No Place To Run. Marion Faith Laird

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ perp to hang around and enjoy seeing the victim’s reaction. Pitt was the only one around. What if he’s the one behind the notes at the library?”

      “And you’re basing this suspicion on...?”

      “Proximity. And he’s run into some conflict with the librarians lately when he insisted that they order pro-Nazi literature. Maybe he doesn’t like that they challenged his authority. Something to scare Lorie—Miss Narramore—might be his way of getting her back under his thumb.”

      “If he is responsible, we’ll get him. In the meantime, you do your investigating quietly, from a distance. All right?”

      “Yes, sir. And, sir...do you know Lorie Narramore’s family?”

      “I surely do. Her dad, Ben, and I play golf together and share a men’s Bible study class at church. I don’t really know Lorie, but I heard about the trouble she had out in California.”

      “She admitted to me she shot Carl.”

      Frank nodded. “When you read the file, you’ll find all the extenuating circumstances that brought back the justifiable homicide ruling. I’m glad you’re being thorough.” After a moment’s hesitation, Frank motioned for Matt to take a seat.

      “You’ve already printed the note.”

      Matt nodded.

      “Let’s see it.”

      It was in the file he was carrying, so Matt passed the note, securely sealed in an evidence bag, to his boss.

      “Plain and to the point. This is bound to be driving her nuts.” Frank’s expression was grave.

      “She did seem frightened. I thought when I first showed it to her that she might faint, but she held up.”

      “If she’s anything like her dad, she’ll be made of strong stuff. Looks as if that’s going to be needed.” Frank stood. “Keep an eye on her, Matt. I have an uncomfortable feeling this may be just the beginning.”

      * * *

      All Lorie wanted to do was forget the hateful note, but thoughts of it plagued her on the drive home from Daingerville. Before she hit the curves on Highway 21, she switched on the radio. Dainger County’s own KDNJ sent a bouncy bluegrass tune into the updated classic Mustang. Lorie would have preferred silence, but her brain was too active for comfort.

      After-work traffic made the drive home a challenge. The narrow two-lane highway was long overdue for major work, but Dainger County was low on the Arkansas Highway Department’s upkeep list.

      Thanks to all the traffic crowding her, Lorie was nearly to Buffalo Crossing before she noticed the car sticking close to her bumper. The heavily tinted windows of the Chevy Camaro looked out of place. She’d seen them often in San Diego, but seldom since returning to Arkansas. She tried to see if the black car had a front plate that might indicate if it were from out of state, but the driver stuck too close for that.

      Tailgaters. It’d serve him right if I jammed on my brakes.

      She’d never do that on purpose. She loved her car too much.

      Maybe the driver just liked muscle cars, or was crowding in on her because he resented the traffic and poor road conditions slowing him down. Maybe. Or maybe not.

      Lord, please, if he means any harm, stop him.

      Heart racing, Lorie jabbed at the radio and shut it off. Light and shadow filtering through the branches made the road flicker like an old movie. Ordinarily, the wavering light didn’t bother her, but her tailgater was making the drive extra nerve-wracking.

      The Camaro edged closer as some of the traffic turned onto Highway 48 to Steeleytown. Lorie glanced in the rearview mirrors again. The car looked mean.

      Don’t let me panic. Lorie swallowed hard, fighting the rapid breathing that came with the adrenaline rush.

      She couldn’t let this clown follow her home. Not after the second note. Senses on high alert, billions of nerve-endings prickled her skin as the black car stuck to her bumper.

      As she started down Rattlesnake Hill, the car edged over the double yellow line.

      No, he can’t pass me. Not here!

      A booming blast from an approaching semi’s air horn forced the car behind her again. Lorie’s heart raced. One more trick like that and he’d shove her off the hill.

      Not taking any chances, hands clutching the wheel, Lorie concentrated on getting back onto mostly flat ground. If she could just make it to Cartwright, she could pull into the bank’s parking lot and let this road hog have the whole highway. Unless he wasn’t just a road hog...

      Show me what to do, Lord.

      Slowing as she wound around the hill bordering the eastern end of Cartwright Valley, Lorie drove into the small village, pleased to note that the car behind her eased off the gas, falling back.

      Lorie turned into the bank’s parking lot. As the car started to follow her, the town’s lone black-and-white pulled to a stop at First Street. Lorie’s heart pounded as the Camaro’s driver headed on down the highway. She checked the license plate, but it was covered in an uncharacteristic amount of mud. No way to tell whether it was an Arkansas plate or not.

      As the black-and-white settled in to watch for speeders, Lorie waited to let all the after-work traffic pass. After twenty cars and trucks had come down the hill, slowing noticeably as they spotted the police car, Lorie turned back into traffic.

      Exhaustion tugged at her. She wasn’t far from the turnoff to Wolf Hollow. Only a few more miles, and she’d be home.

      For the rest of the drive, she scrutinized the traffic ahead of her, fearful of spotting her tailgater. When she reached AR Highway 14, she turned onto it without signaling. The small highway was practically empty.

      She’d escaped.

      Lorie slowly let out her breath. Most likely the driver had just been impatient, and glad to get out from behind her. That must be it. No connection between the tailgater and the missing library note.

      If she could manage to convince herself of that, she’d sleep a lot better tonight.

      After feeding her menagerie, Lorie debated whether or not she was too shaken to attend prayer meeting at Wolf Hollow Community Church. Everyone would understand if she didn’t show up, knowing how exhausting her job could be. Still, she hated to miss it. Physically, she was well enough to attend, and spiritually, she needed all the help she could get.

      Deciding she needed the fellowship more than rest, if she even could relax after being nearly run off the road, Lorie locked the dog and cats securely in the house and headed for the small town she called home.

      Few people attended prayer meeting these days, but the ones who did were solid. Of the half dozen couples in attendance, one was her cousins the Tubbys, Tammy and her locksmith husband, Ike, whom Lorie hadn’t been able to reach on the phone the previous day. Tammy pulled out a chair at the table in the fellowship hall. Lorie headed toward them, a human homing pigeon.

      Tammy reached over and gave СКАЧАТЬ