“My name is Rose Gardner, and I’m in my landscaping office across the street from the courthouse. There’s a man outside the front door who is trying to get in.”

“Is he threatening you, ma’am?”

“He’s shouting at me through the glass door.”

“So why don’t you let him in?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but then again, it was the Henryetta PD. “My office is closed.”

“Then if you tell him the situation, I’m sure he’ll understand and come back when you open.”

“You don’t understand,” I said in frustration. “He’s now pounding on the glass with his fist!”

The man’s face was flaming red as he beat the door. The heavy thuds echoed through the room.

“This doesn’t sound like an emergency. It sounds like an eager customer, and in today’s economy, you should be grateful,” she said with an attitude, then sighed in exhaustion. “But, if you’d like, I’ll send an officer out to see what’s going on.”

“Yes!” I practically shouted. “Please!”

“There’s no need to get snippy, ma’am,” she snapped as she hung up.

Clive wasn’t about to give up on his quest to get inside, and I weighed my options. I could lock myself in the bathroom until someone showed up to help me, or I could go out the back door. The problem with the second option was my office was on the corner, and if he saw me going out the back door, he could round the corner and track me down in the alley.

Staying put seemed like the best option at the moment. But to be safe, I found my purse and pulled out my pepper spray. Too bad I didn’t carry around my taser anymore. Or my gun.

Still, I couldn’t just wait to see if he would give up or escalate his attempts to get in. I called Randy next and got his voicemail again. Instead of leaving a message, I pulled up the number for the sheriff’s office and called Joe’s assistant, Patty.

“Patty, this is Rose Gardner,” I said in a rush when she answered.

“I’m afraid Sheriff Simmons isn’t here right now, sweetheart,” she said kindly. “He’s at the county jail.”

“I know, but I need your help.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding pleased. “I’m honored.”

“There’s a man outside my office door on the Henryetta Square, and he’s trying to get in. Joe’s not answering his phone.”

“Oh, honey,” she said, sounding concerned. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. I don’t even have a gun. You need to call 911.”

“I already did that,” I said. “But the Henryetta dispatcher said it wasn’t an emergency. Can you please send a deputy out?”

“Of course, hon,” she said. “I’ll get on that right away. You stay safe now.” Then she hung up.

“I’m trying to,” I grumbled.

The man at the door looked even more pissed.

Then I realized I was out of time as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a handgun.

Time to go out the back door.

Crouching down, I hurried toward the back of the office, then squatted by the back door as shots rang out, followed by the sound of splintering glass.

My heart was hammering in my ears as I thought through my options again. But I didn’t really have an option. I could either cower here and wait for him to come shoot me, or I could go out the back door.

I stood up and reached for the deadbolt.

Chapter Thirty-Three