Love Inspired Suspense June 2014 Bundle 2 of 2: Forced Alliance\Out for Justice\No Place to Run (43 page)

“Is something wrong?”

No. Where was it? “The note. It isn't here.”

“Come again?” Deputy MacGregor's sharp tone could have sliced through granite.

Lorie faced his unbelieving stare head-on.

“S-someone must have taken it.”

* * *

Great. Just great. Matt's day was complete. First the lead on the meth-lab investigation dried up, and now this. Missing evidence.

Matt clicked the safety on and shoved his silver Colt 1991 back into the holster with unnecessary force.

“Where was it?”

“Right there.” Lorie waved a pale, fine-boned hand over the in-box. “On top. It looked like a computer printout.”

“Laser, ink-jet
,
dot matrix?”

“Ink-jet, I think. Full color, anyway. The letters were a deep tomato-red.” Her voice wavered almost imperceptibly.

Matt took out his incident notebook and scrawled the information. “And it said...?”

“Something like ‘You won't get away with it.'”

Jen piped up, “‘Don't think you can get away with it.'”

Matt wondered whether Jen knew more about the note than she'd told Lorie. She was practically another sister to him ever since she'd married his best friend, but Matt had known her since her prankster days in junior high. Was this another one of her stunts? Matt fixed Jen with his best law-enforcement stare.

“And you know this because...?”

Jen sniffed. “I pay attention. And don't think this is some sort of ‘let's fix Matt up with the new librarian' scheme Vangie Sutherland and I cooked up. Because it isn't.”

Matt took stock of his old friend. According to J.T., she had stopped pulling pranks on people, but Matt wouldn't put writing a mysterious note as a joke past her. Still, actually threatening someone who seemed to be her friend was unlikely. And besides, she wouldn't be dumb enough to damage library property for a joke. Jen would never commit even a misdemeanor unless she'd lost her mind in the past few weeks.

Lorie appeared to be having her own doubts. Having been three grades ahead of her, Matt hadn't really known Lorie when he was growing up. She'd been one of the brainy kids, scrawny, with braces. Looked as though she'd turned out well, except for her lack of color. Closer inspection indicated her pallor hadn't come from makeup. Whether the note was legit or not, she was frightened.

“Jen couldn't have moved the note.” Lorie's voice had grown steadier. “She's been with me since I spotted the note. And you saw the window.”

Matt's old classmate nodded gravely, but she had a “so there” twinkle in her eye. This might have started as a serious call, but, from the look of things, Jen intended to go along with Vangie's eternal attempts at matchmaking. No way he'd put up with that. He'd phone J.T. and then drop by the house after work.

Matt tucked the notebook back into his pocket and turned to go.

“Aren't you going to dust for prints?” Lorie sounded disappointed. More, still frightened.

Matt looked back at Lorie. “On my way to the unit now for the kit. Be right back.”

He headed out the door to Unit 5 and took a moment to radio in a report. “Dispatch, this is MacGregor. Looks like a B and E at the library. I'm processing the scene now.”

“Ten-four, Unit 5.”

Snagging the fingerprint kit, Matt headed back toward the library. Detouring by the bathroom window, he scanned the vicinity for footprints. Nothing showed on the concrete. Little chips of metal scraped when the window had been jimmied were the sole physical evidence.

Matt frowned. The perp knew enough to be careful. That boded ill for the investigation. Very ill, indeed.

TWO

W
hen Matt returned to the library office, Jen and Lorie were tampering with the scene.

“Hey! What do you think you're doing?” Their mad scramble through papers made the answer obvious. He had to stop them before they accidentally destroyed more evidence.

“Trying to find the note.” Lorie sounded as though she were attempting to cover fear with defiance. Somehow he had to convince her he wasn't the enemy.

Her voice had that California crispness which years of watching television had led him to expect. She didn't sound like an Arkansan anymore. Matt wondered how long it would take her to get her accent back. Not that anybody local
had
an accent.... It was people in other areas.

Matt smiled at the thought, and Lorie returned it, this time minus the fear. Hello. Really great smile... Looking into her eyes like this, he hadn't expected to feel a bolt of attraction. Judging from the surprised expression on her face, he hadn't been the only one.

“Is this it?” Jen reached behind the potted sago palm in the corner. “Ouch. I always forget how scratchy that thing is.”

She stood up, bringing a sheet of paper with her. Glancing at it, Jen blanched. “Oh. No. This isn't it.”

“What did you find?” Lorie sounded hopeful.

“It isn't important.” Jen crumpled it up and started to stuff it into a pocket.

Matt held out his hand. He kept it extended, giving her one of his looks until she put the now-wrinkled printout into his outstretched palm.

The paper was an invoice for new books. Only Jen's attempt to hide it made it suspicious. One more thing to add to his list of questions for later. After a cursory inspection, he handed it back. Jen squashed it into her pocket.

“I'll need you two to clear out while I dust the office.”

Jen chuckled. “Wish you'd sweep while you're here.”

“Jen, come on.” Instead of sounding amused, Lorie's voice held a tremor.

