Witness (5 page)

Petra laughed. “I love it. How about Thursday night?”

“Wonderful. Would you want to come to my house when you get home from work?”

“Sure. I hope they don’t make me stay late, but I’ll call you if that happens. Shall I bring Mason?”

“Of course.”

Petra smiled and tugged on Mason’s leash. “It’s a date, then. I’ll bring dessert and Lady Grey tea.”

They said goodbye and she and Mason went home. Petra felt more cheerful than she had in several days. She would get some apples and bake a pie. As she reached her driveway, she looked down the street. Her pleasure soured. Rex Harwood walked along the sidewalk, his black stare focused on her. Again, she saw his hands tightening the red scarf around the unknown woman’s throat. The horror of the moment returned as swift as lightning. When she inhaled, she felt her throat constrict, and she couldn’t get enough air.

She hurried Mason toward the door and stuck her key in the slot. She glanced back toward the street. Harwood stopped at the end of her driveway. Petra froze with her hand on the key ring.

“Leave me alone,” she gasped. Mason growled and tugged at the leash, leaning toward Harwood.

“No,
you
leave
me
alone.” He glared at her, then stalked across the end of her driveway, onto the sidewalk. He strode toward the park without looking back.

Petra hurried through the door, pulling Mason along. She fumbled with the dead bolt. She knelt on the kitchen floor and hugged the dog close to her, gasping.

Steady, Petra! He didn’t do anything.

She made herself take deep, slow breaths.

Maybe he didn’t do anything today, but he’s a killer.

Should she call the police? She tried to think it through rationally. Mason whined, and she realized she was still squeezing him against her. She released him and stood.

If I call the police, they’ll say it was nothing.
And it was. Wasn’t it? Except for her nauseating fear.

The next day crawled. Long before her double shift was over, Petra was exhausted. She called Alex’s house to remind him to take Mason out for a walk and give him his supper. At first she’d hesitated to give Alex a key, but he was a nice boy. The arrangement had worked well for the past two years, since she’d acquired Mason. Alex’s mother assured her that he had already left to head over to her house.

Shortly before seven, the supervisor alerted Petra to incoming patients. “We’ve got three victims being transported from a two-vehicle accident on the interstate. Make sure all the exam rooms are set up.”

Petra and the other nurses rushed to prepare for the influx, and the frantic pace didn’t slow again all evening. At half-past eleven, she dragged herself to the locker room and retrieved her jacket and purse. Her weary legs took her to the door and out into the fresh night air. She headed for the parking lot where she’d left her red Avalon that morning. The visitors’ lots were nearly empty, but cars still crowded the employees’ lot.

Her car sat faithfully where she’d left it, bathed in yellow light from the streetlight above. She was only a few yards away from it when movement off to her left caught her eye. Her hand molded to her key ring. Could she make it to her car safely, or should she turn back? She flicked a glance over her shoulder. She should have asked for a security guard to escort her out. Maybe someone else was going home, and she could call out to them. But no one else appeared to be leaving the hospital at the moment, and she hesitated. The moving shadow materialized closer than she’d expected—a tall man in dark clothing, with a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. His path would intersect hers before she reached her car.

Petra turned and walked swiftly back toward the building. She thought she heard footsteps behind her. Many thoughts flashed through her mind: her cell phone was inside her purse, but she hadn’t turned it on yet. Then there was the isolation of the employees’ parking lot; the warnings the security head had circulated; and mostly, how the darkness surrounded her. Was he really following her?

Unable to stop herself, she looked back. He was only a few paces behind her. A gleam of light flashed on something metal in his hand.

P
etra broke into a run and tore across the pavement before the emergency entrance. The door opened and she slammed into a man just walking out.

He grunted and grasped her arms.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped.

“Are you all right, Miss Wilson?”

She looked up into his face. Relief washed over her as she recognized the burly orthopedic surgeon.

“Dr. Bryant! Yes, but I think someone was following me.”

She twisted to look behind her, and the doctor followed her gaze.

“I don’t see anyone.” He frowned and surveyed the huge parking areas.

“I turned back when I saw him near my car, and he chased me.”

Dr. Bryant’s eyebrows shot up. “You’d best get inside and call security. Would you like me to go with you?”

“No, thank you, I’ll be fine.”

Petra swallowed hard and entered the E.R. She went straight to the nurses’ station and made the call. The night shift supervisor came by while she waited for the guard to appear.

“What happened? Are you all right?”

“Yes. I had a little scare in the parking lot, though. Thought I’d better alert security and ask for an escort.”

“I’ll tell the other nurses to be extra careful when they leave.”

It was a mistake to tell hospital security about Rex Harwood, she could see that. The guard insisted on calling the city police. While they waited, Petra drank a cup of coffee and planned what to say. She hadn’t mentioned to the hospital guard that she suspected her neighbor of murder, only that some unpleasantness had passed between them.

