My Deadly Valentine (7 page)

The glare from her compact car’s headlights nearly blinded her as she stared out the windshield. Something moved to her right. A shadow shifted. A man-size one. And it was coming closer.

TWELVE

J
ace set the box with the hot pizza next to him on the seat of his patrol car, backed out of the Hickory Station parking lot and headed straight for the card shop. He was glad he’d told Rachel to wait for him because he didn’t want her going home alone.

Thinking back over their conversation as he drove, he realized that he had not specified where she was to meet him. Surely she’d understood what he’d meant. She knew better than to go home unescorted, even though they had changed all her locks and reprogrammed her garage door opener.

As he pulled even with the card store, however, he realized that her car was already gone. His pulse began to pound and his heart leaped. “What was she thinking?”

That I was going to meet her at the house,
he answered only in his mind. How typical. She’d wanted to go home so she had conveniently assumed that that was what they’d agreed upon.

Whipping the wheel and making a U-turn, he was thankful that there was no cross traffic. It was only a short distance to Rachel’s and she couldn’t have been gone long. He’d probably be able to overtake her in a couple of minutes at the most.

His hands fisted on the steering wheel. A few minutes was all it would take for someone to end her life.

Jace tasted bile. His jaw clenched. Every sense was heightened as he pressed hard on the accelerator. The tires of the patrol car squealed around the corner onto Third Street.

Squinting, he tried to see far enough ahead to tell if Rachel was parked in her driveway.

He didn’t see her car. He didn’t see any cars. So where was she? And why had she refused to wait for him? Had she been abducted? Was he too late?

Deep in his mind he could visualize her in trouble. The image wasn’t a logical one. But it was so clear, so intense, he felt as if he were viewing reality.

“Dear God,” he prayed. “Tell me what to do. Where is she?”

Rachel was terrified. Trapped. Helpless. The car doors were locked and she was temporarily safe inside, but what if her stalker smashed the windows? What then? If he’d spent any amount of time lurking in the garage he had to have discovered that there were hand tools available. A hammer would shatter her side windows and then all he’d have to do is reach in and grab her.

She must not allow that to happen. But what other options did she have?

A shadow clad all in black crossed in front of the right headlight and stopped perpendicular to the hood of the car. It bent over. Rachel gasped. Was he trying to open the hood? It sure looked like it. And if he was successful, he’d be able to disable the car and stop her from starting it.

Of course! Her would-be assailant’s actions had answered her question. With the engine running she’d at least be maneuverable, even if she wasn’t able to back out with the door closed.

She turned the key. The car started. The shadowy figure raised both arms and jumped aside.

Rachel wanted to cheer. She’d surprised him, all right. Now what? If he got in front of her again she could run into him, pin him between her bumper and the end wall, but that didn’t solve the problem of her current vulnerability.

Did she dare try to back her car through the closed door? Was there enough room to get a little momentum going and actually break out? And if she tried and failed, would it just make matters worse?

That notion almost made her laugh hysterically. “Worse? How could this get any worse?”

In an instant she knew. The window on the passenger side shattered into a million tiny pieces and many of them rained onto the seat beside her. A black-clad arm reached through, grasping blindly.

That was all the incentive Rachel needed. Flooring the accelerator, she backed straight into the partitioned door.

To her horror, it splintered but held.

The arm came at her again.

She screamed. Ducked. Roared forward till her front bumper smacked the wall, then once again jammed the car into Reverse.

The tires spun and whistled against the cement floor. This time, the door gave and she rocketed out onto the driveway.

Jace saw the base panels of the door splinter and fall away. He skidded the patrol car to a stop across the drive to block it and was nearly hit broadside by the car that was racing toward him.

He bailed out the driver’s door, drew his gun and crouched, ready for anything. When Rachel practically fell out of her car he ran to her side.

“What happened?”

She pointed. “He’s there. In the garage. He…”

Jace didn’t wait for her full explanation. Pushing her down, he ordered, “Stay here,” and was gone in a flash. The headlights of her car illuminated the hole she’d smashed in the door and he caught a glimpse of movement.

