Four weeks later
Beth Sherman decreased her gait to a fast walk as she approached her home. Sweat beaded her forehead and stung her eyes. She came to a stop a few feet from her porch, drawing in deep breaths to slow her quick heartbeat. She hated exercising, but her job as an administrative assistant had her sitting a lot. Keeping active was important to her health, so she was trying various forms of exercise to find the one she could live with. Jogging wasn’t going to be that for her. She would strike it off her list when she got inside.
As she swiped her hand across her forehead, she mounted the porch steps and stuck her hand into her small pocket to retrieve her key. She approached her door, coming to a halt a few feet away. Her heart jolted. The entrance was open a couple of inches. Her heartbeat revved up. She backed away and nearly stumbled down the stairs. She caught herself before she did.
I know I locked it before I went jogging. Someone’s in my house.
She whirled around and ran toward the next-door neighbor’s place on the left to call 9-1-1. She didn’t bring her cell phone with her because she didn’t want to deal with any calls. But now it would have been to her benefit if she had.
When she reached the front door, she rang the bell, her heart pounding inside her chest. No one answered. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson must still be at work. With a glance toward her home, Beth started for the next house on her left. Ann Maxwell was retired. Maybe she would be there.
Beth kept looking over her shoulder toward her yard. A man wearing black sweats and a hoodie hurried from her house. Her first impulse was to go after him, but he was too big for her to subdue. Instead, she ducked behind a thick bush near the Jacksons’ porch before the intruder saw her.
A white SUV whipped around the corner and sped down the street. The driver slammed on the brakes in front of her house while the man in black raced to SUV.
The driver stomped on the accelerator, and the vehicle flew past Beth. She tried to see the license plate number, but a parked truck blocked her view. The SUV turned onto a side street and disappeared.
She crawled out from behind the bush and stood. Her body shook. She folded her arms across her chest to still the tremors. Glancing toward her house, she tried to decide what to do—go to her place and call the police or try to find someone at home to use their phone. What if an intruder was still around?
Shivering at the thought of someone being inside her home, she headed toward the house to the left of her neighbor. Ann went to her church and often volunteered there. She’d brought Beth a casserole after the bus accident. The truck that blocked her view of the license plate number was parked in front of her home, so Ann might be there.
As Beth headed to the porch, she paused and scanned her surroundings in case the guy and his driver returned. Although one of her neighbors at the end of the street was backing out of his driveway in his car, the rest of the area was quiet. She pressed the bell and prepared herself to run out into the road to flag down the man if Ann wasn’t home.
She had turned to chase down the car when the front door opened. As she glanced over her shoulder, she came to a stop and swung around.
A tall man, over six feet with short dark brown hair and gray eyes dressed in a police uniform stood in the entrance. What if the person in her house had broken into this one first?
“Is Mrs. Maxwell all right?”
The police officer smiled. “Yes, she’s fine.” He studied her face for a few seconds. “Are you all right?”
“Colby, who’s at the door?” Behind him, Ann asked the man blocking the entrance.
“Ann, it’s Beth.” She leaned to the right to see around him.
“Is something wrong?” The older woman moved closer while the police officer stepped back to give her a full view of Beth.
“I need to use your phone to call the police,” Beth looked into the man’s gray eyes, “unless you can come and help me.”
Ann touched Beth’s arm. “Of course, Colby will help you. I can come too.”
She shook her head. “Someone broke into my house.” She looked at the older woman. “Ann, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Colby turned around. “Duke, come. She’s right, Nana. You need to stay here.”
He’s Ann’s grandson.
Ann stepped to the side while a black Rottweiler with splatters of brown trotted toward Colby. He grabbed a leash on a table in the entry hall and clipped the lead on the dog’s collar. “I just finished my shift, but I can help you. What happened?”
Beth quickly recounted what occurred when she returned from her run. “The guy hopped into a white SUV. I couldn’t tell you the license number or the make of the vehicle. It happened so fast.”
“Which house is yours?” Ann’s grandson asked as he moved past her onto the porch.
Beth faced him and pointed to her right. “The second house down. I’ll show you.”
“You and Nana should stay here until I make sure everything’s okay.” He turned to leave.
“I’ll wait outside my house.”
“No. Stay here,” Colby said in an authoritative voice as he swung back around, his stiff body blocking her. “I need to keep my focus on making sure your place is safe for you to return to.” His tone softened, his stance relaxed. “I’ll call this in to the station. As soon as I clear your house, I’ll let Nana and you know. Then you can come home.”
