Nowhere Safe by Nancy Bush Page B

did the detective say?” he asked again.
    With a sigh, Janet gave in. “There was another incident like your dad’s, only that guy lived.”
    “What do you mean?”
    Reluctantly, she told him about the man who’d been tied to the pole at the school. “His name’s Steven Harmer, or something like that, but I suppose now they’ll rake it all up again.”
    “Jesus, that’s what Jamie meant.”
    Jamie was his girlfriend. A sneaky little junior high horror story, if ever there was one. “What did Jamie say?” she asked, trying to keep the snarl from her voice.
    “She saw it on the news. Some guy zip-tied to a pole at Twin Oaks. Left in his boxers, like Dad. They said it was a prank.”
    “Well, the detective said they think both this Steven Harmer or Harner and your dad were targeted by the same person.” She got some perverse satisfaction out of watching the color drain from her son’s face. “You can tell Jamie it was no prank. There’s some crazy man out there, randomly attacking people, and he killed your dad.” She sniffled, calling up some real tears. She’d loved Chris. She really had. It just made her so mad sometimes that he hadn’t gone for that promotion. He could have been the postmaster of the West Laurelton office if he’d just tried a little harder. Had she nagged him? A little, maybe, but Chris had always needed a push. And wasn’t that what wives were for?
    “Why?” her son asked her. “What’s this other guy’s name again? Steven what?” He was already turning away.
    “I can’t remember exactly. It started with an H .” Then, as he pulled his cell phone from a pocket of his low-riding jeans, she said, exasperated, “You’re going to go look it up on your phone, aren’t you?”
    “On the Internet,” he answered.
    She wanted to throw something. Chris Jr.’s last birthday gift had been a smartphone—his father’s idea, and a bad one, as far as Janet was concerned. It gave him all the more reason to ignore her and half the time she wanted to snatch it out of his hands and throw it away. Except it was expensive.
    “Don’t step on that plate,” she called after him. “And bring it back here.”
    Maybe she should stop paying his phone bill. She had a phone, too, but what junior high kid needed all that access? Just something to get him into trouble, and besides, without Chris’s paycheck they had to be careful, despite the life insurance policy she’d taken out on him. Oh, sure, he’d laughed at her and made her feel stupid for getting such a big policy on him, but who got the last laugh, huh?
    With that thought, she picked up her own cell phone and Googled Verizon. Clicking on the number, she idly picked up a cookie and munched away as she was waiting to be put through. My, but they were good! She could go into the business, if she had a mind to.
    “Hi, this is Janet Ballonni, and I’d like to cancel my son’s cell service,” she began as soon as someone picked up, only to realize it was a recorded message.
    “Sure, I’ll hold,” she snarled at the music coming through.
    It took forever before she got through to the billing department, and what do you know, they wouldn’t help her at all because she wasn’t the primary account holder! She screamed at them that her husband was dead and then they had a helluva nerve asking her for a death certificate. “I’ll bring it to your store tomorrow!” she shrieked, just as she heard the front door slam again. Hurrying to her post at the curtains, she saw her son walk rapidly down the driveway and then disappear down the street.
    She was so angry, she hardly knew what to do. “I’ll have to call you back!” she finally declared in frustration, slamming down the receiver and hurrying out the front door into a windy afternoon. She walked rapidly to the end of the drive and looked up and down the street.
    Chris Jr. was nowhere to be seen.
     
     
    “The Foxglove Park vic’s name is Carrie Lynne Carter. She’s suffered