My Deadly Valentine (2 page)

TWO

J
ace wasn’t too concerned about the strange package at the card store. After all, it hadn’t been physically damaging, nor did it show much imagination. Anybody could send dead flowers as a sick joke. Considering the kinds of heinous criminal acts he’d faced in L.A., this one was little more than a nuisance.

His thoughts carried him back to the look on Rachel’s face when she’d read that cryptic note. There had been an unguarded moment of fear before she’d carefully schooled her features to appear less concerned.

What was she hiding? And why? Surely she couldn’t be involved in anything serious. According to Sheriff Allgood, there was little crime in Serenity and what there was, was quickly dealt with. There had only been one murder in the past three years and that crime had been solved, which told Jace that the town was about as peaceful as anyone could hope for.

He shivered. Images of his last gun battle, the one that had changed his life, flashed into his mind. He and his partner, Roy, had been patrolling an alley behind a hotel when Roy had informed him that he was going to marry the woman Jace had courted for nearly a year. Shocked and saddened, Jace had not been at his best when shots had whistled over their heads moments later.

“Duck!” Roy had shouted, grabbing his arm and dragging him behind a trash bin.

Jace crouched instinctively and drew his gun. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know. Second story, I think. Keep your head down and cover me. I’ll go around and come in the back.”

Nodding, Jace tightened his grip on his pistol. His head was spinning. All he could think about was Sandra. With Roy. As a couple. And he was left out in the cold.

More shots echoed between the tall buildings. Jace tensed, looking for the source and preparing to return fire.
There. Third window from the corner.
He raise his arm and aimed.

Just then, another shooter entered the scene. Roy fell. And Jace froze, incredulous, for what seemed like an eternity. It was long enough for him to be wounded, too.

Later, when his shoulder had been bandaged and his partner had regained consciousness in the hospital, with Sandra holding his hand and weeping over him, Roy had assured Jace that there was nothing Jace could have done to prevent their injuries.

Jace hadn’t been sure then and he was no more positive now. Still, the incident had served a purpose. It had demonstrated without a doubt that Sandra loved Roy. And it had given Jace a reason to change jobs, to simplify his life as well as move across the country to escape constant reminders of his lost love.

He paused in the street and glanced back at the card shop. If he were looking for a new relationship, he’d certainly be interested in getting to know Rachel better.

Good thing for him he was cured of any romantic tendencies, he thought cynically as he turned away, because that was one attractive lady.

The last thing Rachel wanted to do was report more problems to the sheriff. Unfortunately, it looked as if she was going to have to do exactly that. When she went to hang up her jacket and check the security of her back door the next morning, she found pry marks on the frame, the lock sprung and the door sagging open on damaged hinges.

“This is getting disgusting,” she muttered, grabbing her cell phone.

A male voice answered, “Sheriff’s office. What’s your emergency?”

“This is Rachel Hollister. The back door of my store has been forced open.”

“Where are you now?”

“Standing here, looking at it. Why?”

“Don’t go inside. Whoever’s responsible may still be there.”

That had not occurred to her. “Too late. I’m already inside.”

“Well get out. Now. We’ll send a man right over. And stay on the line with me if you can. Are you on a cell or a landline?”

The command to remain connected hardly registered. She ended the call automatically as she gaped at the damaged door. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the storeroom seemed ice-cold in spite of the fact that she had worn a short-sleeve sweater to work instead of a blouse or T-shirt.

“That’s because it’s only thirty degrees outside and that broken door is open,” she assured herself, rubbing her prickling forearms.

She supposed she should just step away from there, although she had already traversed the entire length of the store, turning on lights and preparing for the day’s business, so what would be the point of running away? And from what? Boogeymen? Invisible adversaries?

“If there was a burglar in the shop, I sure didn’t see him,” she murmured.

A tremor raced up her spine and ended by needling the fine hairs on the nape of her neck. “But maybe he saw me.”

That was all the incentive she needed to get moving. Rushing out into the alley, she didn’t look behind her until she had reached the street in front of the store.

A patrol car was already pulling up to the curb. She was certain that the same good-looking officer as before was driving. He pretty much had to be unless Harlan Allgood, the sheriff, had decided to handle the call himself. She hadn’t cared for Boyd, Harlan’s previous deputy, because she’d considered him lazy and inept. This one, however, seemed far too gung ho. Judging by the way he was behaving as he got out of the car, he must be expecting to face public enemy number one!

He motioned her out of the way. His brow was knit and his eyes narrowed. He drew his gun, holding it at the ready and never taking his eyes off the storefront. Considering his formidable presence and keen concentration on the task at hand, Rachel was very glad she was one of the good guys.