Realizing the logic behind his words, Beth nodded and gave him her key. “That’s in case the man locked the door as he left.”
As Colby strode away, Ann stepped to Beth’s side. “He knows his job. Keeping people safe has been his mission in life since he was a young boy. I’m so glad he’s returned to Cimarron City and is working with the police department.”
“When did he come back?”
“Last Friday. He’s staying with me until he finds a place to live. I’m trying to convince him to take his time. I have plenty of room here.” As Ann entered her home, she waved her arm at the large living room and dining room. “I’ve missed him the past twelve years he worked in Tampa. He went to college there and stayed when he graduated with a degree in criminal justice.”
“What brought him back to Oklahoma?” Beth took a seat in the chair across from Ann who eased onto the couch near an end table where her landline phone sat.
She frowned. “He’ll deny this, but I think he returned because his heart’s broken.”
“He’s divorced?”
Ann shook her head. “He had a girlfriend. They dated over a year. When I talked with Colby the last couple of months, I could tell something was wrong, but he never told me why they went their separate ways. But that isn’t why I think his heart’s still broken. He left Cimarron City because his fiancée was killed in a bank robbery. They both had graduated from the same high school and had dated for several years. He had been late meeting her at the bank, and he hasn’t been able to move on.”
Beth thought about her last serious relationship that ended six months ago. They had lived in the same apartment complex. Thomas hadn’t been happy when she told him she didn’t want to date him anymore. Not long after breaking it off with him, her tires had been slit, and her vehicle had been defaced with deep, long scratches. She’d moved across town to get away from him. Now she parked her car in the garage when she came home. Thomas hadn’t bothered her since she’d moved, but what if Thomas was the guy who’d been in her house? Was this connected to the hang-up calls she’d received yesterday evening and again today at work? Since the bus crash, she’d gotten a lot of calls. Maybe Thomas wasn’t the guy, but he’d made it clear he was angry that she’d walked away from him.
Ann rose from the couch. “Where are my manners? Would you like something to drink? I have a tea that has a calming effect. I can make some.”
“I hate for you to go to the trouble. Your grandson should be calling any second.” Beth stared at the phone as though willing it to ring.
A couple of minutes later, it did, and Beth shot to her feet. She covered the distance to the phone and started to reach for it, but Ann clasped the receiver and said, “Hello.”
Her neighbor listened for a moment then hung up.
“Was that Colby?”
Ann nodded.
“What did he say?”
“It’s okay for you to return home.”
“Anything else?”
“No. I’ll go with you.”
Beth smiled. “You don’t have to. I’ll be fine.” She walked toward the entry hall.
“Tell you what, I’ll make you a cup of tea and bring it over. I promise my tea will help you. I can’t even imagine how upset you are after having an intruder in your home.”
Knowing Beth couldn’t stop her neighbor from trying to help, she nodded. “I appreciate it.” She hugged Ann. She and people like her were one of the reasons Beth had moved to Cimarron City.
Ann opened the front door. “Great. I’ll be there soon.”
The last thing Beth saw as the older woman closed her door was a big grin. The sight brought a calmness to Beth as she made her way back home.
She hurried toward her house, but she slowed as she approached the porch. Questions flooded her mind. How long had the intruder been inside? Why did he pick her place? Did the media coverage this past four weeks have anything to do with the break-in? What was he after?
* * *
With Duke at his side, Colby Parker stood at the front living room window and watched Beth Sherman pause and stare at her front door, frozen in place. He knew that look of fear on her face from his nine-years’ experience as a police officer. He strode to the entrance to open the door.
Beth closed the space between them with slow, hesitant steps. “How bad is it inside?” She kept her gaze pinned on him as though she was scared to see what had happened to her “safe haven.” Robbery victims often felt violated.
Worse than the vulnerability in her blue eyes was the fear in her expression. Since his fiancée died during a bank robbery years ago, he had devoted his life to protecting others. He hadn’t been able to save Kelly. He should have been with her at the bank, but he’d slept through his alarm and arrived late. Maybe he could have saved her life.
“Not bad. I don’t know if anything was taken. You might have scared him before he could do much. You’ll have to go through and tell me if anything was stolen.”
“He might have seen me.” She peered into the living room. “He wasn’t carrying anything, so if he took something it was small.”
Colby followed Beth through her house as she checked different places. She released a long breath as she found her cell phone and laptop, picked them up to take with her, and set them on a table in her entry hall. He’d left two things that would have been easy to take.
