Beverly Barton 3 Book Bundle

“Call over to Taylor’s Wrecker Service,” Jim said. “Have them see if the car will start, and if not, why not?”

“Oh shit,” Bernie cursed under her breath.

“What is it, Sheriff?” Charlie asked, a hint of a smile curving the corners of his mouth.

“You know damn well what it is.” She glared from Charlie to Jim. “Why would a woman not drive her own car? Why would she accept a ride from someone else? Because her car wouldn’t start.”

“Yep.” Charlie’s smile widened.

“Our guy deliberately put Stephanie’s car out of commission, then he waited around to play Good Samaritan when her car wouldn’t start.” Bernie gritted her teeth and groaned. “Ooh … She knew him. Whoever he is, Stephanie knew him and trusted him enough to accept a ride with him.”

“That narrows down our field of suspects to probably at least a fourth of all the men in Adams and Jackson counties,” Hensley said.

“Maybe so, but it also means our guy is probably still around, that he either lives in Adams County or in one of the neighboring counties, that he’s probably a native.” Jim tapped his fingers against the desktop again. “And if he enjoyed what he did to Stephanie, it’s probably only a matter of time before he chooses a second victim.”

“I agree,” Charlie told him. “But that’s assuming Stephanie Preston was his first victim.”

“Are we back to the serial killer theory?” Hensley asked.

“Yeah,” Jim said. “So Lieutenant, I’d like for you to put in a call to the sheriff’s departments of all the neighboring counties within a hundred-mile radius and find out if there’s been another murder similar to Stephanie’s within the past six months. No, make that the past year.”

When Thomasina arrived home, she called out to her mother, who was in the kitchen. “Mom, I’ve got a headache. I’m going to my room to lie down for a while. I don’t think I’ll want any supper.”

As she headed toward her room, she heard the kitchen door open. Please, don’t let her follow me and try to talk tome.

“You got a package,” her mother said. “I found it in the mailbox with today’s mail, but there wasn’t any postage on it. That’s odd, don’t you think?”

A package? Another present from Brandon? “What did you do with it?”

“I put it on your dresser.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Want me to bring you some aspirin?”

“No, I’ll get some if lying down doesn’t help.”

Thomasina rushed into her room, closed the door behind herself quickly and went straight over to her dresser. The package, about twelve inches square and four inches deep, had been wrapped in plain brown paper and sealed with clear, wide tape. She moved close enough so that she could see her name printed in large black block letters across the top. No return address, and no postage. He had brought the gift by and left it sometime today. But when? Was it possible that Scotty Joe had been wrong about Brandon leaving with Robyn Granger at lunchtime today?

No, it’s not possible. Scotty Joe wouldn’t have lied to me.

She knew Brandon and Robyn had indulged in an on-gain, off-again affair, but she’d assumed it was over, that Brandon was now ready for real love. Had she been wrong? Had he and Robyn made love this afternoon?

Was he simply playing her for a fool, sending her love notes and presents, luring her to him, when all she meant to him was just another conquest?

When had he made the time to drive all the way over here to Verona? Or had he gotten someone else to drop off this new gift? She skimmed the top of the package with nervous fingers. What had he sent her this time?

Open it and find out.

She’d need a pair of scissors.

As if it were fragile, perhaps even explosive, Thomasina picked up the parcel and carried it with her to her bed. She sat on the edge, deposited the package in her lap, and then rummaged in her nightstand drawer for a pair of scissors. For several minutes, she sat there, the wrapped box in her lap and the scissors in her hand, and thought about what a miserable afternoon she’d had. It had been all she could do to get through the two classes without crying. If it hadn’t been for Scotty Joe’s kindness at lunchtime, she wasn’t sure she could have made it through the rest of the day. He hadn’t mentioned Brandon again; instead, he’d entertained her with jokes and cute stories about the kids he met through his work with the Drug Abuse Resistance Education program. And he’d insisted she eat one of the scrumptious but fattening brownies from Cummings Bakery.

“You don’t need to worry about calories,” he’d told her. “You’re just the right size.”

She had eaten every morsel of the delicious brownie and enjoyed it immensely. By the time she had washed down the last bite with her cola, she had been able to smile. Of course, once lunch ended and she and Scotty Joe went their separate ways, all the jealous thoughts about Brandon and Robyn came rushing back, flooding her mind with images of the two of them making love.

You cannot assume Brandon is guilty. Not without proof.You have to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Grasping the scissors in her right hand, she cut the tape holding the brown paper in place; then she removed the paper to reveal a white box. She tossed the paper aside and lifted the lid on the box. Inside she found white tissue paper covering the contents, which she promptly removed. She picked up the first two items—a bottle of pink nail polish and a tube of matching lipstick. Holding one item in each hand, she inspected them. Revlon items that could be purchased at Wal-Mart or Kmart or the local drugstore.

Thomasina laid the nail polish and lipstick on her pillow, then searched deeper into the box. She removed two envelopes. She felt certain the smaller one contained a note and the larger one possibly held another sketch.

She opened the note and read it. Then read it again.

You’re more beautiful in pink than in any other color. Will you wear pink for me, my darling Thomasina?

Tears lodged in her throat.

She placed the note alongside the nail polish and lipstick, then ripped open the large white envelope and pulled out the sketch.

“Oh my God!”

It’s me, and yet it’s not me. It’s my face and the body issimilar to mine, but—

She stared at the ink sketch of her standing in a very sensual pose, her hair falling over one shoulder and almost touching the top of her naked breast. Her nipples were tight. Thomasina’s gaze moved from the obviously tight nipples down over her navel to the hand that covered her mound.

He’s drawn me naked and aroused.

Oh, Brandon, what kind of game are you playing? If I’mthe woman you want, why did you go off with Robyn today?Why didn’t you come looking for me to see if I was wearingyour pearls?

Tears streamed down Thomasina’s face as she curled up in a fetal ball in the middle of her bed, the ink sketch crushed in her tight fist.

Bernie rubbed the back of her neck as she stretched her other arm over her head. Ron had already left for the day and Charlie had just said he was going to head back to the Adams Landing Hotel down the street.

“I need to call Jen and check on the girls, see if anybody else has come down with that stomach virus,” Charlie said. “If Jen’s gotten it, I’ll head on home tonight. Otherwise, I’ll stay in town and try to get a good night’s rest.”

“See you in the morning,” Jim said.

“Yeah, let’s make it eight o’clock tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

Charlie patted Bernie on the back as he headed for the door. She offered him a smile and then turned to Jim. “It’s been a long day.”

“Yes, it has.”

She wanted to ask him if he had plans for supper tonight, but she wasn’t willing to risk making a fool of herself. After all, she figured Jim Norton was the type who did the asking—if he wanted to spend time with a woman.