Читать книгу The Baby's Bodyguard - Jacqueline Diamond, Lori Copeland, Jacqueline Diamond - Страница 9

Casey didn’t know which upset her more: the possibility that the prowler was becoming violent, or the fact that he’d forced Jack to stay, even for a few hours, out of what was obviously a sense of obligation.

All the same, gratitude for her husband’s presence helped to ease her delayed shock. When she first spotted the damage to the car, she’d instinctively reached for some reassuring explanation, but the more she stared, the more unavoidable Jack’s conclusion seemed. This couldn’t have happened by chance.

Maybe she’d made a mistake when she ordered him to leave. Still, sooner or later, he had to go. Maybe they’d get lucky and he’d spot the likely culprit right away.

The Richfield Community Church lay on the far side of town, a small white clapboard building with a picturesque steeple. Cars and trucks spilled over onto an adjacent lot.

As she and Jack walked across the pavement, Casey noticed him straightening and realized he must be focusing on the task ahead. He probably had no idea what a stir the arrival of her previously unseen husband was likely to create among the congregation.

When they entered the foyer, she could hear the deep voice of the pastor, Joshua Norris, issuing from the sanctuary, although the doors had been closed. Jack hesitated. “What’s the etiquette?” he murmured. “I hate to just barge in.”

“Let’s wait till they start singing.” The noise should cover the disturbance caused by their entry.

A few minutes later, Casey heard the piano—which she knew was played by the minister’s wife, Bernadette—launch into a popular hymn. As the congregation swelled with song, she opened the door and led the way inside.

Brilliance poured through the stained-glass window above the pulpit and the arching side windows. To her, the whole place seemed to shine.

As always, the hymn lifted her spirits. Nothing seemed quite so unmanageable or threatening as it had before.

The congregants faced away from them. Only a few people appeared to notice their arrival, although she could already see them whispering to their neighbors.

When she pointed out two seats in a nearby pew, Jack gave a jerk of the head, indicating that she should sit. He, however, clearly intended to stand in the back where he could view the proceedings.

Although she’d have liked to stay with him, Casey couldn’t stand for the whole service. She slid into place and picked up a prayer book.

Once the song finished, more heads turned. Her friend Bonnie smiled, her interest obviously perking when she caught sight of Jack. Royce studied the new arrival with something less than enthusiasm.

Casey remembered Jack’s suspicions about him. She had to admit her ex-boyfriend didn’t even try to disguise his mistrust of the newcomer, but she couldn’t imagine him sneaking around the Pine Woods. And if he’d wanted to harm Jack, as a mechanic he could have done something far more deadly and hard to spot than scratching the paint.

The possibilities that came to mind alarmed her. Thank goodness Royce was no criminal.

Casey forced herself to look to the pulpit, even though her mind continued to buzz. Usually she enjoyed the service and tried to apply the sermon to her personal life. Today, she kept glancing around, wondering if one of these folks had become her enemy.

Not everybody in town attended, of course. Enid was the only one of the tenants in view, which didn’t surprise her, since she knew the others liked to sleep late. There were also some people she didn’t immediately recognize from this angle, including a woman in a scarf who sat with the Rawlinses.

Nearly an hour later, when the service ended, Casey rose stiffly. She’d never noticed how hard the pews were until she began carrying a baby.

Her friend Mimi approached. “I’ll teach your class, honey,” she volunteered. “You’d better keep your eye on that sexy guy of yours or somebody’s likely to make off with him.”

“Thanks.” Casey had to chuckle at Mimi’s cheerful manner. “That would help a lot.”

“Did you see who’s here?” Bonnie arrived with her younger sister, Angie, in tow. “They say a bad penny always turns up. I’m willing to give a person a second chance, but this one’s got enough attitude to fill a barn.”

“Who?” As she spoke, Casey noticed that the woman in the scarf was frowning in her direction. Good heavens, it was Sandra, her old friend, but much gaunter than the last time they’d met. She wore dark glasses, which seemed like an affectation even if she had been living in California, and had some kind of mark on her cheek. “What happened to her?”

“I heard she was in a car crash high on drugs,” Angie said. “Rumor has it she’s on probation.”

Her older sister made a face. “If you heard all that, how come you didn’t tell me? We could have told Casey last night.”

“I heard it this morning. I think she just got back to town yesterday.”

The young women stopped chattering as Jack approached. After greeting them briefly, he asked Casey, “Who’s that man?”

She followed his gaze. “Al Rawlins.” She explained about her connection to his daughter Sandra. “Why do you ask?” ago.

“From the way he glared at you, I got the impression you’re not one of his favorite people.”

“I know. He blames me for Sandra’s problems.” Casey had familiarized him with her friend’s situation long

“Is something wrong?” Mimi asked. “The way Jack inspected the crowd, I figured we must have at least an FBI’s Most Wanted hanging around.”

“Somebody bashed his car last night,” Casey explained. “We’re trying to figure out who might have had a motive.”

“That stinks,” Mimi said. “It’s not much of a welcome, is it? Well, I’d like to stay but I’d better go teach that class.”

Casey thanked her again. Bonnie and Angie excused themselves also.

As soon as they were gone, Jack queried Casey about some of the other attendees. She identified Royce and Larry Malloy, the rookie cop who’d investigated Friday night’s assault.

“I don’t think either of them is the possessive type, and I’ve certainly given them no reason to be,” she added.

“Men who fixate on women aren’t necessarily connected to reality,” he told her. “They invent scenarios in which the woman plays hard to get but secretly loves them. They can be very difficult to dissuade.”

“What does it take to convince them she’s serious?”

“Getting a restraining order or marrying someone else usually does the trick. Unfortunately, it may also flip the guy off the deep end. That’s when stalkers become most dangerous.”

As he spoke, Jack made notes on a small pad. Compiling a list of suspects, Casey supposed.

It troubled her to view old acquaintances as potential predators. Many of them were folks she wouldn’t hesitate to call on if she needed help. Yet someone had knocked her down with a hose and scraped Jack’s car.

“You said body language might give him away,” she recalled. “What kind of behavior are you looking for?”

“People avoiding my gaze,” he replied promptly. “Inappropriate or contradictory actions that indicate the person’s putting on a pretense of normalcy. Restlessness, such as an adult who can’t stop wiggling.”

“I figure an adult who can’t stop wiggling during a church service probably needs to use the bathroom.” Casey had to admit that, as a pregnant woman, she had a rather biased perspective in that regard.