Beverly Barton 3 Book Bundle

He nodded. “First thing in the morning, I’ll fill out a VICAP form with the info about Stephanie’s and Jacque’s murders. We need to find out if there are more cases similar to Stephanie’s and Jacque’s. If there are, they could be related.”

The department had a special computer program that generated a request form with all pertinent information about a crime that linked to the FBI’s Violent Crime Apprehension Program. During her father’s last term in office, he’d been determined to bring the Adams County Sheriff’s Department into the twenty-first century.

“But I thought we agreed that this guy is local, that Stephanie knew him and trusted him. And that’s probably what happened tonight with Thomasina. She got in a car with a man she knew and trusted. If that’s the case, how is using the FBI’s VICAP going to help us figure out anything about our killer?”

“Yeah, we did agree that both Stephanie and Thomasina knew the guy who abducted them, but using the VICAP might help us figure out if this guy has lived in the area all his life and whether Jacque was his first victim. Or if he’s killed before, somewhere else, and moved here in the past year or so.”

“The county is going to be in an uproar,” Bernie said. “Unless Thomasina miraculously reappears, I’ll have no choice but to hold a press conference tomorrow. And I’m torn between cautioning women to contact us if they receive notes and presents and sketches from a secret admirer and knowing I can’t reveal too much info without jeopardizing our cases.”

Jim reached over, clamped his hand down on Bernie’s shoulder and looked right at her. “If this guy stays true to his MO and repeats the sequence of events he did with Jacque and Stephanie, we’ll have two weeks tops to find Thomasina before he kills her.”

Bernie closed her eyes and said a quick, silent prayer, pleading with the Almighty to help them. And to help Thomasina Hardy, wherever she was tonight.

Thomasina came to in a semidark room, her head pounding, her mind fuzzy.

What had happened to her? Why was she here?

Where was “here”?

She lifted her head from the pillow and at that moment realized she was lying on a bed of some kind. She tried to sit up and couldn’t.

Why couldn’t she?

She tried to lift her arms, but found that her wrists were bound together over her head. She opened her mouth to scream, but couldn’t. It was then that she knew someone had bound and gagged her, that she was totally helpless and … she turned her head to one side and looked around the small, shadowy room, lit only by the glow of what she thought was a nightlight.

She was alone. All alone.

Think, Thomasina, think!

She had been on her way to teach her Thursday evening class at the college when she’d had a flat tire. She had called her mother, who’d said she’d send Mike to fix the tire. But before Mike showed up—

Oh, God! No!

He had come along and offered to take her to the college and then go back and help Mike fix the flat. She’d had no reason to distrust him and every reason to believe she was safe with him.

He’d given her a Coke and she’d drank nearly all of it while they drove along County Road 157. All the while, she’d thought he was taking her to Adams County Junior College. They’d talked and laughed and she’d felt so completely secure and at ease with him.

But what had happened next?

She vaguely remembered feeling sleepy.

Had he put something in the cola? But how could he have? She’d seen him pop the tab on the can, hadn’t she?

She hadn’t really been paying close attention. He could have easily slipped something into the drink. He’d probably drugged her. But why?

Was he the man who’d been sending her the notes, the gifts, the sketches? Was he her secret admirer?

A surge of sheer, unadulterated fear consumed Thomasina as she lay there on the bed, in the semidarkness of a damp, silent room. Alone.

Where was he? When would he come back? What was he going to do to her?

Chapter 12 (#uf0f29a13-839e-557e-a55f-f4749208704f)

Dead on her feet, frustrated and worried sick, Bernie pulled her Jeep into her driveway at three-thirty on Friday morning. Jim sat quietly at her side, so quietly that she wondered if he’d fallen asleep on their ride back from Verona. Jim had agreed that it was best to let Kevin stay with her parents until he could pick him up this evening; he’d also readily accepted Bernie’s offer to fix breakfast for them at her house. Charlie Patterson would drive over from Huntsville and be in Jim’s office by seven, which gave Jim and her a little over three hours to rest for a while, grab a bite to eat and freshen up.

Bernie reached out, intending to gently shake Jim, but before her hand made contact with his shoulder, he grunted and turned to face her.

Her hand paused midair. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Just had my eyes closed.”

“It’s been a long night.”

He nodded.

Bernie opened the driver’s door and got out of the Jeep. She waited on the sidewalk for Jim to join her. Even this early in the morning, there wasn’t a hint of a breeze and the temperature probably hadn’t dropped below the high eighties. Alabama’s sweltering July humidity made it feel hotter than it actually was, something the weather forecasters referred to as heat indexes. When it was ninety, it often felt like a hundred.

Once inside her house, the cool air-conditioned atmosphere surrounding them the minute they entered, Bernie sighed deeply, then removed her belt and hung it on the hall tree just inside the entrance. Jim hung his belt beside hers and followed her into the living room.

“Sofa or recliner?” she asked.

“Either.”

“You take the recliner,” she told him. “My feet hit the sofa arm when I lie down, so there’s no way you can get comfortable on it.”

He sat down in the recliner, released the footrest latch on the side of the chair and propped up his big feet. “Damn, this feels good.”

Bernie kicked off her brown loafers, stacked one decorative throw pillow on top of another and laid her weary bones down on the sofa, stretching out all the way and resting her heels on the sofa arm.

“I can’t begin to imagine what Thomasina Hardy’s family is going through right now.” Bernie glanced over at Jim, who had his eyes closed. His arms rested on either side of the chair’s cushioned back, his hands cupping his head.

“Mmm … They’re wondering if they’ll ever see her alive again.”

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s too soon to make any predictions.” Jim yawned.

“Want me to shut up so you can take a nap?”

He opened his eyes, lifted his head and looked at her. “I doubt either of us can sleep. We’re too tired. Plus, we know we have to be at the office in a little over three hours.”

“I wish we had some idea where Thomasina is, where he took her. If we just had a clue of some kind, something—anything—that could help us.”

“If Ron can’t track down Professor Kelley, we might have ourselves a real suspect.” Jim yawned again. “The guy could be with Thomasina right now, hiding her away.”

“If only it could be as simple as finding him and making him talk. But we both know that just because Brandon Kelley wasn’t at home when Ron checked on him and apparently hasn’t come home yet, it doesn’t mean he abducted Thomasina or that he’s the man who’s been stalking her.”

“True. But according to her family, there hasn’t been any special guy in her life since she broke up with Ron. They have no idea who her secret admirer might be if it’s not Kelley.”