To her relief, an officer she’d never met responded.

“We’ve alerted our outdoor security to patrol the area where she saw the man,” the guard said as he led the officer to the nurses’ station.

“Miss Wilson?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Officer Blake. I understand you had a scare in the parking lot a short time ago.”

“Yes. I went out to my car to go home, and a man was loitering out there. He came toward me, so I turned and ran back here.”

“That was wise.”

“He had a knife.”

“Oh?”

“I think so. There was something metallic in his hand that caught the light. They’ve had muggings here lately.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that. Ordinarily we wouldn’t get involved in something like this, where no contact was actually made. We’d let the security force handle it. But the guard here says you recognized the man?”

“I’m not positive. It was dark. He was wearing a hat that shadowed his face. But his build and the way he moved…As soon as I saw him, I thought of my neighbor. Now that I’ve…calmed down—” she tried to smile “—that doesn’t seem entirely logical.”

Blake looked at the security guard. “We’ll handle it from here and see that Miss Wilson gets home safely.”

The guard nodded. “We’ve put one of our in-house men outside to help the outdoor guards patrol for the rest of this shift. Likely the man she saw is long gone, but we’ll make sure everyone leaving tonight is safe.”

He left them, and Blake pulled over a chair. “Miss Wilson, I’m aware that you filed a complaint against your neighbor, Rexford Harwood, a week ago.”

She stared down at her hands. They were clasped so tightly that her nails were red.

He leaned toward her. “Ma’am, we’ve sent a patrolman to Mr. Harwood’s house now to see if he was at home this evening when you encountered the man in the parking lot.”

Petra’s heart sank. “I’m not sure it was him tonight. I just…it frightened me because of what happened last week. And yesterday he walked past my house and…”

“And what? Did he do something then?”

“Not really.” She felt her lip tremble.

“Did he threaten you?”

“I…” She exhaled heavily. “Please, I’d like to go home. My dog will need to go out, and I’d just like to forget about this.”

“Fine.” Blake stood. “Let me walk out to your car with you, then I’ll pull my patrol car up close, and I’ll follow you to your house.”

She stared up at him. “Is that necessary?”

“You think a particular person is targeting you. I thought you’d appreciate an escort home. I can check around your house if you’d like.”

She felt suddenly foolish. Even if a mugger had planned to attack her, he wouldn’t go to her house. And if by some wild chance Rex had waited for her in the parking lot, he certainly wouldn’t hang around her house now that the police were alerted.

She almost refused the officer’s escort. But if she did that, would they see it as confirmation that the man in the parking lot wasn’t really Rex, and that the mental association she’d made was the result of an overactive imagination?

The officer walked beside her to her car without speaking. She drove home sitting bolt-upright on the car seat, very aware of the squad car following a few yards behind.

Another police car sat in her driveway. At least the lights were off so the whole neighborhood wouldn’t wake up to flashing blue strobes. She eased her car past it into the garage and waited until Blake and the second officer entered. As usual, Mason was barking on the other side of the kitchen door.

“My dog is very friendly.”

Blake nodded.

Her hand trembled as she unlocked the door between the garage and the house.

The officers stepped into the kitchen behind her. Mason let out another bark and lunged forward.

“Down!” Petra grabbed Mason’s collar before he could reach Blake, not that there was any danger. He’d probably jump up and try to give the man a kiss.

Her stomach twisted as she recognized the second officer—Stenwick, the one who’d responded the night she saw the murder. Just what she needed.

The big patrolman jerked his chin up and glared at the dog. Petra pointed silently at Mason, releasing his collar, and he slunk to his bed.

Her hand shook so badly that she was surprised Mason had obeyed. She sank into one of the oak chairs at the kitchen table.

“W-won’t you sit down, Officers?”

“Thanks, there’s no need,” Stenwick said. “I just came to tell you that Mr. Harwood feels you are harassing him.”

“That’s…ludicrous.”

“No, ma’am, it’s not, from what he tells me. Now, I advised him that I would speak to you about keeping your distance and keeping your dog under control.”

“My dog?” She stared at him. The tight, breathless feeling returned.

“Yes, ma’am. Mr. Harwood says your dog trespassed on his property about a month ago and did some minor damage. We have a report of the incident.”

Petra jumped up. “Mason didn’t damage anything! I asked Mr. Harwood at the time if there was anything I needed to have taken care of, and he said no, just keep Mason out of his yard. And I have!”

The officer shook his head, a resigned look in his eyes. “Well, Miss Wilson, all I know is that we have a record of his complaint against your dog, followed by an accusation you made last week, saying Mr. Harwood injured or killed a woman, for which our investigators found no evidence. Tonight you called in and said he attacked you in the parking lot at your workplace.”

Petra gasped. “That is not what I said. And I did not call the police, either. The hospital guard did that.”

Stenwick looked at Blake.

