What was it Harley had said? He had a feeling that tonight’s show was going to be quite a broadcast.
Harley! Of course! She should have guessed.
This had to be one of his publicity stunts. He wanted to scare her into thinking someone was about to commit a crime in Oxford. If she went on the air and mentioned a menacing e-mail, they’d probably get a flood of calls.
Oh, the gall of that man to scare her so. With clenched fists she strode toward the office door and flung it open. Harley stood just down the hall talking to Michael Grayson, head of the sales department. “Harley! I need to see you now.”
Michael pivoted and glared at her. “Wait your turn, C.J. He’s mine right now.”
C.J. stopped, her stomach roiling. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen Harley and Michael arguing. Splotches of red covered Michael’s craggy face, and a muscle twitched in his jaw.
Michael pushed his glasses up on his hawklike nose, the French cuffs of his Prada shirt slipping up to reveal a diamond-studded watch with an alligator band, and pointed his finger at Harley. “Now you listen to me, hotshot. If it wasn’t for my staff, you wouldn’t have any sponsors for C.J.’s Journal, or any of your other shows. You’d better watch your step or you’ll find yourself without any financial backing, and you’ll be off the air. Got it?”
Harley chuckled. “Sure, Mike. But from where I sit, your guys wouldn’t have anything to sell if it wasn’t for the interest my programs generate. Now get out there and do your job, and leave mine to me.”
Harley turned away, but Michael grabbed his arm. “Just remember that you’ve been warned.”
Harley pulled away from the restraining hand and swaggered down the hall toward C.J. “Now, doll. What can I do for you?”
C.J. couldn’t take her eyes off Michael’s angry face. He’d intimidated her since the first day she’d walked into the radio station, and now he was threatening her program. She couldn’t let Harley’s cocky attitude ruin what she’d worked so hard to achieve.
She glanced in Michael’s direction. “Are you having trouble with the salespeople again?”
Harley waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
The e-mail flashed into her mind. “How could you do that to me?”
His eyebrows arched. “What are you talking about?”
“That e-mail! What are you trying to do—scare me to death?”
Harley studied her for a moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She grabbed his arm, pulled him inside her office and propelled him to her desk chair. She pointed a shaking finger at the computer screen. “This is what I’m talking about.”
Harley leaned forward as he read the e-mail. After a few moments, he chuckled. “Do you think I sent this?”
She crossed her arms. “Yes.”
“Well, I didn’t. Don’t have any idea who did, but I kinda like it.”
The man never ceased to amaze her. “What?”
“Yeah. This means you’ve struck a nerve somewhere, and this lunatic wants to make you squirm a little. Congratulations. This is the kind of stuff that can keep listeners tuning in.”
“Harley, you’re impossible. I don’t want to attract crazy people.”
“This guy probably just wants some attention. Nobody’s gonna talk about a crime before they commit it.” He tilted his head as if in thought. A slow smile pulled at his lips. “Of course, we could run with this tonight and see if the mysterious e-mailer will call in to talk.”
C.J. backed away from him, her head shaking back and forth. “Don’t you even suggest it, Harley. I’m not about to encourage people like this.”
“Aw, C.J. C’mon. It could be…”
“No!”
“But…”
She grabbed her purse from the desk. “I’ll be out of here in two minutes if you don’t go along with me on this.”
Harley was a head shorter than she was, but his determination could make her resolve slip. He’d done it before. But not this time. Her phone rang, breaking the silence between them. She straightened her shoulders and ignored it, her gaze never wavering from his.
Finally, he grinned and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Okay, have it your way. But I think it’s a mistake.”
She didn’t say anything, and after a few moments he headed toward the door. When he’d disappeared down the hall, she sank down in her desk chair and read the message again. Was somebody really about to die?
If this was the kind of people who were tuning in to her program, maybe the talk show wasn’t worth it. But then that would mean that Mitch had been right all along. With a groan she closed the e-mail program and sat there, staring at the blank screen.
The words, no longer visible on the screen, appeared in her mind as if they’d been seared into her innermost thoughts. She crossed her arms and hugged her body to stop the trembling that swept through her. If the message was to be believed, four people were walking around Oxford unaware that death was stalking them. She had no idea who they were or why she had been chosen to rescue them from the evil they were about to encounter.
“If only I could warn them,” she whispered.
Mitch didn’t know what made him take the long route to work and then turn down the street where C.J. lived. He knew he wouldn’t see her. By this time of morning, she’d already been at the radio station for hours. Maybe it was a leftover habit from picking her up to go out, or it could be that he just wanted to feel close to her again. At times during the last month he’d thought he would go out of his mind from wanting to see her, talk to her or just sit quietly and hold her hand.
He could still envision her as she was two years ago when she’d interviewed him about a murder in Oxford. He’d been surprised when she informed him that she remembered him from college. He had no recollection of her, but in later weeks he couldn’t understand how he’d missed out on someone so special.
For him no other woman would ever measure up to C.J. She was beautiful with her long, brown hair and hazel eyes, but that was only part of the attraction he felt toward her. Behind her flashing eyes was an intelligence he felt he could never quite match. And because she never tried to appear superior to anyone, it only increased the magnetism she radiated.
When she broke the engagement, it had caught him completely off guard. He’d known she was under a lot of stress getting the new show started. They’d disagreed about her doing it, just as they had disagreed about her refusal to acknowledge any need for God in her life. The arguments had never gotten heated, or at least he hadn’t thought so.
Patrolling the streets of Oxford for several years before being promoted to detective had taught him how dangerous situations could become in the blink of an eye. It had also reinforced his belief that he couldn’t get through the day without
