Beverly Barton 3 Book Bundle. BEVERLY BARTON

hadn’t done in a long time. He prayed for Mary Lee. And he prayed that he wouldn’t screw up this chance to be a real father to his son.

      Knowing she couldn’t keep her terrible secret to herself any longer, Thomasina had called her sister and asked her to come over as quickly as possible. And when Amanda arrived, she had told her everything, starting with that first “love note” and ending by showing her the unopened manila envelope lying in the middle of the kitchen table.

      “You shouldn’t have gotten rid of the other stuff,” Amanda told her. “You should have saved it for the police. They’ll need all the evidence they can get if they’re going to arrest Brandon Kelley.”

      “I—I wasn’t thinking,” Thomasina admitted. “I just wanted all of it gone, out of the house, out of my sight forever.”

      “Want me to open it?” Amanda indicated the manila envelope.

      “No, I’ll do it. I just wanted you here with me before I did it.”

      “Go ahead.” Amanda stood behind Thomasina’s chair and clamped her hands down reassuringly on her shoulders. “I’m right here.”

      Her hands shook so badly that she paused for a couple of minutes after she picked up the envelope. “I’m a nervous wreck. This is what he’s done to me, and I let him do it. I’ve been so stupid.” Fueled with anger and indignation, she ripped open the envelope, turned it upside down and watched as two small envelopes and three pieces of art paper drifted out and floated down onto the table. She noticed that one of the small envelopes was flat and the other was puffy, as if it contained bubble wrap.

      “He always sends a message.” Thomasina reached for the flat envelope first.

      “Maybe you should open the other one first and look at the sketches, then read the note.”

      Thomasina shook her head, ripped open the flat envelope and removed the note.

      She read it to herself first.

      I know that you love me and want to please me. Soon, very soon, we’ll be together and you’ll be able to show me just how much you care.

      She handed the note to her sister. “Should we be wearing gloves or something? If there are any fingerprints—”

      “Just read the damn note, will you?” Tears swam in Thomasina’s eyes.

      Amanda took the note, being careful to hold it by the edges, then read it. “Open the other envelope.”

      Thomasina opened the puffy envelope and removed a small square of bubble wrap. She tore apart the padding to reveal a gold ankle bracelet. She dropped it on the table as if the touch of it burned her fingers.

      “Now the sketches,” Amanda told her.

      Thomasina turned them over and looked at them one at a time, then handed them to her sister. Just looking at the sketches made her sick to her stomach.

      “Oh, Thomasina, these are awful,” Amanda said. “If Brandon Kelley drew these, he’s crazy. And if he wants to do these things to you, he’s dangerous.” She waved the third sketch in the air. “This picture shows you with your throat slit and blood dripping down on your breasts.” Amanda tossed the sketch aside, then rushed across the kitchen, picked up the telephone and said, “I’m calling Chief Nichols right now. If he can’t arrest Brandon Kelley on any other charges, he can arrest him for harassing you.”

      “Wait,” Thomasina called to her sister.

      “No, I’m not waiting. I’m calling the police. It’s something you should have already done.”

      “We’ll call the police and tell them everything,” Thomasina said. “But … but I have no way to prove that Brandon is the one who sent me the notes and gifts and sketches.”

      “Who else could it be? He’s an artist and it would have taken a very talented artist to have drawn those wicked, sickening pictures. And he’s flirted with you for months now, hasn’t he? And when he got your message today, he didn’t come to you and deny he’d been the one sending you this stuff, did he?”

      “No, he didn’t, but—”

      “We’ll call Chief Nichols, tell him everything and let him take it from there. Just tell him that you think these things are from Brandon Kelley, but you can’t be sure.”

      “That’s just it, Amanda. I’m not sure. Not now. What if it was someone else all along?”

      “Then the police will find out who.”

      “Will they? How? How will they find out? What if he keeps sending these things? What if—”

      “First things first. Let’s get the police involved and go from there.”

      Thomasina nodded. “I have to be back at school by seven.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s already after six. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow to call the police.”

      “No, you will not wait. Call and cancel your class tonight.”

      “I can’t. I’m giving a major test tonight. I have to be there.”

      “Okay. We’ll go to the police station first. You take your car and I’ll follow you in mine. We will talk to the police, tell them what’s happened, leave this stuff”—she glowered at the envelope’s contents lying on the table—“then whatever paperwork needs filling out, you can do tomorrow. But the sooner the police know, the better for you.”

      Thomasina gathered up the items, shoved them back into the ripped envelope and said, “Let’s go.”

      Bernie arrived at Robyn’s new apartment, located on Main Street in downtown Adams Landing directly above the town’s only bookstore. Many of the second levels of the downtown buildings had been converted into apartments over the past ten years, and since living so close to her fitness center was ideal for Robyn, she’d jumped at the first available apartment. After getting out of her Jeep, Bernie walked across the sidewalk and opened the street-level door that led up the stairs to the second floor of the building. As soon as she headed up the stairs, she heard voices and recognized two of them—her sister’s and her mother’s. Both women were talking at the same time, both issuing orders. Then she heard the shuffle of feet, several pairs of feet, and the sound of furniture being dragged. There was no telling who all was up there. Between the two of them, her mother and sister had probably invited half the people they knew to “come over and help us.”

      If it wasn’t for the fact that she’d never hear the end of it if she didn’t show up this evening, Bernie would have gone straight home. She was physically and mentally exhausted, having put in a ten-hour day. Despite the evidence the ABI had collected, they were no closer to discovering the identity of Stephanie Preston’s killer than they had been nearly a week ago when her body had been discovered. Everyone working on the case was becoming frustrated, and frustration led to squabbling among her deputies—especially between Ron and Jim. Charlie had refereed several sparring matches between them in the past few days, but after tomorrow Charlie would be gone, back in Huntsville at the ABI substation. He’d done all he could do here in Adams County and although he would continue to be in charge of the case, he’d simply drive back and forth whenever necessary, instead of staying in town. After all, it would probably be several months before all the DNA evidence was processed and unless new evidence came to light before then, they had hit a dead end in their investigation.

      When Bernie reached the top of the stairs and moved down the hallway to the first apartment, she found the front door open, making it unnecessary for her to knock. She glanced inside and saw a crowd of people, along with her immediate family. Paul Landon lounged on a bright yellow leather sofa. Yellow was Robyn’s favorite color. The others were working like little solider ants, each one following the queen’s and the princess’s instructions. Brandon Kelley was in there and at this precise moment he was helping her mother hang a painting over the fireplace. Raymond Long and his mother, Helen, were also inside the apartment, along