Presumption of Guilt
Books by Terri Blackstock
Soul Restoration
Emerald Windows
Restoration Series
1
| Last Light
2
| Night Light
Cape Refuge Series
1
| Cape Refuge
2
| Southern Storm
3
| River's Edge
4
| Breaker's Reef
Newpointe 911
1
| Private Justice
2
| Shadow of Doubt
3
| Word of Honor
4
| Trial by Fire
5
| Line of Duty
Sun Coast Chronicles
1
| Evidence of Mercy
2
| Justifiable Means
3
| Ulterior Motives
4
| Presumption of Guilt
Second Chances
1
| Never Again Good-bye
2
| When Dreams Cross
3
| Blind Trust
4
| Broken Wings
With Beverly LaHaye
1
| Seasons Under Heaven
2
| Showers in Season
3
| Times and Seasons
4
| Season of Blessing
Novellas
Seaside
ZONDERVAN
Presumption of Guilt
Copyright © 1997 by Terri Blackstock
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Zondervan.
ePub Edition July 2009 ISBN:978-0-310-85982-6
Requests for information should be addressed to:
Zondervan,
Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Blackstock, Terri, 1957â
        Presumption of guilt / Terri Blackstock.
            p. cm. â (Sun coast chronicles ; [bk. 4])
        ISBN-13: 978-0-310-20018-5
        I. Title. II. Series: Blackstock, Terri, 1957â Sun coast chronicles ; bk. 4.
     PS3552.L34285P74 1997
     813'.54âdc21
97-254
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the
Holy Bible: New International Version
®
. NIV
®
. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâelectronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any otherâexcept for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920.
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CONTENTS
This book is lovingly dedicated
to the Nazarene
I can't end this series without thanking the people who have shared my vision for it since the beginning. I'd like to thank my agent, Greg Johnson, for believing in what I was doing and sharing my enthusiasm. And I'd like to thank my Zondervan friends who have worked tirelessly beside me: Dave Lambert, the best editor I've ever worked with (and I've worked with plenty); Lori Walburg, the second best editor I've ever worked with; Sue Brower, who believed in the books enough to go to great lengths to get them into the hands of readers; and all of the others at Zondervan who have been such a pleasure to work with.
Thanks, also, to Bob Anderson from the attorney general's office in my state, for answering important law questions for me.
And thanks to you, all of the readers who have followed this series to the very end. You've been God's way of telling me over and over that this is where I'm supposed to be!
T
he Buick had been tailing Beth Wright for miles. She had first noticed it weaving in and out of traffic too closely behind her on the Courtney-Campbell Causeway, the driver making no attempt to hide the fact that he was after her. Now, nearing St. Clair, they had left T most of the traffic behind, but he was still there. She pressed the accelerator harder, checking her rearview mirror.
It didn't take a genius to figure out who it was. She had known that, if word got out that she was doing the story on the St. Clair Children's Home, Bill Brandon would come after her. What he would do once he caught her was open to speculation, but she didn't want to find out.
The Buick sped up and switched lanes, cutting in front of a motorcycle, forcing it to swerve, and then pulled up beside her, as if trying to run her off the road. He must have found out somehow that she had interviewed his sister, and he didn't like it. Marlene had warned her that he wouldn't take it well, but Beth hadn't needed warning.
The Buick swerved sharply to the right, almost hitting Beth's car, and she caught her breath and rammed her right foot to the floor. Her car burst forward, leaving the Buick behind. If he ran her off the road, he would kill her. If he was desperate enough to chase her down on a state highway with other drivers watching, then he was desperate enough to commit murder.
Her hand trembled as she reached for her cellular phone. It had fallen to the floor, so she bent forward, groping for it. The Buick jolted her rear bumper, and she swerved onto the shoulder. Grabbing the wheel, she pulled it quickly back into the right lane.The few other cars on the highway had begun pulling off the roadway to let her car and the Buick go by, probably alarmed by the Buick's erratic driving. Maybe someone had already called this in to the police.
She reached again into the darkness in front of the passenger seat for the phone, and this time her hand touched it. She picked it up and dialed 911 with her thumb.
“911, may I help you?”
“There's someone after me!” she cried. “He's trying to kill me!”
“What's your address?”
“No! I'm in my car! He's following me. We're on Highway 19 between St. Petersburg and St. Clair. I just passed the Ship's End restaurant. Please hurry!”
“What is he driving, ma'am?”
“A dark BuickâI'm not sure of the color.”
He bumped the rear corner of her bumper again, and she screamed as her car veered to the shoulder. “He's ramming my car!
Please, have you sent someone?”
“Yes,” the dispatcher said. “We have a car on its wayâ”
But while the woman was still talking, Beth punched the “end” button, cutting her off, so she could pay attention to Bill Brandon's Buick. The stretch of road between St. Petersburg and St. Clair wasn't as busy as the others they'd been on. If there was a patrol car in the area, he'd spot them immediatelyâbut if not, she might be dead before they showed up. To her right, she could see the beach, the turbulent waves smashing against the sand. If he stopped her, he could easily make her disappear in the Gulf Coastâand he wouldn't think twice about it. She looked in her rearview mirror. There was a car's distance between them now, but he was gaining. No other cars were in sight behind them. Where were the police?
Nick
, she thought.
I have to call Nick.
He was expecting her to come straight to his house, to let him know what she'd found out from Marlene. But with this maniac following her, she might never get there. She'd better tell him what she'd learnedâjust in case.
She punched out his number and waited as it rang. “Come on, Nick,” she whispered.
The answering machine picked up. “Hello, you have reached the home of Nick Hutchins . . .”
The Buick bumped her again, and tears sprang to her eyes. She punched off the phone and tried to think.
Where are you, Nick? You're supposed to be waiting for me!