When she closed her jewelry box in her bedroom, she turned toward him. “I can’t think of anything that could have been taken.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“Yes, but…” She walked back into the hallway. “What if it was him?” she asked in a quiet thoughtful tone.
“Who are you talking about?”
Beth’s hands shook. She crossed her arms against her chest. “Six months ago, I broke it off with my boyfriend, Thomas Carson. He didn’t take it well. We lived in the same apartment complex, The Village, on the other side of Cimarron City. I moved here after my car was defaced and the tires were slashed. Nothing else has happened since that time until now.”
“Was Thomas Carson the guy who left your house?”
“I don’t know. The only thing I can say is that the intruder had a similar build as Thomas, but I couldn’t tell you it was him.”
“I’ve already called this in. Even though I just went off duty, I’ll write up the report and also go by and interview Mr. Carson. What’s his apartment number?”
“It’s 289 on the second floor.” Beth scanned her surroundings. “Can I come with you?”
“That’s not a good idea. Let me do my job.” Colby gestured toward the front door, open slightly. “It looks like the intruder picked your lock. You should install a more secure one and think about an alarm system too.”
“I’ve been meaning to. Can you recommend a good lock and alarm system?”
“I’m not familiar with the companies in Cimarron City, but I’ll ask some police officers I work with what they would recommend and let you know. It may take a couple of days.”
The color faded from Beth’s face.
He took a step toward her. “After I go see Thomas Carson, I can get you a good lock today and install it for you. Until then, why don’t you stay with my grandma?”
“I hate to impose on Ann.”
“You aren’t.” Nana pushed Beth’s front door open wide and came inside, carrying a mug. “In fact, I insist you come to my house until this is cleared up.” She handed the drink to Beth.
Her gaze flicked from his grandma to him. “Thank you. I appreciate you volunteering to put in a new lock. How about the back door?”
“You need a new one there, too. I’ll replace both.”
“That would be great.” Beth sighed and put the mug on a coaster nearby. “I’m going to gather a few items I don’t want to lose.”
She went through her house and came back carrying a bag full with her laptop, some pieces of jewelry, her cell phone, and a few clothing items. Beth picked up the tea, took a sip, and followed his grandma from her house.
Colby clicked the lock in place, closed her front door, then hurried to catch up with Beth and Nana. Duke trotted beside him. What he didn’t tell Beth was that he had his dog sniff for bombs. Earlier today, there had been a bomb found in a backpack at a business a couple of miles from here. It had been disarmed, and no one was hurt, but so far there were no leads to who had left the bomb.
He didn’t think there would be a bomb in Beth’s house because the other one was a business, but he’d learned never to take anything for granted.
He strode to his truck and climbed inside after Duke settled on the backseat. He’d only returned to Cimarron City a couple of times since he’d left twelve years ago not long after Kelly’s death. His grandmother had wanted him to move back since his college graduation in Florida. She finally wore him down, mostly because he missed Nana and his friends from his childhood, but he also needed to deal with the guilt he felt because of Kelly’s murder. On one level in Tampa, he’d known he most likely couldn’t have stopped what had happened in the bank, but a year-long relationship with Ashley hadn’t lasted because he hadn’t forgiven himself for not being there somehow and saving Kelly.
When he arrived at The Village, he exited his vehicle and signaled for Duke to come to him. Colby clipped on his dog’s leash then headed for the apartment on the second floor. He pressed the button and heard the ring sound resonate through Carson’s place. After waiting a minute, Colby pounded on the door.
A tenant left his residence down the hall, and Colby called out. “Sir, is this Thomas Carson’s apartment?”
The guy nodded and continued toward the stairs.
He must not be home. Colby would return tomorrow. In the meantime, he would look into the man. When he returned to his truck, he looked up at the building toward Carson’s place. A slat on a blind over one of the windows in the man’s apartment moved as if someone had been looking out at the parking lot.
Colby climbed into his truck then called into the station to find out what kind of vehicle Carson drove.
“A white SUV.” The police officer also gave him the license plate number.
“Thanks.”
He opened his door and stood on his running board to scan the parking lot for the vehicle. A white SUV was parked in the last row. Colby hopped down to the pavement and walked to it to check the license plate number. It was the same as the one registered to Thomas Carson. He felt the hood, and it was cool. But then with almost an hour passing since the break-in, it wouldn’t be hot.
He still had questions for Carson, and one way or another he would get some answers. Why didn’t the guy come to the door a minute ago? Why was he probably peering out the window at him? What was the man hiding?