Matt encompassed them both in a look as they moved away from the desks. “Don't leave the library. I'll call you when I'm done.”

Lorie practically shoved Jen out the door and left him to his solitary task. Outside, people moved around. Library business as usual.

Matt frowned as he dusted the in-box on the head librarian's desk. Why would anybody threaten someone like Lorie Narramore? She seemed an unlikely target. Of course, you could never tell. Anyone could have secrets.

Matt finished gathering the prints, concentrating on the job at hand so fully that Lorie's sigh startled him. He looked up to find her at the door.

“Sorry this is taking so long.”

Her answering smile was wan. “It takes as much time as it takes.”

Matt grinned, trying to make her feel better. “Most civilians don't get that.”

“I'm not most civilians.”

Why did she look so sad when she said that? There was more to Lorie Narramore than met the eye. Although
,
despite trying not to notice, he liked the parts that did meet the eye.

“I'll need to print you and Jen, too, to eliminate yours.”

Fear flashed in Lorie's eyes. Hmm. Why?

After a moment, Lorie nodded. “All right. I guess I'd forgotten that part.”

Forgotten? Interesting.

“No need to be afraid. It doesn't hurt, you know.”

“I know. It's just... Never mind.”

She knew? Matt looked into her eyes more deeply, as if he'd be able to see what was troubling her. She looked as though she felt...guilty.

“I'll just get Jen.” Lorie whirled and was gone before Matt could stop her. The idea of being fingerprinted seemed to alarm her way more than it should. He'd definitely have to do a background check on her the minute he was back at his office computer.

As Jen walked through the door, she was already speaking. “Do mine first. We have two patrons ready to check out.” She held out both hands in a parody of arrests in old police movies.

Matt grinned as he quickly took Jen's prints, teasing and joking with her all the while. When he was done, Jen walked out the office door and Lorie came back in, hesitation in every step.

Odd. He could think of only one reason why she'd be so uneasy.

“You aren't just pulling my leg with this note business, are you?”

“No.”

Lorie Narramore might not have written the note, but she felt guilty about something. He'd been in law enforcement long enough to recognize the signs. This situation was making her extremely uncomfortable, and Matt itched to know the reason why. Of course, he could just wait and run her prints. That would bring anything up through the system.

Why was he sure he'd find her there? And why did the thought bother him so much?

* * *

Lorie could almost see the wheels turning in Matt's brain. She hated the thought of telling him, but surely she didn't have to confess the whole, sordid story. Maybe she could get by with the least possible amount and still tell the truth.

“I was arrested once.” The words left Lorie's lips before she could stop them. When was she going to learn how to keep her mouth shut?

Caution mingled with curiosity in those intense blue eyes of his. “For?”

Lorie took a deep breath. “Murder.”

To do him credit, his expression grew concerned.
“I'm assuming you were released or acquitted, or you wouldn't be standing here now.”

“You don't have to tell me how blessed I was not to have been convicted, because I know. Even the thought of county lockup scares me silly.” She plucked at her light blue shirtsleeves, twisting them, just barely conscious of the action but unable to stop.

The deputy's expression grew serious. “The note—‘Don't think you can get away with it'—you think it's referring to what happened?”

“It could. I don't know.” Lorie bit her lip. “After the trial and the publicity, doing my job at home became impossible. Then the harassment started. Notes, like this. Anonymous phone calls. It went on for months. When my family told me there was an opening for head librarian here, I jumped at it.”

“Does the board know?”

Lorie nodded. “I had to give them full disclosure. It was only right, in case the bad publicity followed me. Thankfully, they decided to take a chance on me, in spite of attempts by some to quash the deal. I'm determined not to let the county down. Or my fellow librarians, either. They've stood by me from the first. They don't even think about it anymore. Only now...”

“Only now someone is making life difficult for you here.”

Lacing her fingers calmed her. “If only that's all it is. I can probably live with poison-pen letters.”

“You shouldn't have to.”

“That's where you're wrong.”

Matt instantly looked alert. “What do you mean?”

Here goes, Lord.

“The man who died?” Lorie swallowed hard. “I shot him.”

* * *

Matt's defenses clanged into place. She'd shot and killed a man?

Judge not, lest ye be judged.
The verse popped unbidden into his thoughts. Okay. There had to be extenuating circumstances. If he was patient, maybe she'd tell him.

He waited with the quiet expression that often got people to confess. Yet Lorie Narramore stood next to her desk, eyes filled with sadness, and said nothing else. Matt cleared his throat and, without stopping to reason why, pulled out one of his business cards and handed it to her just as Jen came to the door.

“In case you need anything else, my extension's on there.”

“Thank you.”

Her fingers brushed his as she accepted the card. A tingle shot up his arm. Never had Matt found keeping his professional calm such a struggle. Not good. Especially not with her confession still trembling on her lips.

“No tremble.”
Oops.
“Uh, no trouble.”

Matt fled. He made sure his steps were slow and steady, but in his heart, he knew the truth. It was flight.

He didn't feel secure again until he was safely in the patrol car.