“Freeze! Police,” he shouted.

The figure ducked back into the shadows. “I knew you wouldn’t make this easy,” he grumbled. “That suits me just fine.”

Before proceeding, he turned back to check on Rachel. She was crouched just where he’d left her. “Go to my car and use the radio to call for backup,” Jace shouted. “And lock yourself in.”

As soon as she waved and started to obey he returned his concentration to the damaged garage. Rachel had surprised him with her resourcefulness and willingness to destroy property in order to save herself. She was one of a kind, all right. The perfect woman for him.

But before he told her so, he had a job to do. One he was going to thoroughly enjoy.

Raising up and keeping his gun trained on the hole, he started to inch forward.

Rachel yanked open the passenger side door of the patrol car and threw herself inside, realizing belatedly that she was sitting on a now collapsed pizza box.

She wasn’t all that familiar with a police radio but since this was such a small department she figured it would be tuned to the right frequency and therefore pretty easy to use.

She grabbed the microphone, pressed the side to trigger it, and shouted, “Harlan, Jace needs help. He’s at my house—Rachel Hollister’s, I mean. Hurry!”

As soon as she released the transmit button she heard a scratchy reply. Help was on the way.

Should she do as she’d been told or relay that message to Jace? Surely, he wouldn’t think of entering the garage with the stalker until he had backup.

But apparently he had. When she looked for him, he was nowhere to be seen.

The garage was dimly lit by the car’s headlights but not completely dark. Jace went as far as the jagged opening, then changed his mind. If he entered through Rachel’s kitchen, maybe he could catch the stalker by surprise. And as long as his car was blocking the drive and she was safely inside it, he didn’t see much risk. His windows weren’t as easily breakable as those of a civilian’s car so even if she were attacked there, she’d be relatively secure.

The siren announcing the arrival of a second patrol unit bearing the sheriff decided him on his next move. Vaulting over the porch railing, he used the extra key he had left from changing the locks and entered the house. Thankfully, it was deserted, affirming his conclusion that Rachel’s assailant was working alone.

He quickly made his way to the side door and found it locked. All he had to do, however, was release the mechanism in the knob in order to ease it open.

Since he had the dark house behind him and the headlights of the cars pointed at him, Jace could observe the interior of the garage fairly well. What he saw gave him cold chills. A figure dressed in black was hunched over next to the broken opening in the door and was holding a hammer raised to strike. If he, or anyone else, had poked his head through that hole it would have been bad news.

Just then he heard Harlan’s voice. “Hands up and come out,” the sheriff shouted.

Jace saw Harlan’s body break the beam of light. So did the assailant. The hammer began its downward arc. Jace did the only thing he could do to save his boss. He fired.

Rachel screamed “Jace!” and started to run toward the garage. If the sheriff hadn’t physically held her back she would have entered without thought for herself.

“Jace!”

“I’m okay. Harlan, call the medics, will you. We’ve got a wounded man here.”

She continued struggling until she’d heard Jace’s calm, assertive voice. Now, she sagged against the sheriff. “Praise God. He’s all right.”

“Sounds like it,” Harlan said. “Can I trust you to stay out here till I get back?”

Rachel nodded, unable to catch her breath enough to speak again. Jace wasn’t injured. It was amazing, given the circumstances. How had he gotten the best of the man in the garage? And who in the world was the assailant?

Just then, she looked up and gasped. There stood the love of her life, arm in arm with the man in black, helping him walk through the hole in the broken door and out into the driveway. When she recognized her stalker, she was thunderstruck.

“You know this guy?” Jace asked.

Rachel nodded. “Yes. That’s Bud Foster. He’s—he’s one of the electricians who fixed the heater in the store. He works at the courthouse, too. Remember? No wonder he didn’t have any trouble sneaking that card into the rack. I see him so often I barely paid any attention.”

“That doesn’t explain why he was so mad at you,” Jace said. He gave the man’s shoulder a shake and heard him moan.

“Watch it. I’m shot.”