Pausing at the door before pushing it open, Jace asked over his shoulder, “What did you see, exactly?”

“Just that the back door had been jimmied.” She held her arms tightly against the cold—and against the thought that some criminal was targeting the poor little card shop.

“Nobody inside?”

“Not that I saw. I came all the way through…”

His brows arched. “You did
what?
”

“The same thing I do every day. I unlocked the front door, turned on the lights and went to leave my purse and coat in the back room. That’s when I saw the damage and called the sheriff.”

“And you left by that back door?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that was
one
smart move, at least.”

“Hey, if they’d posted a sign on the door that they were busy robbing the place, I’d have stayed outside,” she snapped in reaction to his critical tone. “When you catch the folks who are doing this stuff, warn them to be more courteous in the future, will you?”

“Sorry. You’re right. I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

“Neither do I. I want peace and quiet. Think you can help with that?”

“I hope so. Stay here while I go check inside. When I’m finished, I’ll come back for you and we’ll walk through it again, together, so you can see if anything has been moved or stolen.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.” She noted that he seemed relieved by her quick agreement. The worrisome part of their conversation was his implication that she might have been in the actual presence of one or more thieves while innocently opening the store.

That notion gave her the shivers even more than the cold morning temperature and damp air and she hugged herself tightly. It was as if the eyes of a thousand enemies were upon her. Watching. Menacing. Waiting for her to relax and let down her guard so they could pounce.

Nervous beyond logic, she glanced up and down the familiar street. Nobody strange was hanging around as far as she could tell. There was the usual early activity in and out of the bakery as folks grabbed a quick cup of coffee and pastry. Someone was delivering that day’s newspapers to the rack across the square. And the regular maintenance man was using a noisy leaf blower to clear dried leaves off the sidewalk and out of the flower beds around the courthouse. All in all, it just looked like another peaceful day in paradise.

The frightening thing was Rachel’s certainty that tranquility was nothing more than an illusion.

As Jace made his way slowly up and down the aisles of the small shop, he kept his gun in hand. He doubted the perpetrators were still there but as long as there was a slight chance, he planned to be ready.

Finally satisfied that all was well, he holstered the weapon, returned to Rachel and pushed open the door. “You can come in now. There’s no sign of whoever broke in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. You’ll have to get a locksmith to repair that back door today though. I couldn’t make it catch.”

“Okay. What now?”

He stepped aside for her to pass. “Now, we go over the store bit by bit and you tell me if anything is missing or damaged.”

“Okay. Give me a second to grab my coat from the back room, will you? I’m freezing.”

Accompanying her, he stayed close, just in case. When they reached the storeroom she stopped so abruptly he almost bumped into her. “What’s the matter?”

Rachel pointed. Her hand was shaking. “My—my jacket,” she said in a near whisper. “I always hang it right there on that hook.”

“I don’t see any coat,” Jace said, scowling and peering at the spot in the corner she was indicating.

“That’s what I mean,” she replied. “It’s gone. You know what that tells us?”

“Yes.” Nodding, he braced himself and pivoted to recheck every corner, every possible hiding place. When he saw the young woman sway slightly, he took her elbow to steady her. “Are you all right?”

“No. I’m not all right,” Rachel said. “I’m terrified. They were still here when I came in. It wasn’t just my imagination. They had to be watching my every move.”

THREE

“P
raise the Lord, Mrs. McCafferty isn’t due to come to work till ten,” Rachel told Jace. “Eloise isn’t nearly as resilient as she pretends to be and I don’t want to frighten her needlessly.”

“Did she have trouble like this in the past?”

“Not that I know of.” It had been Rachel’s fondest hope that she could relieve her old friend and mentor of a lot of the stress she’d been dealing with lately, but troubling events like the one this morning were not going to be easy to tone down or cover up.

Another thought popped into Rachel’s head and made her shudder and whisper, “Please, God, don’t let Harlan tell my father what’s been going on or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I beg your pardon?” Jace was scowling at her.

“I was just imagining what my dad’s reaction to all this would be. Like I said before, he’s the reason I don’t particularly take to cops.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yes, I suppose it is. I know everyone is not like him. It’s just a hang-up I happen to have. No offense meant.”

“None taken.” Jace continued to scan the dimly lit room. “Are there any more lights back here or is this the best it gets?”

“I have another bank of overheads. Just a sec. I’ll turn them on.”