* * *

“Well, that was certainly peculiar.” Jen stood, arms akimbo, staring at the spot Deputy MacGregor had vacated.

“What?”

“Matt. I've never seen him so bowled over. I think he likes you.”

Great. That was the
last
thing she needed. Lorie rearranged the neat piles of folders on her desk to avoid meeting Jen's eyes. “Don't be silly.”

“I'm not. I'm being practical.” Jen walked over and leaned on Lorie's desk, making herself impossible to ignore. “You're single. He's single. You're a Christian. He's—”

“Let it go, Jen. I'm not in the market for a man
.
”
Especially not one in law enforcement
.

“But he's cute.”

“So are puppies, but that doesn't mean I want another one.” Giving the folders one last tweak, Lorie straightened up. “We have a library to take care of, or have you forgotten?”

Jen sighed, but gave in. “Okay. I'll make sure nobody makes off with the teen horror books.”

“I'll be out in a minute.”

Lorie waited until Jen was gone, and then searched the tiny room from one end to the other, looking under papers, under books, anywhere the note could have gone.

After fifteen fruitless minutes, Lorie tried to dismiss the note from her mind.

Getting some of the hobby wire she kept in her desk for the summer craft program, Lorie tied up the bathroom window the best she could. Winding the wire around the handle and the broken lock might not do much to keep anyone out, but it made her feel marginally better. Still, the door had also been unlocked. Had it been from the inside out, or was the window merely a distraction? However it had happened, the intruder also had gotten access to her locked office.

A shudder took her by surprise. She reached for the phone. Paging through the phone book, she found three listings for locksmiths, one of whom had married into her family.

Even if she had to pay for the installation herself, she was getting her office lock changed and the window repaired. Today.

* * *

Matt spent the rest of his patrol trying not to think about the new librarian. Filing his report from the car's computer, he entered “breaking and entering, intimidation, stalking” in the reason-for-call box. He longed to go back to the office and see what leads he could scare up, but that would have to wait until after his patrol.

To think someone might actually have it in for Lorie Narramore gave Matt a stomachache. She seemed sweet. Of course, you couldn't always tell by looking, but Matt believed she was what she seemed to be: a victim of circumstances forced into taking a life. It was obvious the experience still weighed on her, and he hated the thought that someone was deliberately making it worse.

Driving back on his normal patrol route through the lunch break traffic, he wondered where the new librarian went to church. Or whether she went to church. If she didn't, he had one more reason not to consider seeing her socially after this case was closed.

He knew from experience that a relationship where faith wasn't shared would only lead
him
astray. Back in high school, he'd been more optimistic. Lorene had been so vulnerable, so sweetly tempting that he'd ignored everything he'd ever been taught. She'd ended up breaking his heart, and he had no guarantee “Lorie” Loretta Narramore was any different from “Lorie” Lorene O'Hara.

Nope. He had to keep his head on straight and his heart under control. There was no way he was allowing another attractive Lorie to get under his skin and wreck his good judgment. The first one had nearly ruined his life.

The radio crackled. “Unit 5, there's a fender bender on Highway 21. What's your location?”

Matt grabbed the mike and keyed it. “Dispatch, I'm eastbound on Hackberry approaching the intersection of Van Buren.”

Another burst of static... “Paramedics are already at the scene, but we need you for crowd control.”

“On my way.”

Matt switched on the lights and siren and was at the scene in less than three minutes. Setting up orange traffic cones and diverting cars to an alternate route helped to get his mind off the librarian. He managed not to think of her for at least ten minutes, until the paramedic van took off for Lucius Dainger Memorial Hospital in nearby West Bluff.

As he put the stacked cones back into the trunk, another memory of Lorie Narramore drifted up from his memory. She'd been in the Diamondback Marching Band, playing the glockenspiel on the edge of the gridiron, when a tackle had tumbled him into the band. He'd ended up knocking her over and helping her up. Her glasses had rendered her light brown eyes enormous. Hmm. She wasn't wearing glasses these days, but her eyes were still amazing.

What was it about Lorie Narramore? He wasn't the kind of bachelor who was drawn to every attractive female in sight. Especially one who by her own admission had shot and killed a man. It wasn't damsel-in-distress syndrome, either. He had the impression she could handle herself in a tricky situation. So why exactly was he having trouble concentrating on work?

Maybe it was because someone had threatened the librarian. Once he ran the prints, maybe he could match them up with someone in AFIS and this case would be over.

Unfortunately, when he got back to the station, the prints from the office were not in AFIS. Lorie's prints, however, brought up a large file.

Her mug shot looked strained rather than fearful or defiant. Huge purple shadows bordered her eyes. Her mouth was drawn.

The case had been through the San Diego County courts last year and had made quite a splash. Matt was surprised that it hadn't made the local news, but if it had, he'd missed it.

Grayson Carl, the man Lorie had shot, was a suspected drug lord, with ties to a network in Colombia and Panama. If she'd been sent to prison, the Orgulloso cartel would have had her assassinated before the year was out. Could they have been the ones behind the harassment in San Diego—and today's note?