“Not badly,” Jace said. “You have the right to remain silent. If you give up…”

Rachel listened to Jace read him his full Miranda rights, then say, “Okay. Talk. What did you have against Ms. Hollister? What did she ever do to you?”

The man coughed and winced before answering. “It’s what she didn’t do, not what she did. She thought she was too good to date me. Too high and mighty.”

Astounded, Rachel scowled at him. “What are you talking about? I’ve never even spoken to you other than professionally or to say hello when we pass on the street.”

“See?” Bud insisted, making a sour face at her.

“What made you think I wouldn’t date you? You never even tried to ask me out.”

“No, but George told me. He oughta know. He’s your daddy.” He eyed a familiar car that was pulling to a stop in front of the stakeout house. “There he is. Go ahead. Ask him.”

Rachel sagged back against the scratched fender of her car. “My father again. I should have known. I think it’s time he and I had a serious discussion about my love life. And this time,
I’m
going to do all the talking.”

Jace handed his prisoner over to the sheriff and rejoined Rachel, taking her in his arms and holding tight. “What will you say?”

She cuddled closer before she answered. “You can listen to the whole conversation. As a matter of fact, I want you to. I plan to tell him that I’ve fallen in love with a cop and am no longer in the market for a husband.”

Raising her face she studied the astonishment in Jace’s expression. “If that’s all right with you.”

“It’s more than all right. It’s perfect,” he said tenderly.

“Good, because I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend the rest of my life with than you, Deputy Morgan.”

Tears of joy misted her vision. This was the answer to many of her prayers, all wrapped up in one wonderful man. And if she had not faced danger, they might never have gotten to know each other.

“Will you do me one favor?” Rachel asked.

“Kiss you, before your father gets here and starts hollering at everybody? We’d better hurry. He looks fit to be tied.”

“I was thinking of something else. Will you be sure to give me a really pretty Valentine in a few days? I want to remember this holiday fondly for the rest of my life, not have it spoiled because of some guy who isn’t rowing his boat with both oars in the water.”

“Gladly,” Jace said, grinning. “Know where I can find a lacy, expensive card?”

“I think so. And when you go to buy it, be sure to tell Eloise who it’s for. It’ll make her day.”

Jace wasn’t surprised when Rachel pivoted to address her red-faced father with a casual “Hi, Dad.” What did astonish him was the calm way she stood her ground.

“Will somebody please explain what’s going on?” George demanded.

“Gladly,” she said, “but you’re not going to like what you hear.”

Jace felt George’s piercing stare settle on him. “Are you going to tell me
he’s
involved?”

“For the rest of my life, if I get my way,” she said, tightening one arm around Jace’s waist and leaning closer, much to his relief. “And that’s just the beginning. Maybe you’d better sit down, Dad.”

Grinning, Jace couldn’t resist adding, “Yeah,
Dad.
Sitting is an excellent idea. Rachel and I have plenty to tell you and I’d hate to have you fall over in a faint when you find out what apparently triggered her stalker in the first place.”

Rachel touched her father’s hand and said, “I think he knows. Don’t you, Dad?”

The color left the older man’s face as he stared at the familiar person the sheriff was loading into his car. “It was Bud?”

“Yes.” Jace kept her close, protecting her from the danger that no longer existed because it gave him a sense of tranquility to do so. “He was under the impression that you had tried to set up a date for him with Rachel and that she had refused.”

The starch seemed to go out of George and he shook his head sadly. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t think he was right for her so I kept making excuses whenever he approached me about it.”

“Well, in that case you were right,” Jace said. He gave his future bride a squeeze. “Now, what do you think about me? Will I do? Because I think our Rachel has made up her mind and I’d like your blessing.”

“You’re a
cop.
” George’s eyebrows arched.

Rachel laughed and cast a loving gaze at Jace that melted his heart as she said, “I know, Dad. I know. But nobody’s perfect.”

EPILOGUE

O
ne of the things that gave Rachel the biggest thrill was the way her father had mellowed in the aftermath of the stalker incident. George wasn’t a totally different man. That would have been too much to hope for. But he was definitely easier to get along with. She had been wondering if the changes were all in her imagination until her mother, Ruth, finally broached the subject.

