Don't Close Your Eyes by Carlene Thompson Page B

shoot.”
    A pause. Then: “Dr. St. John?”
    She recognized his voice. “Sheriff Meredith.”
    “Who was shooting?”
    “I was. Only once.”
    “You! What’s going on?”
    “Please take the light out of my eyes, but don’t lower your gun. Someone is in here. Someone threatened to kill me.”
    The light shifted slightly. Blaine remained tensed and growled steadily. Natalie put a hand on her head to calm her. “Who is trying to kill you?” the sheriff asked.
    “I don’t know. There was a woman’s voice. It seemed to be coming from the band area. I couldn’t see anyone, though.” She hesitated. “She said she was Tamara.”
    “Tamara? Tamara Hunt?”
    That’s it, Natalie said to herself. He thinks I’m drunk or crazy. “She said she was Tamara. Then I heard someone coming toward me and I fired.”
    “I see.” The sheriff played the flashlight around the room, but whoever it had been was gone. Natalie knew that even before he searched the band area and backstage. “Back door is open,” he said when he finally returned to her. “You didn’t come in that way, did you?”
    “No. I came in the front door. The padlock was open.”
    “So you just strolled in.”
    “I thought someone might be hurt.”
    “Come out to the car with me.”
    Natalie followed meekly. He’d yelled, “We’re coming in,” but he was alone. Clearly he didn’t want whoever was inside to know he had no backup. In the patrol car she told him
     
    everything that had happened. When she finished, he was silent for a moment, staring straight ahead at The Blue Lady. Finally he said, “Do you know how dangerous it was for you to come here in the middle of the night?”
    “I do now.”
    “But not before?”
    “I had my dog. And my gun.”
    “I assume you have a permit for the gun.”
    “Absolutely,” she said virtuously.
    “But not a permit to carry.”
    “Well… uh… no. But I have completed a course in marksmanship and gun safety and I finished with flying colors.”
    “I’m thrilled for you,” he said dryly. “You still broke the law.”
    “Are you going to arrest me?”
    “I’m thinking about it.”
    Natalie’s confidence fell further. Was carrying a weapon without a permit a felony or a misdemeanor? What was the sentence? Was she going to end up in jail because of her stupid night stroll?
    “Look, Sheriff, I told you I wanted to walk but only in front of my house. Then the dog started barking and ran away. I followed her. She came to the dance pavilion.”
    “Why the pavilion?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe she was chasing whoever was inside. Maybe that person had been close to me—I couldn’t see in the fog—then ran to the pavilion when the dog started barking.”
    “The doors were unlocked. Someone didn’t decide to hide in there on the spur of the moment,” the sheriff said slowly. “The whole thing could have been a set-up to lead you there.”
    “I guess you’re right,” Natalie said weakly, horrified by her close call.
    “So the dog ran off, you went in hot pursuit, and then you charged into a deserted building. And then Tamara spoke to you.”
     
    “I did not charge into the building. I went in cautiously thinking maybe someone was inside and injured,” she repeated. “And I told you the person said she was Tamara. I didn’t say it was Tamara. I’m not a lunatic.” He gave her a doubtful look that said he wasn’t too sure. “Actually, the voice was slightly different than Tam’s. It was more breathy. A little more dramatic.” She hesitated. “I got a call this afternoon, supposedly from Tamara. I’m sure it was the same person.”
    “A call?”
    “Yes. She talked about their mouth being an open tomb.”
    “What the hell does that mean?”
    “I don’t know. It’s something from the Bible. Romans, Chapter Three. She just told me that inside.”
    “I thought she said it on the phone.”
    “She said it again inside.”
    “Do you have any idea who made that call?”
    “No. We