Dead by Midnight Part 16

"You aren't allowing your prejudice against Dillard to form your opinion of him, are you?" Derek asked.

"Maybe," Perdue admitted. "But I say we cross Hines off our suspects list or at the very least move him to the bottom. And for now at least, we put Dillard at the top of that list."

"I agree," Derek said. "For now. But I figure Dillard's physical condition would make it difficult for him to carry out the murders."

"Difficult, but not impossible. Besides, he has enough money to hire a professional."

"We agree again." Derek grinned. "Amazing, isn't it, how much we're beginning to think alike. We may wind up being best buddies after this case ends."

Keeping her eyes glued to the road ahead, she replied, "No way in h.e.l.l."

Lorie lifted her gaze from the article in Tea Time Tea Time, a magazine for tea party enthusiasts, and glanced across the room to where Sh.e.l.ley Gilbert sat immersed in a paperback novel. She had taken off her jacket before dinner, but she still wore her shoulder holster.

Lorie folded a page in the magazine-an advertis.e.m.e.nt for a teapot vendor-and laid the magazine aside. At the beginning of the year, Lorie and Cathy had decided to branch out at Treasures and include tea party items and perhaps even in the future rent the empty store next door to their antique shop, renovate it, and use it as a tearoom.

She missed Cathy and would be glad when she returned from her honeymoon. Four more days. But she dreaded having to tell her best friend what was happening in her life. In less than two weeks, her whole world had been turned upside down. Because her life had been threatened, she now had a 24/7 bodyguard.

As if sensing Lorie was looking at her, Sh.e.l.ley glanced her way and smiled. Lorie returned her smile and said, "I'm thinking about fixing myself a root beer float before bedtime. Want one?"

"Make that a Seven-Up float for me, if you have Seven-Up. I'm not a big root beer fan."

"One Seven-Up float and one root beer float it is."

Sh.e.l.ley got up, laid her book in the chair, and followed Lorie into the kitchen. Lorie entered first, stopped dead still and gasped. She hadn't yet turned on the overhead light and the only illumination came from the dim hallway sconces and the three-quarter moon s.h.i.+ning through the kitchen window.

"What is it?" Sh.e.l.ley asked quietly as she paused behind Lorie.

"I could've sworn I saw someone outside peeking in the kitchen window."

"Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not sure. It could have been my imagination. I've been pretty jumpy lately, but-"

"You stay here," Sh.e.l.ley told her. "I'm going out the back door and I want you to lock it behind me."

"Be careful," Lorie said.

Sh.e.l.ley pulled the 9mm from her shoulder holster, eased open the door, and walked onto the back porch. Doing as she'd been instructed, Lorie locked the door. But she pulled up the Roman shade covering the gla.s.s top half of the door and peered out into the darkness. Sh.e.l.ley left the porch and entered the yard. Lorie held her breath.

"Stop or I'll shoot," Sh.e.l.ley called loud and clear.

Oh G.o.d! What if Sh.e.l.ley had caught the killer? She checked her watch. Nine fifty-eight. Nowhere close to midnight. But maybe he'd been casing her house, checking out her comings and goings, and ascertaining the danger in trying to get past her bodyguard.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Sh.e.l.ley reappeared, a man about five-ten walking slowly in front of her, his hands held high above his head in an I-surrender-don't-shoot gesture.

"Call nine-one-one," Sh.e.l.ley shouted. "I've caught our intruder."

After she sent a patrol car to Lorie's house, the dispatcher had called Mike. He had contacted his mother, asked her to come over and spend the night to look after Hannah and M.J., and then he had broken the speed limit from his house to Lorie's. When he arrived, Deputy Buddy Pounders opened the door for him.

"What have we got here?" Mike asked.

"Ms. Gilbert caught the guy red-handed," Buddy said. "He was snooping around outside the house."

"Was he armed?"

"No, sir, not unless you consider a camera a weapon."