Reaching behind a stack of unopened stock, she started to flip the switch. Her fingers brushed something fine, like a spider web, and she recoiled with a sharp intake of breath.

Jace was immediately at her side. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“A web, I think. It startled me, that’s all. I was bitten by a brown recluse spider last year and it was not a pleasant experience. I had to take antibiotics for weeks.”

“I don’t doubt that.” He shifted the top box until they could both peer at that portion of the wall. Instead of a real spider-web, they found a mass of gossamerlike threads arranged in a loose pattern across the switch plate.

Rachel leaned closer. “That looks like the stuff they make fake webs out of in the movies.”

“Sure does.” He was sweeping it away with the end of his baton to reveal a scrap of paper that was taped to the wall behind it.

When Rachel reached for it, he stopped her. “Don’t touch that.”

“Why not? You said you didn’t find any fingerprints on the last note.”

“No, but there’s tape on this one,” Jace said. “It’s possible that your stalker left a print on the sticky side of that.”

Rachel’s eyes widened. She stared at his face. There was no sign that he was exaggerating, nor was there even a hint that he might be joking. “A
stalker?
You think that’s what’s going on?”

“I don’t know. It just seems to me that this whole series of attacks is directed at you, rather than at the shop.”

For the first time since she’d received the dead flowers the day before, she was ready to admit a possible pattern. Could he be right?

“I want to at least get close enough to read that note,” she said flatly. “I won’t touch it. I promise.”

To her relief, the broad-shouldered officer gave ground and allowed her to step nearer to the paper, although he didn’t walk away.

She leaned in past him, sensing his protective presence and surprisingly glad for it. The scrawled, printed words came into focus. She swayed when she read.

You are just like the black widow, my darling Rachel.

But I will kill you before you can kill me.

Jace took her arm and steadied her. “See what I meant? This isn’t about the card shop. It’s personal.”

“I—I can see that now.” She raised her gaze to his and was struck by the empathy there. “What can I do? What
should
I do?”

“You can start by telling me who’s so mad at you that they’re going to all this trouble,” he said.

“I don’t have a clue.”

“How about ex-boyfriends?”

“I have one, Lance Beech, but he shouldn’t be upset. Breaking off our relationship was as much his idea as it was mine.” She paused. “He has been saying some unkind things about me to our mutual friends. You know, like sour grapes. But he’d never resort to this kind of harassment. I know he wouldn’t.”

“What about others?”

Rachel sensed that he was assessing her, judging her honesty. “Nobody serious. My dad keeps trying to fix me up with men of his choosing but I refuse to go out with any of them.”

“Yet he keeps insisting? Why?”

She huffed in disgust. “Once my father gets it into his head that he’s going to handle something his way, there’s no stopping him. He’s always treated me as if I was less than competent. When he learns there’s a crime involved here, he’ll probably camp on the doorstep of the shop and scare away what few customers I have left.”

“Maybe he’s just looking out for you.”

“Not in my opinion. That’s one of the reasons I stuck with Lance Beech for way too long and ended up hurting his feelings when I didn’t mean to. As long as Lance was in the picture, Dad backed off and let me live my own life.”

“You don’t like any of his choices? Maybe you just need to give a few of the guys a fair chance. You know. Get to know them.”

Rachel bristled. “Now you’re starting to sound just like Dad. Some of the men he’s suggested recently are so unsuitable I’m beginning to wonder if he’s actually trying to help or just make sure I’m single forever.”

Jace chuckled, making her even more irate.

“I hardly think it’s funny,” she declared.

“I’m not laughing at what he’s been doing, it’s your reaction to it that’s so hilarious.”

“Ha-ha.” Rachel straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. Truth to tell, if her father suggested she date any particular man, it was akin to waving a red flag in front of an angry bull. There was no way she was going to agree. Period. Why, she’d sooner date this new cop than accept any of her father’s choices.

That notion made her grind her teeth. Date a cop? No way. Not in a million years. She didn’t care if he was the best-looking man she’d met in ages—which he was. His occupation would never allow her to see him as anything but a clone of her father and that was enough to keep her from letting him get too close.

Although he did seem to be the current answer to her problems, that didn’t mean he’d ever be anything more. She’d see to that.

Glancing back at the note taped to the wall, she shivered. She might not want to get to know this officer personally but it sure was nice to have him standing so close and ready to come to her defense. This was the second time her unknown nemesis had mentioned death. Under those circumstances she’d be a fool to purposely push away the one man who was poised and able to protect her.

Rachel managed to squeeze out a smile, realized how lopsided it was, and laughed at herself.

