brains for.”

Julie Ann shook her head and faced him, her lips pressed into a thin line, her hands fisted on her hips. “Look, Mr. Burnett, I appreciate your concern, really I do, but if the Good Lord had not wanted me on this jury, I wouldn’t have been chosen. Period. End of discussion.”

She yanked open the courthouse door before Smith could do it for her and stomped in ahead of him. She’d had her fill of being told what to do by her overbearing father. She’d been making her own choices for a long time. Good choices. Sane choices.

Praise the Lord she hadn’t been right about Smith’s amorous interest in her in the past, she added, a bit surprised by the thought. He might have many sterling attributes but he was also the kind of stubborn, domineering man she’d never allow herself to become romantically involved with, no matter what.

Naturally, her Southern upbringing and the fact that Smith was a close friend of Ben’s precluded any behavior other than absolute politeness. That did not mean, however, that she was going to be all sugary and sweet to him from now on. The gall of the man, ordering her to use the vandalism as an excuse to back out of serving on the jury.

If anything, the holes in her shop window were all the more reason why she was intent on doing her sworn duty, even if Sherilyn wasn’t able to pull herself together and come back to work after their fright.

As she entered the courtroom and took her seat in the jury box, however, Julie Ann was already having second thoughts. No matter how hard she tried to reason away the attack, someone seemed to have it in for her. Someone right here in Serenity. And the first indication of that had come right after she’d been chosen for this jury.

By the end of the first day, three men and four women had been approved by both the prosecuting and defense attorneys, though Smith had not yet been interviewed. He left the courthouse in time to watch Julie Ann dart across the street and pause long enough to unlock the front door of her salon. Someone, probably Harlan, had stuck silver duct tape over the breaks in the window. It wasn’t pretty but it seemed an adequate temporary fix.

Hesitating, Smith removed his blazer and slung it over his shoulder by one finger while he tried to decide what to do next. That woman wasn’t rational about life in general and her vulnerability in particular. Still, what could he do? He supposed he could follow her home and try to keep an eye on her from a distance.

“And get myself arrested for stalking,” Smith muttered to himself, thoroughly disgusted. “Ben would laugh his head off.”

Nevertheless, he crossed the street and circled to the rear of the salon, expecting to catch Julie Ann leaving and at least caution her again when she locked up for the day. There was one fairly new, two-door compact car parked there on a gravel pad.

He stared. Circled the parked vehicle to check further. Then, he did the only logical thing, he banged on the back door of the beauty salon with his fist.

When Julie Ann responded, he merely stepped out of the way and gestured toward the car.

She burst through the door like a shot. “My car! What happened?”

“Beats me.” Smith stood back, frowning. “Looks like somebody flattened all your tires. Has this ever happened before?”

“No. Never. They were fine when I used this door earlier. At least I think they were.” She stared at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was planning to talk some sense into you and then make sure you got home safely.”

“Why?”

“It just seemed like the right thing to do.” He wasn’t about to admit he’d begun hanging around her more as a favor to her brother and fellow Marine than because he’d actually wanted to. This task had long since progressed past that. It was his duty to look after Julie Ann. That was all there was to it.

“I’ll wait right here. Go call Harlan again,” Smith said.

To his relief, she ducked back inside and quickly re-emerged carrying a portable phone. Smith listened as she did what he’d suggested, then hung up.

“The sheriff says he’ll be right over,” Julie Ann told him with a sigh and shake of her head as she stared at the damage. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“Neither can I.” He paused, thoughtful. “I wonder if Harlan has had any other odd reports since the jury selection began.”

“I’d thought of that possible connection, too. Do you suppose this is all happening because of the trial?”

“It’s the only thing I can think of that’s changed in the past twenty-four hours.”

“I hope you’re wrong.”

Smith nodded sagely. “I hope so, too.” He looked up as the sheriff’s black-and-white vehicle cruised slowly into the alley and stopped next to Julie Ann’s car.

As Harlan got out and hitched up his gun belt, Smith decided that the portly man looked more serious than he had after they’d turned up no suspects from the first call.

The sheriff circled the vandalized car, then used his radio to request a tow truck before addressing Julie Ann.

“I’m sorry, Miz Julie,” Harlan said. “I’ll need to take your car in and get it looked at. I think the tires are okay but I’m hoping the perpetrator left fingerprints when he messed with ’em. It’s worth a closer look.” He glanced at Smith. “Will you be able to see the lady home or shall I have my deputy, Boyd, do it?”

“I’ll give her a lift,” Smith said before Julie Ann had time to object.

“Good.” Harlan looked from one to the other, settling his sober gaze on Julie Ann. “I want you to be real careful, ma’am. I’d feel a lot better if you wasn’t alone too much, if you get my drift.”

“I live alone, Sheriff,” she countered. “And I like it that way. Thank you for your concern but I can look after myself. I’ll be fine.”

Smith wasn’t anywhere near satisfied. “Okay, Harlan. What else is bothering you?”

“Besides the shooter at lunchtime you mean?” He sighed noisily, seeming reluctant to go on. Finally he said, “There was an accident up on Route 9 a little while ago. The steering failed on Estelle Finnerty’s car and she plowed into a ditch. She’s okay but she was pretty shaken up.”

Julie Ann gasped. “Estelle was chosen for Lester’s jury today—just like me.”

“That looks an awful lot like a pattern to me,” Smith said, taking note of Julie Ann’s worried look. Now that Harlan had confirmed their suspicions that jurors were being targeted, she’d have to inform the judge.

His fists clenched. If logic didn’t get through that thick skull of hers pretty soon, he didn’t know what he’d do, but somebody had to do something.

She must have seen the change in his expression because her eyes narrowed. “What?”

“It’s like this,” Smith said. “There’s a fair chance that somebody is trying to frighten jurors—or worse—and you need to take that threat more seriously than you have been so far.”

“I’m supposed to be scared of flat tires?”

“No. You’re supposed to be worried about bullet holes. Watch yourself like the sheriff says. Go stay with a friend till he can catch whoever’s behind all this.”

“I’ll do nothing of the kind.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Smith said. “In that case, you’d better get used to me or Harlan or Boyd being parked outside your house all night.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t sleep in your car.”

“I will if you force me to.”

“And you call me stubborn.”

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Smith’s neck began to prickle. He tensed, quickly scanning the area. There was no one visible except Harlan and Julie Ann, but still…

His gaze met hers. “You feel it, too, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted, although she folded her arms across her chest as if she were chilly in spite of the warm temperature.

“I think we’re being watched,” Smith said.

Harlan reacted immediately. “Both of you get in my car and wait while I lock up for Miz Julie Ann. I’ll order a drive-by patrol for here and for her house.”

Smith helped Julie Ann into the front seat of the sheriff’s car. He’d started to close the door when movement on the shop’s roof caught his eye. It was just a fleeting shadow, yet it impressed him as being the size and shape of a grown man. A potential sniper. Just like the ones he’d encountered so often in battle.

Glare from the setting sun over the top of the block building made Smith’s eyes water as he shaded them and tried to make out more details.

He had almost convinced himself that his imagination was working too hard until he looked at Julie Ann. Her hazel eyes were wide, her expression revealing. She was clearly afraid. And she was no longer trying to hide or deny it.

For the first time since she’d inherited the old, isolated farm, Julie Ann wasn’t happy to be coming home. The pastures which lay to the sides and back of her white-painted frame house seemed too wide and desolate. And the forest of oak, hickory and cedar flanking them was filled with dark, forbidding shadows. If she felt this uneasy in daylight, how was she going to feel once the sun set?