"A camera?"

"I'm a reporter," a voice called out loudly.

"The guy's a reporter for the Huntsville Times Huntsville Times. He showed me his credentials. He's legit."

Mike stomped into the living room, where he found Sh.e.l.ley Gilbert standing over a cowering young man sitting on the sofa, a look of sheer terror on the guy's face. Then Mike scanned the room and found Lorie standing in the arched double doorway that led into the dining room.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded. "Just a little shaken up."

Mike turned around and glared at the reporter. "What's your name?"

"Ryan Bonner, sir."

"What the h.e.l.l did you think you were doing sneaking around outside Ms. Hammonds's home? Do you realize that at the very least, she can charge you with trespa.s.sing?"

"Yes, sir. I-I was just trying to snap a few pictures of Ms. Hammonds without her knowing it. And I thought maybe I might overhear the ladies' conversation. I really need an exclusive in order for the paper to hire me as a full-time reporter."

"What sort of an exclusive did you think you'd find here?" Mike asked, hoping his gut instincts were wrong about why this guy wanted a story on Lorie.

"Hey, it's no secret that something's going on, that Ms. Hammonds has a bodyguard. And don't ask me how I know. I don't have to reveal my sources."

"You're right, you don't. But you do have the right to call a lawyer."

"Are you going to arrest me?"

"That depends."

"I won't be bullied into not writing my story," Ryan said. "I've done my research about Ms. Hammonds, you know, or should I call her Cherry Sweets? That was some sweet sweet centerfold she posed for, but nothing to compare to that movie she made." centerfold she posed for, but nothing to compare to that movie she made."

Mike saw red. Literally. The rage inside him boiled over and it took every ounce of his self-control not to punch Ryan Bonner in the mouth.

Chapter 13.

"Buddy!" Mike bellowed the deputy's name.

"Yes, sir?"

"Escort Mr. Bonner down to headquarters."

"You can't arrest me!" Bonner shouted.

"Take him in for questioning." Mike grinned. "And by all means, let him call his boss at the Times Times or his lawyer or anybody else he wants to call. But under no circ.u.mstances is Mr. Bonner to be released tonight. Understand?" or his lawyer or anybody else he wants to call. But under no circ.u.mstances is Mr. Bonner to be released tonight. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"This is police hara.s.sment," Bonner whined.

Mike turned his back on Bonner while Deputy Pounders led him to the patrol car. He knew there wasn't anything he could do to stop the gung-ho reporter from writing an expose about Lorie's past. It wasn't as if her years in LA were a big secret. But after being back in Dunmore for nine years and slowly making a life for herself here, Lorie had earned a second chance, at least with the townspeople. But if Bonner retold Lorie's old story-from hometown beauty queen and talent contest winner to Playboy Playboy centerfold and p.o.r.no star-tongues would start wagging and the ladies from the WCM would get riled up all over again. Lorie would become the center of attention for all the wrong reasons. centerfold and p.o.r.no star-tongues would start wagging and the ladies from the WCM would get riled up all over again. Lorie would become the center of attention for all the wrong reasons.

He paused outside the front door, his thoughts a mixed jumble that he needed to straighten out before seeing Lorie again.

Did he really believe she deserved a second chance? Yes, of course she did.

Just not a second chance with him.

d.a.m.n it, man, you want her. You know you do. Every time you see her, all you can think about is how it used to be between the two of you. You want to touch her. Hold her. Kiss her. Make love to her.

What he wanted and what was good for him were two different things. Lorie was all wrong for Sheriff Michael Birkett and his two children.

He had to keep things on a professional level; otherwise, he'd wind up in a sticky situation that could damage his career and wreak havoc on his personal life. And he could wind up hurting Lorie more than he'd already hurt her.

Taking a deep breath, Mike reached for the door handle, opened the door, and walked into the house. He found Lorie pacing the floor in the living room and Sh.e.l.ley Gilbert standing guard. Both women turned to face him.