Standing in an anteroom of Serenity Chapel, awaiting her entrance as a bride, Rachel beamed and clasped Ruth’s slim hands. “I’m so glad you mentioned that, Mom. I’ve thought Dad was acting much better, too.”

“It was enough of a change to impress me,” her mother said, growing teary-eyed. “I was just about at the end of my rope with that man.”

“I know what you mean. Jace is kind of like Dad in some ways, only he values my opinion. That’s the biggest difference I can see.” She giggled. “That, and he’s a whole lot handsomer.”

Ruth’s smile was tender and filled with understanding. “And that’s the way it should be. You should always look at your husband as if he is the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.” She sighed. “There was a time when I looked at your father that way.”

Rachel was concerned. “You don’t now?”

“I hadn’t for years. Not until recently.” She gave her daughter a brief hug and smiled through misty eyes. “Maybe I just needed you and Jace to remind me how it could be. How it should be between a husband and wife.”

“It is scary to think of committing my whole life to him,” Rachel admitted, “but I can’t imagine not having him with me forever.”

“And
that
is the best sign of all.”

“It still frightens me to know he’s putting himself in harm’s way so often. How did you deal with that when Dad was working and was gone so much?”

“I shut him out,” Ruth admitted, sobering. “I can see now that it was wrong but it was my way of sheltering myself from the loss I was sure I’d eventually experience.” She began to smile again. “But, as you can see, he’s still very much alive and kicking.”

“That’s like something Pastor Logan told Jace and me during counseling. We have to trust God and take one day at a time. If we borrow trouble it’s like saying that we only believe selected parts of the Bible, the ones that fit our preconceived notions.”

The door opened and Becky Malloy, the matron of honor, stuck her head in. “Hey, you two. Let’s get this show on the road. It’s time for everyone else to be seated and Logan doesn’t want the groom to keel over because he had to wait too long.”

Rachel laughed lightly. “Jace? Keel over? I doubt that very much. He’s faced a lot worse trials than getting married.”

That comment was apparently funnier than Rachel thought because it made Becky laugh aloud. She took Ruth’s hand and led her from the room, leaving Rachel to pick up her bouquet of white and pink roses and follow.

If Jace really was nervous then maybe it was okay for her insides to be quaking and her hands to be clammy, Rachel reasoned. They were taking a big step. Together. If she had not been on her way to meet Jace and take her place by his side, she might have turned and run.

The way I fled from my stalker,
she added to her thoughts with a shiver. It was good to know that the poor deluded man was institutionalized but there was still an element of fear that occasionally crept into her thoughts and left her unnecessarily breathless.

“For God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind,” she whispered, quoting her favorite verse from II
Timothy.

She stepped into place at the head of the center aisle as soon as she got the signal and waited while Becky led the way forward. The sanctuary was packed. Cascades of fresh flowers decorated the altar. The organ music swelled.

For a second, Rachel wished she had not opted to walk alone rather than let her father be her escort. When Jace had suggested that George stand up for him as his best man, she had readily agreed. Anything that brought her father and her future husband together was fine with her.

Now, however, her knees felt weak and she wished she had someone’s strong arm to lean on. She smiled to herself. On the way back, as Mrs. Jace Morgan, she would have.

She raised her eyes. There he was! Jace. More handsome than ever, so captivating she could hardly contain her joy. And, as his gaze met hers, Rachel was no longer alone.

He smiled tenderly, his very presence calling out to her.

Grinning through happy tears, she took one step forward, then another. The cadence of the customary music was far too slow to suit her. Her soft veil fluttered against her cheeks and the fabric of her full skirt rustled as she picked up the pace.

Jace began to beam. He held out his hand to her. As soon as her fingers touched his, he said, “I thought you’d never get here.”

“Neither did I,” she replied softly. “But now that I’m here…”

Logan Malloy cleared his throat noisily, making Rachel blush.

She held tightly to Jace’s hand as the ceremony—and the rest of her life—began.