No Alibi

“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!”