Blake cleared his throat and consulted his notebook. “That’s correct. Miss Wilson reported a man chased her in the parking lot. The subject possibly had a weapon. And he was tall and built like her neighbor, but she couldn’t see his face clearly. She couldn’t make a positive identification.”

Stenwick stood silent for a moment. “And no one else saw this man in the parking lot?”

Petra pushed herself to her feet.

“You think I’m making up things because Rex Harwood called the dog officer on me once?”

“No, ma’am, I’m not saying that. All I’m saying is, I advise you to stay away from the Harwoods, leave them alone, and keep your dog hitched.”

His scolding tone was identical to the one her mother had used when she and her sister Sharon were caught thirty years ago using several of their father’s silk neckties to hold the poles together on their teepee.

She bowed her head, unable to look at Stenwick any longer. Inside, her frustration grew.

“All right, then.” The officer opened the door.

Blake hesitated. “Would you like me to look around the house, ma’am?”

“No, thank you. I’m sure my dog will alert me if anyone comes around here.”

Stenwick eyed her once more, then gave a curt nod and headed for his cruiser.

“Good night, ma’am,” said Blake.

Petra watched them from the doorway. They stopped for a moment between their cars and spoke in low tones. She reached up and savagely punched the button to close the garage door.

She turned back into the kitchen and locked the door, blinking back tears.

“What am I going to do?” she whispered.

Mason tiptoed from his bed to her side and nuzzled her hand. She stroked his head absently.

If they don’t arrest Rex Harwood, he’ll kill again someday. And I could be his next victim.

At the gift shop’s Memorial Day grand opening, Joe entered the crowded store with caution. His eyes roved over the bustling scene. Keilah was at the cash register and Bethany was helping customers. He spotted Petra at last, standing behind a white-swathed table that held a coffee urn, a punch bowl, a huge bouquet of yellow roses and several platters of small pastries.

Joe’s heart beat faster as he watched her. Petra was attractive in jeans and a polo shirt last week when she’d come to unpack crates, but she was gorgeous today in a flowered sundress and sandals. Her auburn hair shimmered, and he caught the green spark of her eyes from across the room. Every move was graceful as she poured coffee and punch for the customers.

He edged gingerly between the displays toward the refreshment table. Why did women like stores full of breakable stuff, anyway? A woman pushed a stroller past him in the aisle, and he turned sideways so his broad shoulders wouldn’t brush the wind chimes or hanging, stained-glass mobiles. Even so, the chimes tinkled behind him. At the end of the aisle, empty floor space before Petra’s table allowed him more elbow room, and he let out his pent-up breath.

“Hey! Good to see you.” Petra’s jade eyes sparkled, and she placed a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. “Sugar’s right there.”

He raised one eyebrow and smiled. She’d noticed how he took his coffee. That was a good sign. On the other hand, he noted a tense line at the corner of her mouth. “Things going all right?”

“Super for the gift shop. Not so good for me.” She looked over at him with a crooked smile. Joe sensed he was a goner right then, though his past whispered, “Caution.”

“Anything I can help with?”

She poured a cup of coffee for another customer. In a slack moment, she threw him a sidelong glance. “Remember what we talked about last week?”

“I sure do.” He saw Bethany looking their way and smiled.

“I almost called you Wednesday night,” Petra said.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because it was after midnight, and in the sober light of morning, I decided to wait until I could talk to you in person.”

“Oh? New developments?”

“You might say that.”

A customer approached, eyeing the punch, and Petra broke off with an, “Excuse me” and flashed the smile that had brought him back here today.
All right, I’m dazzled.
But his sharp eyes also caught the little wrinkle in her forehead that spelled anxiety. He wished he could smooth that away for her.

Keilah approached him. “Joe, you’ve got a phone call.”

“Oh, thanks.” He placed his empty coffee cup on the table. “Excuse me. I’ll take it next door.”

“I’ll tell them,” Keilah said.

Joe nodded at Petra. “See you later.”

The connecting door was blocked by a display rack. They had agreed that door would only be used for the phone line, so he headed for the front entrance. In his office, he grabbed his phone with one hand, loosening his tie with the other.

“This is Joe Tarleton. May I help you?”

“Yes, Mr. Tarleton. This is Belinda Stiles-Brackett.”

He suppressed a groan. His divorce case. “Yes, ma’am. Did you decide whether you want to go on with the investigation, or have I given you enough data?” He slumped in his chair and put his feet on his desk, prepared to let her talk for five or ten minutes. In his honest opinion, if she had a psychologist to pour her heart out to once a week, she wouldn’t be thinking of divorce. But she had sneered at his suggestion of putting the money she was paying him toward counseling.

At last she wound down and he reluctantly agreed to check out her attorney husband’s movements on Wednesday night, when he claimed he had a business meeting over dinner, after which he planned to attend the city council meeting. Sounded simple enough.