No answering cry of pain followed the gunshot. Somewhere a fog horn bellowed. Other than that there was only silence except for the loud breathing of Natalie and the dog.
"Are you still there?" Natalie asked with a quaver. "Are you hurt?"
Nothing. Blaine looked around, trembling. Natalie trembled, too, but she tried hard to control herself. "Are you hurt?"
Still no answer. Oh, God, what if there hadn't really been any danger? What if someone, maybe just a kid, had been playing a joke and she'd killed them? She should never have come in here.
She could not move. She was too frightened, too horrified at actually firing her gun at anything except a paper target. She sat motionless, the gun frozen in her hand as the seconds ticked by, trying to decide what to do. Then-
"Police!"
Her throat tightened, strangling a shriek. An urge to run madly from the pavilion took hold of her, but immediately she quelled it. She wasn't a criminal. She hadn't done anything wrong.
Except maybe kill someone.
"Drop your weapon! We're coming in!"
Natalie placed her gun on the table, pushed it an arm's length away, and sat rigidly in her chair as the front door opened. A man walked in, gun drawn. He shone his large flashlight around the room, then directly into her face. She squinted but didn't dare raise a hand to shield her eyes. "I put down my gun and I'm holding onto the dog," she called. "Please don't 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 don't have caller I.D. After she hung up I tried star-six-nine but was told that number was not receiving calls."
"Whoever called you has call block."
"Probably. Anyway, tonight she talked about wanting me to be with her even if she had to kill me to do it. It was dark. I couldn't really see, but I could hear someone coming toward me. I was frightened, so I fired the gun."
"You could have killed someone!"
"I didn't aim directly at the voice. I wasn't trying to kill anyone. Someone was threatening to kill me. I was only trying to scare them away, and I guess I did."
"I was driving by when the guy who owns the convenience store flagged me down and said he'd heard gunfire. As I pulled up, I saw something coming from around the back. It was gone by the time I got out of the car." He gave her a hard look. "You were incredibly careless entering a place like the pavilion the night after a murder. And you were equally reckless with your gun."
"I know," Natalie said humbly. "I won't do it again."
"You sound like you're apologizing for a traffic violation."
"Well, how am I supposed to sound?" Natalie flared. "Do you want me to fly into hysterics? Beg? Throw my gun into Lake Erie?"
"Hysterics and begging would be okay, but there's no sense in wasting a perfectly good gun," he said equably.
He's softening, Natalie thought in relief. "Are you going to arrest me?" she asked again.
He thought for a few moments. "No. A night in jail might do you some good, take some of that recklessness out of you, but I'm going to do something foolish. I'm just going to drive you home."
Relief rushed through her. "Are you going to take the gun?"
His eyes narrowed slightly and she almost squirmed under his gaze. "I'll probably regret this, but I'll let you keep it if you promise to act more responsibly in the future. I want you to unload it, put it away, and don't carry it around with you."
"I will and I won't." He looked at her. "I will unload it and put it away and I won't carry it around. Thank you."
"Don't thank me," he said, turning on the ignition. "If you were lured into the building, I have a bad feeling you might need that gun in the future."
"You know I'm gonna get killed, don't you? It's almost one thirty. In the morning.'
"So?"
"So my dad's the sheriff, for Pete's sake. If he finds out I'm sneaking around at night with a boy…"
Jimmy Jenkins turned indignantly. "So what? I'm not your boyfriend. You're only eleven, Paige."