Bullet in the Night Read online

  “Chris, my road rescuing angel, how nice of you to call.” I rifled through some business cards on my desk.

  “Jennifer? I expected to have to fight my way through your receptionist.”

  “You would have, but she’s away from her desk. How’s your vacation time going?” I scooped to pick up a card I’d dropped.

  “Great. I’m between tennis and golf and decided to check up on you. How’s the ankle?”

  A memory of pain glinted in my mind. “A little stiff but otherwise doing amazingly well, thanks to my prompt medical treatment. Again, I thank you.” I stacked papers on my desk, regretting a tad I’d picked up the phone. Not that I didn’t want to chat with Chris, just too busy now.

  “How’s your friend Lenora?”

  “I saw her yesterday—first time since the shooting. She still can’t communicate, but she’s being weaned gradually from the ventilator. They won’t totally remove it until they’re sure she can breathe independently.”

  “Not being able to speak must be horrible for a counselor.”

  I agreed. “When she’s off the ventilator, I’m hoping she can tell us who tried to kill her.”

  “And get out of the hospital with its risk of germs and back home.”

  “Actually, I’m concerned if it’s safe for her to return home before her assailant is behind bars.”

  “Sounds like you better hurry that up; you’re running out of time.” Chris’ voice sounded robotic to my trained ear, but then she didn’t seem to be a particularly expressive person.

  “You’ve got that right. Once she’s home, I don’t envy Tucker. Keeping an independent dynamo like Lenora calm and quiet as she regains her stamina won’t be easy.”

  “You’re no slouch yourself. Bruised, bloodied, but back at work.”

  “It’s that Puritan work ethic I can’t shake.”

  “I’ve the same problem, although, today is no indication. I can handle being a lady of leisure for a few days, then I’m ready to work again. Which is good, by the way, because I’m also attached to three meals a day and a roof to keep off the rain, all of which require a regular paycheck.”

  I laughed. “I know the feeling.”

  “I can’t complain. My skin is two shades darker than when I met you, courtesy of the spa. I’ve enjoyed every minute. Is there anything I can do to help in your investigation while I’m around? I do investigative stuff in my insurance work. I admit, I’m just a bit bored doing absolutely nothing.”

  “How nice of you to offer.” My eyes dropped to my desk, where my right hand rested on the prison list. Funny how you can pick up a little nuance. During the pause in our conversation, Chris’ breathing became uneven as I deliberated, and she waited for my answer. “I’ll keep you in mind, but things are too muddled at this point for me to delegate.”

  “You still think the original suspect, Kirk, is innocent?”

  “You know his name?” I was startled by Chris’ knowledge and by her question and didn’t try to hide my surprise.

  “I read it in the paper. You’d just said he was a reformed convict.”

  “In Lenora’s eyes only, may be the case.”

  Even though Chris had read about the situation, I couldn’t confide in her. She was virtually a stranger. All I truly knew about her was that she was kind. I closed the call on a positive note. “It’s sweet of you to check up on me, rescuer, but now I must get back to work.”

  “Sure. I think it’s cool you’re making this huge effort to help your friend. Keep at it.”

  “I will. You’re pretty good at helping people yourself. Sure you’re not an angel, after all?” I joked.

  Chris laughed. “No wings last time I looked.”

  Ellen entered my office and waved her hand for my attention. “Gotta go. Stay in touch.” I hung up and turned my attention to Ellen. “Have you arranged a meeting with Russell?”

  “I finally got through. He’ll meet you for lunch tomorrow at noon but only if you’ll drive over to his town. He doesn’t have a car.”

  “I can manage that.”

  She gave me a note with the details and map to the restaurant. “Lenora’s former counseling client, and your next one, Carrie Malone, is in the outer office filling out her intake forms.”

  “Send her in as soon as she’s completed them.”

