Mary Baxter Lynn

Pulse Points


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had never been questioned by the police. Now that she had, it wouldn’t go down as one of her most treasured memories.

      

      Maybe that was why Spiller’s presence couldn’t alleviate her anxiety even though she was home, out from under the prying eyes of his cohort. Her stomach continued to heave as reality struck her like a blow. She had witnessed the brutal taking of another person’s life—her friend and partner. Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked several times.

      She hoped Shirley hadn’t suffered, that she hadn’t known what hit her. Kasey pulled the afghan under her chin and once again tried to focus her thoughts elsewhere. It didn’t work. Her mind rebelled.

      Had the killer seen her?

      No. He couldn’t have. He had never known she was there.

      But what if he had?

      That question kept haunting her. What if she was wrong and he was just biding his time until he came after her, thinking she could identify him? That thought almost brought Kasey’s heart to a standstill.

      Apparently Gallain had thought so or he wouldn’t have put her under protective watch. But for now, she was safe in her home. Her gaze touched on things that surrounded her—familiar things such as pictures, plants, books and even her chintz-covered furniture. The fact that the latter needed replacing, and she’d grieved over the fact she hadn’t the means to do that, no longer seemed important.

      Tomorrow, however, she would have to leave this security and deal with Shirley’s untimely death, a death that had a profound and life-altering effect on her.

      Kasey reached for the remote control and switched on the television, hoping to catch the late news. No doubt the murder would make headlines on the local stations, as well as in the papers, for days to come. In addition, the gossip mill would be churning.

      Although Rushmore had a population of over a hundred thousand, it still had many qualities of a small East Texas town. People made it their business to know their neighbors’ business.

      Kasey concentrated on the television. News of the bone-chilling murder was indeed being played out in vivid detail. Unable to view the crime scene again, she shifted her gaze and listened, mainly to see if anyone else had come forward as a witness. No such luck.

      Kasey wasn’t surprised. She had known all along she had been the only person in the garage other than Shirley and the killer. Who was he? Who had despised Shirley so much that he wanted her dead? Was her death perhaps business related? Or personal?

      A long time ago Shirley might have confided in her and vice versa, but their old friendship had been damaged by recent events. Since her husband Mark’s death two years ago, Kasey had been working in an advertising agency in Dallas. While it had been an okay job, it in no way met her financial obligations or fueled her dream of bettering herself, perhaps one day owning her own agency.

      So when Shirley had contacted her and offered her a partnership in her agency in Rushmore where Kasey had been born and reared, she had been ecstatic, certain life was about to turn around and take on a new dimension.

      “You can’t imagine what this call means to me,” Kasey had said following Shirley’s offer. “Although I’m not anywhere near worthy of this opportunity,” she added. “I’ve only been back in the workplace for two years, and I’m awfully rusty in a lot of areas.”

      

      “I don’t believe that for a second,” Shirley responded. “Besides—”

      Kasey cut her off, anxious to square things from the get-go. “More than that, I don’t have any money to buy into the business.” She paused, trying to figure out how to tell Shirley the truth and keep her pride intact.

      She had thought Mark had been a good provider, only to learn upon his death that they were on the brink of financial disaster. For two years she had struggled with her feelings of betrayal and the financial albatross around her neck. To date, she hadn’t won either battle.

      “We can work something out,” Shirley said into the growing silence. “Bottom line, I need help. The agency’s grown too much for me to handle alone. I need someone whom I can trust and who will do a good job.” She paused with a chuckle. “Kasey Ellis immediately came to mind.”

      “While those words are so good for my ego, I’m still not sure I’m the right person. After all—”

      This time it was Shirley who interrupted. “After all nothing. Remember we go back a long way, and I know what you’re capable of doing.”

      In retrospect, she knew Shirley was right. She had introduced Kasey to the world of advertising, having given her her first job during high school. Kasey had worked summers for her. Although a decade plus separated them in age, they had become friends. While they had lost touch over the intervening years, Kasey had not forgotten Shirley or how much she had taught her about the business.

      Shirley had gone on to insist she come to Rushmore, see the agency, then they would talk. Kasey had done just that, impressed far beyond her wildest imagination at Shirley’s accomplishments. Maybe the fact that she’d devoted herself to her career, choosing never to marry and have a family, had been the contributing factor to her success in the business world.

      “Having seen what I’m all about, are you interested?” Shirley had asked several days later over coffee in the small kitchen in the rear of the agency.

      Kasey hadn’t answered immediately, studying Shirley from under long thick lashes. The years had been kind to her friend. Though fifty-two, she could pass for forty-two. Her dark, grayless hair was short and stylish. Her complexion was flawless, and her hazel eyes were deep and lovely. The designer suit she wore made the most of her tall buxom figure. Kasey couldn’t imagine how she’d managed to remain single.

      “So, what’s the verdict?”

      Shirley’s question jarred Kasey back to the moment. “Actually, I’m in awe and slightly overwhelmed.”

      Not only was the agency housed in a plush high-rise office complex, it had become the largest and most successful firm in the city with a more than adequate staff. The idea that she would ever be a part of something so successful was more than Kasey could take in.

      As if Shirley sensed Kasey’s inner struggle, she chuckled, then said, “Don’t make this more complicated than it is. Just take the opportunity at face value and run with it.”

      That was exactly what she’d done. That day they had worked out terms of a contract and Kasey had made the move. Now, six months later, she was sowing what she had so hastily reaped. She should have known when something appeared to be too good to be true, it usually was.

      Like she’d told Gallain, she had been assured by Shirley that the agency was solvent and thriving. Shortly after her arrival in Rushmore, the sure thing Shirley had dangled like a carrot hadn’t borne out.

      Hence, Kasey had felt betrayed once again by someone she trusted. She had been in the process of weighing her options, but now, with Shirley’s sudden demise, her options were clear. She had no choice but to close the floundering agency and seek work elsewhere.

      Kasey’s emotions suddenly surged and that queasy feeling returned to her stomach. What had seemed so wonderful and challenging had turned into a hideous nightmare that showed no signs of ending.

      Beside her the phone rang; she flinched. When she checked the caller ID and saw who it was, her bleak situation suddenly brightened. It was her son Brock calling from Waco where he was a freshman at Baylor University.

      “Hey, darling, I’m so glad you called,” she said to her son, her voice breaking.

      “Mom, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”

      She should’ve been more careful. Since his dad’s death, she had forgotten how Brock had matured far beyond his eighteen years and how intuitive he had become where she was concerned.

      “No, but it hasn’t been one