“That’s better,” Jace said. “I was wondering how long you were going to stay mad at me.”

“I’m more mad at myself than I am at you,” she admitted ruefully, eyeing the broken door. “I don’t suppose you can hang around till I can have that repaired?”

“I’ll do better than that. Get me a few tools and I’ll fix it for you, at least temporarily.”

“Is that allowed? I mean, you are on duty.”

“I’ll be securing a crime scene,” he said with a grin. “Besides, there’s not exactly an overabundance of trouble here in Serenity. Yours are the only real calls I’ve had since I came to work here.”

“That’s me,” Rachel quipped, “a one-woman crime spree. Anything to keep the local law from getting bored.”

She saw his smile fade and his eyes narrow, clearly concentrating on her as he added, “It’s okay to joke about it to relieve tension, but that doesn’t mean I consider these threats harmless. You do understand that, don’t you?”

Nodding, she met his firm gaze with resolution. There was a knot in her stomach and a lump in her throat when she said, “Oh, yes, Deputy Morgan. I understand it all too well.”

“You can call me Jace, if you want,” he said as he went to work with a hammer and screwdriver. “First names seem to be the norm around here.”

“For those of us who have lived here all our lives, they are. As a newcomer, you may find that some folks are a bit standoffish.”

“How long do you think it will take for them to loosen up toward me?”

Rachel laughed lightly. “Oh, two or three…”

“Months?”

“No, generations. If you stay all your life, your grandkids will probably be considered locals.”

“I see.”

He tried to concentrate on fixing the door but thoughts of the woman beside him kept interfering. She was spunky without being foolish, pretty without being conceited and intelligent enough to impress him beyond all expectations. That he’d even noticed was a surprise, especially since he’d sworn off women in general, beautiful ones in particular. He had his work, his career. It was his mission in life. He didn’t need the distraction of a romantic entanglement. That kind of thing had almost cost him his former partner’s life. He was not about to make the same mistake twice.

Still, he reasoned, if he made himself available to Rachel Hollister in his off-duty hours, he might be in a better position to solve the mystery of who was threatening her. In a close-knit community like this one, there was little chance he’d inadvertently stumble upon the information he needed to keep her safe unless he was totally immersed in the day-to-day activities.

As he worked, he kept his eyes on the door. “Where do you go to church?”

“Why?”

“Just wondered. I’m new here, as you know, and I thought I’d ask around for recommendations.”

“I—Serenity Chapel is nice.”

“Is that your church?” Noting her reluctance, he began to watch her, to probe her expression.

“I don’t go very often. Not anymore.”

Finished, Jace straightened to try the repaired door and test its strength. “Why not?”

“Because of Lance, mostly. His parents are important church members and I told you he was spreading false rumors about why we broke up, probably to save face. I started feeling uncomfortable because I could sense that so many people believed his exaggerations. They didn’t say so to my face, but…”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting? The way I look at it, it may be nice to visit with friends at church but that’s not the real reason to attend. We’re supposed to be there to worship.”

“Tell that to Lance.”

“I will, if you’ll accompany me to the Sunday morning service.”

“Oh, I don’t think…”

“Don’t think. Just put on your big girl shoes and do it, as my granny used to say.” He could feel himself beginning to blush. “Of course, that’s not exactly how she put it but you get the general idea.”

“I’ve heard similar old sayings right around here.” Rachel frowned. “I thought you were from California.”

“I am. My grandparents, however, were genuine hillbillies, just like you.” He was pleased to see her smile and chuckle.

“Don’t let too many folks hear you call us that,” she warned. “We may refer to ourselves that way but we tend to take exception to having outsiders do it.”

“I’ll be careful. So, how about it? Will you go to church with me and introduce me around?” Waiting, he was afraid she’d refuse so he goaded her. “Unless these childish threats have you ready to hide from life and turn into a hermit.”

“Me? Hide? No way,” she insisted.

“Good. Then tell me where you live and what time you want me to pick you up Sunday morning.”

“I never said I’d go.”

“No,” he drawled, “but you didn’t say you wouldn’t, either.”

The look of alarm on her face was priceless. Jace hoped she could tell that his interest was purely platonic because he didn’t want to create a false impression that he was actually pursuing her.

Moments later he stopped worrying. After all, how much more innocent could their time together be? He did want to find a home church and since the Good Lord had placed Rachel in his life, he figured it was only sensible to kill two birds with one stone.

That analogy immediately chilled him to the bone. Any mention of killing brought his thoughts back to the threatening notes. And to the looming danger that he had yet to identify, let alone counteract.