  I picked up a pen and began to conjure up possible questions to ask Russell. No way would I meet this man anywhere but a public place. Who knew what sort of person Russell was?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Carrie Malone clutched her duffel-bag-sized purse to her chest like a toddler’s security blanket. Short blunt hair with straight bangs framed her face. She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds. Her eyes darted around my office.

  Conflict marred my emotions. Sadness for her, yet eagerness to quiz her about the day Lenora was shot. Being disrupted in the midst of productive counseling once a relationship had been established with a therapist could be difficult at best, traumatic at worst.

  This was true of Carrie Malone, Sandy Reckland, and whoever else was at Lenora’s for counseling the day she was shot. A few nursery rhymes came unbidden to mind. First, Three Blind Mice. Would these women be like three blind mice that had seen nothing? Or like the three little pigs that had seen the big, bad wolf? If so, could one of them have knowledge leading to the identity of Lenora’s assailant? I was desperate to find this person before she was attacked again.

  Carrie extended a skinny arm to give me a weak finger-squeeze handshake. “I’m glad you had your secretary call, Dr. Trevor. I couldn’t sleep all night after I heard about Dr. Lawrence. It’s terrible. I sure appreciate what you’re doing.”

  “The news shocked me as well.” I offered her tea or coffee, both of which she declined. I took a sip from my mug of mint tea while glancing over Carrie’s paperwork. I used my vocal chords more than average and needed lots of liquid.

  Carrie’s previous intake form from Lenora read: “Twenty-four years old, two children, ages five and three, married at eighteen. Primary presenting problem: ‘Husband constantly puts her down—verbally abusive, unfaithful, threatens divorce.’”

  “Carrie,” I began. “I have your records here. I appreciate that you authorized their release, but I’d like you to tell me in your own words why you originally went to see Lenora for counseling.”

  Her face reddened, and she lowered her head. “Three months ago my husband, Rob, said he no longer wanted to be married. He was leaving me the end of that week. At the last minute he changed his mind and decided to stay. I suspect his girlfriend changed her mind about him, but I never said nothing except I was glad. Things never have been good between us. We argue all the time.”

  “What sort of issues cause the conflict?” I probed gently.

  Carrie turned her palms up in a helpless gesture. “I never know what will set him off. The way I talk isn’t right or the kids do something and he blames me. He starts yelling I’m no good, and he never should have married me. His mother never did like me, and she tells him he made a mistake marrying me, and he wants me to know what she thinks of me, that kind of stuff. It goes on and on.”

  “Has he ever physically harmed you?

  “Nothing big.”

  “Small ways count too.”

  “I get nervous if he’s been drinking. Rob’s into bodybuilding and health so he doesn’t drink often, thank God, ’cause he gets bad then.” She raised her eyes toward the ceiling. “I know a lot of the badmouthing he does about me is true,” Carrie confided. “I am dumb.”

  I clenched my teeth and pressed my automatic lead pencil so hard the point broke off. How I hated these kinds of statements. Like many women, deep down Carrie felt she somehow deserved her husband’s diatribes and abuse. “Carrie, I bet you’re a lot smarter than you think you are. How are things with you and your husband since you started counseling?”

  “Still not good. Soon after I began my sessions with Lenora, I made some changes. I try not to let R
ob talk down to me no more. I told him we’re through if he ever hits me again. Lenora said to say it and mean it. I do now. I’m stronger than I was before counseling.”

  “Excellent.”

  Carrie flicked her lower lip with her tongue. “And I said he had to sleep in the rec room if he was going to stay out past midnight. He can’t be waking me and the kids up all hours.”

  “Good, you used your God-given mouth with wisdom and grace, telling him he must stop these behaviors. I’m delighted Lenora helped you establish better boundaries. We can continue to build on them.”

  “Yeah, that’s what she said I needed to do; it’s still hard for me. Rob didn’t like one bit me using tough love like Lenora taught me. Next, she wanted Rob to come to counseling with me, but he wouldn’t. Even called her himself. I heard him yelling on the phone. It kinda worried me.”

  “Why?”