"Buddy is taking Mr. Bonner to headquarters," Mike said. "If you want to press charges for trespa.s.sing or-"

"Does he know about the death threats?" Lorie asked.

"I'm not sure, but I don't think he knows anything specific other than the fact you have a bodyguard."

"How could he have found out?"

"Any number of ways," Mike said. "Maybe one of your neighbors snooped around and found out what's going on or even somebody working for me might have inadvertently let something slip and it got pa.s.sed on. It's hard to keep secrets in a small town."

Lorie sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly.

"I can hold Bonner overnight for questioning, but that's it unless you press charges. And I'm not sure you want to do that."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"He knows about your alter ego, Cherry Sweets," Mike told her.

G.o.d, how he hated the pain he saw in her eyes. "Bonner wants to do an expose on you-then and now-in the hopes it will get him a promotion to full-time status at the Huntsville Times Huntsville Times."

"He can't do that! He has no right," Lorie said. "I'll hire Elliott Floyd and threaten to sue him and the newspaper if they print one word about my past."

"You can do that and you probably should, but you have to know that if what they print is the truth-"

"Their version of the truth." Lorie wrapped her arms together around her waist in a hugging gesture and closed her eyes.

Sh.e.l.ley cleared her throat. "If you can stick around for a while, Sheriff, I need to contact the agency about this," Sh.e.l.ley said. "We'll want all the info on Ryan Bonner we can get. And we'll want it now." She glanced at Lorie, who stood in the middle of her living room, a dazed expression on her face. "I won't be long, okay?"

Lorie nodded. "Okay."

When they were alone together, Lorie sad and on the verge of tears, Mike's male instincts urged him to comfort her.

Talk to her. Rea.s.sure her. But don't touch her.

"Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, this had to happen." Lorie looked at him. "Not only do I have a serial killer who intends to make me one of his victims, but I have a zealous reporter who plans to exploit my life story in order to get a promotion." She laughed, the tone despondently mocking. "What's that old saying about if not for bad luck I'd have no luck at all?"

"I'm sorry. I wish I could do more to help you."

"You really mean that, don't you?"

"Yeah." Mike took a tentative step toward her and then halted when she was within arm's reach. It would be so easy to pull her into his arms, to hold her against his body, to brush his lips over her temple, to tell her he'd die before he would let anyone harm her. "You've got twenty-four/seven protection with Ms. Gilbert, and between her and the patrol car I've a.s.signed to keep watch shortly before and after midnight every night, you're relatively safe. As for that d.a.m.n reporter-everybody in Dunmore already knows about the Playboy Playboy spread and the p.o.r.no movie." spread and the p.o.r.no movie."

Lorie swallowed. "My illicit past has come back and bitten me in the a.s.s big-time. No matter what I do, how hard I try to be a good person, how much penance I pay, I can't obtain a pardon."

"Don't." He reached out to her, his hand hovering over her shoulder. "Don't do this to yourself."

"What's the matter, Sheriff, don't have the stomach for watching my self-flagellation?"

His hand fell away, down to his side, as he kept his gaze focused on the agony he saw in her eyes. "I don't know what to say. Tell me how I can help you."

"Don't you dare feel sorry for me! I don't want your pity."

"d.a.m.n it, Lorie, don't be so stubborn."

She threw up her hands in an I-give-up gesture. "Why did I ever think this town would allow me to live down my past when the man who once professed he would love me forever, no matter what, can't forgive me?"

"Lorie, please..."

"Please what? Understand why you feel the way you do? Do you have any idea what it's like to look into the eyes of the man you've loved since you were sixteen and see nothing but disgust and pity?"

He stared at her, momentarily unable to speak or move, while her words soaked into his brain. Her words-the man you've loved since you were sixteen-played over and over in his head. Surely she didn't mean that she still loved him. How could she love him after the way he had treated her all these years?