Beverly Barton 3 Book Bundle

It wasn’t that Jim didn’t like Robyn. He did. But he’d been badly burned by one extremely high-maintenance woman and tended to steer clear of others like her. Then again, he might make an exception where Robyn Granger was concerned.

Just as Jim took his first bite of scrumptious pie, Bernie’s cell phone rang.

“Oh dear, I wish you could turn that thing off at the dinner table.” Brenda sighed. “But I know you can’t, your being the sheriff and all. You’d think I’d be used to having my dinners interrupted by business calls.”

Bernie scooted back her chair, stood and walked out into the foyer. Jim glanced over his shoulder and watched her as she paced back and forth, doing more listening than talking.

Robyn said something to him, but he didn’t understand her because he was too busy keeping an eye on Bernie. “Huh?”

“I said why don’t we—”

“Jim, we’ve got to go,” Bernie called to him from the doorway.

When he turned to Robyn, she put on her best little-girl pout. “Business calls,” he told her, then laid his napkin on the table, shoved back his chair and stood. “Mrs. Granger, thank you for a wonderful dinner. I appreciate y’all being so hospitable.”

“You must come back again,” Brenda said. “We’d love to have you any old time.”

R.B. stood. “I’ll walk you and Bernie out.”

R.B. caught up with Jim just as he joined Bernie in the foyer. “So, what’s up?” he asked.

She looked from Jim to her father, then replied to her father’s question. “That was Charlie Patterson. They’ve found Richie Lowery.”

“This is the Preston girl’s old boyfriend, right?” R.B. asked.

Bernie nodded.

“Where was he?”

“I don’t know. It seems he heard we were looking for him, so he just showed up at my office about ten minutes ago.”

“So he hadn’t skipped out on us like we thought when we couldn’t find him at home yesterday and nobody seemed to know where he was,” Jim said.

“No, apparently not,” Bernie replied, then turned to her father. “Dad, we have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sure, sure. You two go on.”

Once outside, Bernie quickened her steps, as if she couldn’t wait to get away.

“Hey, hold up,” Jim called to her.

She slowed her pace and waited for him.

“Your car or mine?” he asked.

“Yours. There are several others blocking me in.” She glanced at all the vehicles parked in the drive and along the street. Her gaze paused on the old rattletrap truck parked on the street. “Is that yours?”

“Yep.”

“Didn’t they pay you a decent salary in Memphis?” she asked teasingly.

“Better than what you’re paying me,” he tossed back at her. “But until my wife remarried, I was paying her alimony, as well as child support. Add to that the fact that I’m socking away as much as I can for Kevin’s college fund and… you do the math.”

She headed toward his truck. When she reached the curb and started to open the door, he reached around her and opened it for her. She jumped.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he told her.

Hoisting herself up and into the cab, she replied, “Don’t apologize for being a gentleman. It’s just that most of my deputies bend over backward trying to treat me like just one of the guys.”

“Hmm …”

After closing her door, he rounded the hood and got in on the driver’s side. As he started the engine, he caught a glimpse of Bernie in his peripheral vision. She sat there beside him, belted in, her back ramrod straight and her gaze fixed straight ahead, as if she saw something interesting on the other side of the windshield.

“Is your sister involved with anybody?” Jim asked.

Bernie didn’t respond immediately. Why was she giving her answer so much thought? Why not a simple yes or no response? Finally, after taking a deep breath, she told him, “Robyn’s not dating one person in particular.”

“Hmm …”

“I don’t think she’s ready for anything serious, but she can’t convince our mother. Weren’t you aware that there were two single men, other than you, at dinner today? Mama would like to fix me up with Raymond, and she had high hopes of putting Robyn with the new preacher, but it seems my little sister is more interested in you.” Bernie snapped her head around and looked right at Jim. “And apparently the interest is mutual.”

“Then you wouldn’t have a problem with my asking your sister out?”

“No, why should I?”

“Conflict of interest. My being your chief deputy and her being your sister.”

“Captain Norton, you are free to date anyone you choose and that includes my sister.”

Richie Lowery was short and stocky with curly brown hair. His voice was slightly high pitched, and at the moment the guy was more than a little agitated. He clenched and un-clenched his hands as he stared at the sketches laid out on the table in front of him and a fine sheen of perspiration moistened his upper lip. Of course, it was July in Alabama and everyone sweated in this oppressive heat.

“You think I drew these?” He chuckled nervously. “I can’t draw a damn stick figure. Ask anybody who knows me. I don’t have a bit of artistic talent.”

“If that’s the case, then why did Stephanie Preston think you sent them to her?” Jim posed the question from where he stood on the other side of the table. Charlie Patterson sat at the end of the table and Bernie stood in the corner, observing.

“How should I know? Besides, you just got her husband’s word for it that Stephie thought I was the one sending her all that stuff.”

“Are you saying you think Kyle Preston is lying?” Jim asked.

“Hey, I don’t know. All I know is that I didn’t draw them damn lewd pictures or take snapshots of Stephie or send her notes and little presents.” Richie faced Jim boldly. “I haven’t been pining away for her or nothing like that. I’ve got a girlfriend. She lives in South Pittsburgh. That’s where I was yesterday and last night. If you don’t believe me, you can ask her.”

“If that’s the case, then why didn’t your parents or any of your buddies know where you were?” Charlie asked.

Richie focused on the ABI agent. “Look, my folks wouldn’t approve of my girlfriend. She’s … well … she’s not white, and my old man would beat the shit out of me if he knew I was dating a black girl.”

Jim cleared his throat. “Where were you the night Stephanie was kidnapped? And where were you the day she was killed?”

“When was she kidnapped exactly?”