  She cast a glance at the door. “This is confidential, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “For a second, only a second, mind you, when I heard about Lenora being shot, I thought…well once he’d told me he’d kill Lenora and me if she didn’t stop filling my head with nonsense.” Her eyes fastened on mine. “I know he didn’t mean nothing by his threat to her.”

  “He said that to her?” My pulse picked up. “Were the police informed of this?”

  “Lenora said she wouldn’t report him, but it better not ever happen again. You won’t tell the police now?”

  “Carrie, if Lenora’s in danger, I must. Remember the form you signed? Our conversation is confidential, unless someone’s life is in danger.”

  Her face drained of color. “Rob’d never hurt Lenora; he’s all talk. He’s that way all the time with me, and like I said, he’s getting better.”

  “I hope so, for your sake and his.”

  “Lenora wasn’t scared. She still said he should come for counseling. He finally agreed.” Carrie’s smile flashed as if someone had promised her a world cruise then her mouth drooped. “That was shortly before this happened.”

  Alarm bells flashed in my brain. Was he really all talk? Had his change of heart been all show, a diversion from his real intention to hurt Lenora?

  Carrie hunted for a tissue. I returned my focus to her and gestured toward the box on the table between the wing back chairs. She took hesitant childlike steps, painful to watch. The word phlegmatic described Carrie’s personality. Her gentle, laidback disposition and timidity made her vulnerable.

  Rob’s rage sounded scary.

  “Carrie, I want to be sure I understand the extent of your work with Lenora. You saw her for individual counseling how many times?”

  “Around, let me see, seven, and I would like to continue with you. I don’t want to lose what we started. ”

  “Here’s what I have in mind. I can’t see you as an individual client more than once or twice due to time restraints, but if I form a small group with some of Lenora’s other current clients, would you be interested?”

  Her ponytail bobbed up and down. “I like counseling. We talked about what’s right and what’s not in a relationship. When I went to my first session, Rob wanted me to let his new girlfriend move in, and I brought that up.”

  “How upsetting that he expected you to put up with something so hurtful.”

  “Lenora encouraged me to tell him this other woman couldn’t come, and I wasn’t leaving either, but he could go. I’d be getting a lawyer. Lenora told me everything we have is half mine.”

  “That’s true.”

  “That got to him. The idea that I owned something and could hurt him financially scared Rob. It may sound crazy, but I don’t think he ever thought of that before. I know I didn’t. He started being more respectful, yelling at me less, and going hunting with the guys less. He didn’t like what Lenora was telling me one bit, but he was shaping up.”

  Carrie’s eyes widened like she still couldn’t quite believe the change in her husband.

  “Tough, tender love really works,” I said.

  “I used to let him do whatever he wanted. As a Christian, I figured I had to submit to whatever.”

  “That’s not what the Christian faith teaches.” My face flushed. The confusion Christian women had over the teachings on submission could be terribly harmful to them and their spouses. “God alone is worthy of the surrender of your will. He always can be trusted to guide you for your good.”

  “That’s sorta like what Lenora said. I used to always give in to Rob whatever. No more.”

  “Good, you’re to be loving and kind, but not a doormat. Scripture says submit to one another, and husbands should love their wives as Christ loves the church, meaning be sensitive, kind and unselfish.”

  “I like that.” Her cheeks brightened like a flower opening to the light.

  “God wants you treated with respect. It’s definitely not His will that you let your husband beat up on you emotionally or physically. You’re infinitely precious to God and so is Rob. God doesn’t want you to allow him to sin against you.”

  “Funny, Lenora said the same thing. I still need courage to work on that stuff. That’s why I came to you.”

  “Then you’ll continue counseling with me,” I flinched, “until Lenora is back?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. Based on what you’ve told me, I’d like to have you and Rob come in together for marriage work as well as have you join the group.” I explained what we’d cover in our sessions.

  “Sounds great by me. I guess I don’t need to warn you, Rob’s pretty hotheaded, but he means well. I’ll try to get him to come. I hope he will. I love him, but he makes life difficult for us.”

