Bullet in the Night
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Authors: Judith Rolfs
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Bullet in the Night
Judith Rolfs
Copyright © 2014 Judith Rolfs
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Cover Art by Joan Alley
Editing by Paula Mowery
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are the product of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet or any other means without the permission of Prism Book Group. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Published by Prism Book Group
ISBN-10: 1940099609 ISBN-13: 978-1-940099-60-6
Published in the United States of America
Contact info:
[email protected]
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
Tucker Lawrence barged into my office and collapsed onto a chair. His lower lip trembled as he blurted out, “Lenora’s been shot.”
Instantly my world turned cold and dark despite sunbeams streaming through the window. My heart began to pound. Usually no one gets past my office manager, Ellen, not even a six-foot-six man with the intimidating posture of a redwood tree. Good thing my next client hadn’t arrived yet.
Dressed in khakis, dark blue silk shirt, and dry-cleaner-perfect linen jacket, Tucker could have been mistaken for a GQ model. His face, framed by a silver-gray beard, had held its handsomeness well for sixty years. He sat inert as if saying the words sucked the strength from his body.
“What? It can’t be.” I covered my gaping mouth with my hand. Stupid response. Like words could change this unthinkable horror.
“One bullet, only one, and it penetrated her right lung as she sat at her desk. She’s alive, but comatose.” Tucker’s breathing came in bursts. “The ER doctor says the oxygen level to her brain was impaired. Lenora lapsed into shock before the paramedics arrived. Even if she survives, her prognosis for recovering normal functioning is poor.” Tucker clenched his fists.
I blinked away tears but couldn’t control the sick feeling in my stomach. I pictured my vivacious, compassionate friend. When Lenora walked into a room, it lit up like Christmas.
How could she be near death? I shivered and reached for my suit jacket on the back of my chair.
Numb, I stared at the furrow in Tucker’s forehead. “Counseling people isn’t law enforcement. It shouldn’t be dangerous.
When Lenora and I became psychotherapists, we didn’t expect the job would involve physical risk.”
“Exactly.”
“May I see her?”
“Sorry. No visitors except family, and I’m all she has.” Tucker dragged a handkerchief from his pocket. “I’ve been at the hospital all night.” He blew his nose. “Not that she knew.”
“Who would do this?” I rifled through papers on my desk nervously. ”A disturbed client? Why shoot such a sweet champion of goodness?”
“My feelings too.”
“Was it a robbery?”
Tucker shook his head. “As far as I can tell nothing’s missing.”
He eyed my coffee pot in the corner.
“Would you like—?”
He was already moving toward it.
The brown liquid dribbling into the paper cup seemed surreal in this moment. I considered Tucker as he drank. Fragile, fearful? Why had he come here in person to tell me?
As if reading my thoughts, he answered. “It happened last night, too late to make the morning news. I knew Lenora would want you to know and pray.”
“Of course.”
Strange request coming from Tucker. Had this crisis suddenly changed his beliefs? Doubtful. More likely he was anticipating what would be Lenora’s wishes.
“And I came to ask a favor,” he added.
“Anything I can do to help.”
“Lenora has several counseling clients she sees at her office in our home. They’ll need to be notified. Hearing about this on the news could upset them even more. Then can you follow up with them if they wish?”
“Absolutely. I’ll make time. What about her clients through the foundation?” My eyes smarted thinking of the rehab work Lenora did with prisoners. “Do you need me to make those calls also?”
“The Second Chance board is on top of everything.”
“Okay.” It seemed such an impotent word. Nothing in Tucker’s world could seem okay. “It’s all so mystifying, to say the least
,”
I murmured, shaking my head.
Tucker took another gulp of coffee.
I pressed him for more details. Part of me didn’t want to hear, yet I had to know.
“Lenora was at her desk in the den. The bullet whizzed through the screen. She probably had no warning.”
My stomach tightened. “Who found her?”
“Kirk Corsini called the police.”
“The man she hired?”
“The
ex-con
she hired.” His tone made it clear he hadn’t agreed with Lenora’s decision. “If only I’d been there…”
“Were you still at your job in the city?”
“Monday through Thursday, as usual.” Tucker’s voice edged with sadness. “Kirk would know my routine, catching the last train Thursday night.” His voice trailed off. “The police suspect he shot her.”
“What would be his motive?”
“Kirk had his job review last night. It may have been what set him off. The police found Lenora’s notes on her desk, indicating areas where he needed improvement.”
“Hardly a reason for attempted murder.” Hearing the word, I squirmed in my chair. How could I know this ex-convict’s thought process?
“He could have had a rifle in his car, left upset, then doubled back, hiked into the woods, and shot her. Then hid the gun before he came back to the house to call for medical help.”
My eyes widened. “Why call an ambulance if he intended to kill her?”
Tucker shrugged. “Remorse after the act? Or to throw off suspicion? I’ve warned Lenora about being too trusting with these felons.”
“Still…why shoot your benefactor? A confrontation about work skills didn’t mean she intended to fire him. Or did she?”
“I don’t know.” He ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Maybe it was just a warning but it scared him. Who knows the workings of a criminal mind?”
“Did the police find the weapon?”
“Not yet.”
Lenora had a strong passion to help ex-convicts. How horrible for her attacker to be someone she’d rehabilitated. She’d bragged to me about Kirk being her first success story when she’d hired him as the Second Chance rehab counselor. How many people would be dissuaded from helping ex-cons if they read about consequences such as this? “Tucker, I’d give Kirk every benefit of the doubt at this point. That’s what Lenora would want.”
Tucker pressed his palms together. “She had to be wrong about this man.”
“She’s usually an excellent judge of character. I find it hard to believe she’d make such a mistake.”
Tucker raised his voice. “No one’s judgment is infallible.”
“Perhaps I can assist with the investigation. Maybe one of her clients will know something. Lenora may have told you I’ve helped with a criminal case before.”
“Thanks, but your sleuthing isn’t necessary. The police are quite competent, and there’s no doubt in my mind Kirk shot her. I’m not surprised. I’ve never shared my wife’s enthusiasm for social engineering.”
I stared at him. “But you helped establish the Second Chance Foundation?”
“Because I love my wife.” He lifted his chin and gritted his teeth. “Rescuing people was my wife’s love.”
“An awesome undertaking.”
He seemed not to hear me. “Kirk will be punished.” He studied his hand then pounded his right fist into his left palm. “I’m going to personally see to it.” Tucker stood.
I said nothing. He might be right about Kirk, but the fact Kirk called for an ambulance made me skeptical. I decided to do a little checking on my own. If Kirk carried a ton of repressed anger, Lenora should have glimpsed it with her skills of perception and stayed clear. Sometimes I disliked being a psychotherapist, always questioning. Might someone else have reason to harm Lenora?
“Lenora must have a file on Kirk. May I stop by tonight when you’re back from the hospital to collect it and get the names and numbers for those clients you want me to contact?”
“Fine. Come after nine.”
I followed him to the door and patted his shoulder. “Nick and I will pray for Lenora’s complete healing and for your strength through this.”
Tucker straightened his jacket. “Thanks for caring. Lenora is all I have…” He dragged himself through the doorway.
I stared at my hands, needing something tangible to assure myself this visit had been real.
If Lenora’s attacker wasn’t Kirk, her shooter was still out there, and she wasn’t safe even in the hospital.
I taught clients to guard themselves emotionally and keep their personal lives separate from their work through appropriate boundaries, vital for a healthy life. Truth was, I often abandoned my own rules.