  “That’s what we’ll work on.”

  She smiled shyly. “Good.”

  “That’s settled. Now if you don’t mind, I have a couple of questions I’d like to ask about events on the day of Lenora’s shooting.”

  “Shoot,” she said, then blushed. “Sorry, poor word choice.”

  “I understand you were at Lenora’s house earlier on the day the shooting happened? Is this correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you notice anything unusual?”

  “Like what? I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Any difference in Lenora’s behavior or in the surroundings? Any calls she may have taken or made while you were there?”

  Carrie pursed her lips and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Umm, now that you mention it, Lenora did seem a little jumpy.”

  “How exactly?”

  “When a dog barked outside, it startled her. She got up and closed the window. I only noticed because usually she’s so calm.”

  “This is important, Carrie. Do you have any idea why she’d be anxious?”

  She shook her head from side to side. “I sure don’t know.”

  “Was anyone else there?”

  “I saw the cleaning lady carrying trash out.” She paused. “A man in a big black car was going down her drive when I drove up. I figured he was the appointment before me.”

  “What can you tell me about him?”

  “Nothing much. It was an overcast day. Sorry. I just had a glance.”

  “Did you notice what he was wearing?’

  “I think a suit coat or sports jacket. He didn’t look like a gardener or nothing.” She bent her head, rummaged in her purse and pulled out a pack of Juicy Fruit. “Want some?” she offered.

  I declined. She unwrapped a piece and stuck it in her mouth like an extension of her tongue for a second. She squeezed the wrapper neatly into a ball and dropped it back into her purse.

  I looked at my watch, amazed how fast our fifty minutes had gone. I made some concluding remarks. “Thank you, Carrie, that’s all. Before you leave, have Ellen schedule a joint appointment for you and Rob to meet with me later this week if possible.”

  “If he won’t come, should I keep the time anyway?”

  “Yes, but let’s hope he will.” I smiled and patted Carrie’s shoulder a
s I led her to the door. Precious woman, guard her Lord.

  “Keep in mind, Carrie, treasure yourself and others around you are more likely to treasure you, too.”

  How sad that the man she loved and married had an abusive tongue and dominated her. Even Christian men had to guard against meanness at home. Carrie’s situation could change if Christ got Rob’s attention.

  If men didn’t deal with their lust and anger, they destroyed the people they professed to love and anyone else who got in the way. Satan prowled about looking for relationships to devour.

  Rob Malone obviously disliked the impact Lenora was having on his wife. Might he be Lenora’s attacker? He certainly deserved a slot on my suspect list. I was eager to meet him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Pulling into my garage, I couldn’t shake my concern over Carrie. I tried not to bring counseling problems home, but tonight this was impossible. After dinner, when the kids started to watch an old Bob Hope movie, I whispered, “Nick, can we talk?”

  “What’s up?” He closed his paper and looked up.

  I put my finger to my lips and led him to the velvet-covered chairs in our bedroom. “Today I counseled a Christian gal who submits to a husband who abuses her. She married young, has been a stay-at-home wife, and her self-confidence is nil.”

  “I’m sure you told her Christ didn’t encourage women to be namby-pamby. He wouldn’t want people to submit to evil.”

  “I like the way you say that. We need more follow-up to make sure this is clear to her.”

  “I’ve got something else you’ll like.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Sweetheart, the kids are still up.”

  “They’re busy.”

  “Later.” I brushed my fingers across his lips. “Back to my subject. I hate how Satan deceives people into thinking they’re not holy, dearly loved, and a sacred dwelling place for God’s Holy Spirit.”

  “Would your client allow herself to be pushed around if she truly believed that?” Nick stood up. “Biblical principles are simple and powerful, but people have to know them and use them. We’ve both met hypocrites who only mouth them.” Nick lowered his head. “I spent years doing it. I hope people can now experience genuine Christianity through me.”