Becki Willis - Keep Your Doors Locked

KEEP YOUR DOORS LOCKED

A CAPTIVATING PSYCHOLOGICAL DOMESTIC THRILLER YOU CANT PUT DOWN

By Becki Willis

Copyright 2023 by Becki Willis

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. All places, people and events are created from the authors imagination. In the event a real-life venue, location, or organization is mentioned, it is with the utmost sense of respect and stems from the authors attempt at authenticity. Interaction with such a place or person is completely fictional and should not be construed as endorsement or fact.

Special thanks goes to my inside expert for proper usage of terminology and procedures. You know who you are.

Cover design by Anelia Savova

Editing by SJS Editorial Services

Chapter 1

Sara

B reaking news from the Channel Five News Center. This just in, an inmate has escaped from the Roscoe Unit of the Texas Department of Criminal Justice prison system. Details are still forthcoming, but it is believed Thomas Ramon Bernard, 47, sneaked aboard a delivery van to exit the facility. Once beyond the gates, Bernard overcame the driver and hijacked the van, abandoning it some forty miles away. He was last seen on foot near the rural community of Maypole in Apple County.

Residents in the area are instructed to stay in their homes with their doors locked and to alert authorities if they see anyone or anything suspicious. Bernard is described as a five-foot, seven-inch male with a slender build and dark hair, wearing prison-issued white pants and shirt. Do not approach him. Presume he is armed and dangerous. Again, do not approach. Bernard is currently serving life in prison on multiple convictions, including capital murder, attempting to carry out a plot to commit murder, and kidnapping. Stay tuned to this channel for further details as they become available.

Pausing as she diced vegetables for her dinner, Sara Jennings watched the broadcast with a frown. She remembered hearing of a similar breakout in one of the Midwestern states about a month ago. Didnt they use locks in prison anymore? How were these people breaking out so easily?

She scooped up a handful of chopped carrots and potatoes and eased them into the bubbling broth. There was nothing like a pot of beef stew on the first chilly evening of the season. Fifty-eight wasnt cold enough to break out her winter jacket but considering that last night had been twenty degrees warmer, it almost felt like it. She would settle, instead, for a small pot of stew and a pan of cornbread. There would be enough leftovers to have for days, something she would appreciate while she worked overtime on her big project.

Sara had planned to eat outside by the fire pit, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the orange hues of the sunset while wrapped in a lightweight blanket, but in light of the special bulletin on the news, perhaps she should eat indoors. Technically, her address was Maypole, even though the town itself was several miles to the east.

With a sigh, Sara reached into her spice cabinet and started pulling out containers. She added a few shakes of this, a dash of that, and a healthy portion of black pepper. She blew on a spoonful of the hot broth before sampling.

Needs something, she decided aloud.

She opened the refrigerator to forage inside its depths. She was always amazed that the vintage appliance still worked. It had come with the house when she bought it. Sara tolerated the white monstrosity, thinking it couldnt possibly last much longer, but a year later, it was still running strong.

And loud. Sara gave the appliance a gentle shove, knowing the floor was just uneven enough to cause an irritating vibration. The foundation of the house was solidshe had it checked before purchasing her first home, of coursebut the wood floor sagged a bit beneath the hunk of steel. She had once attempted moving the appliance to clean behind it but quickly decided a little dust wouldnt cause permanent harm. Breaking her back might.

Satisfied when she found leftover brussel sprouts and a stray stalk of celery, Sara prepped the celery and dropped both vegetables into the stew. That was one of the good things about stew, she thought with a smile. It helped clean out the fridge.

Another dash of salt, and all it needed was time to simmer.

Reducing the heat on the stove, Sara gathered ingredients for her cornbread. She was always a sucker for comfort food, and with this project for work looming large in her mind, she needed all the comfort she could get.

At thirty-four, Sara was self-employed by her own software development company. She normally preferred small jobs, creating very specific programs for mom-and-pop businesses and small offices, but this upcoming project was more ambitious. She was designing a multi-faceted program for a large companys flagship store in Dallas. If the software worked as planned, they would implement the same system in six other locations. The project could make or break SJ Innovations.

Saras mind wandered as she stirred baking powder, salt, and a small portion of sugar into the cornmeal and flour mixture. Imagining how the software would perform, she turned the oven on to preheat before returning to the refrigerator for milk, butter, and an egg. As she absently slathered the baking dish with melted butterthe same way her program would grease the cogs of datashe heard a knock on the door.

She glanced nervously toward the television. The channel had returned to its normal schedule and was currently taunting game show contestants to press their luck. Sara wasnt big on game shows, but it was one of the few such programs that held her interest. She often watched re-runs while preparing dinner. And even though the screen now showed a half-dozen briefcases beneath the mega-watt smiles of beautiful women in sequined gowns, her minds eye still saw footage of an abandoned van in a wooded area.

It looked much like the view outside her kitchen window.

Stop it, Sara, she told herself sternly. Maypole is nearly ten miles away. Youve got nothing to worry about.

Despite the warning to herself, Sara made certain the back door was latched before padding into the living room. A woman living alone could never be too careful, even in this sleepy little rural community.

Hello! a mans voice called from the other side of the door. Is anyone home?

Sara was hesitant to answer. What if the prisoner had somehow made it this far and stood on her front porch? It was foolhardy to open the door to a stranger, especially with an escaped convict on the loose.

Is anyone there? This is Special Detective Mason Burleson with the Joint East Texas Fugitive Task Force, the man said. His voice had a deep rumble that inspired trust, but Sara wouldnt stake her life on something as fickle as a tone.

Were going door to door, doing welfare checks, the man with the pleasant voice continued. I see a car in the driveway. Is anyone home?

Sara had lived alone in the city long enough to know that single women were vulnerable. For that reason, she had developed a piece of software known as SJs Big Dog. With the flick of a button, she could activate the sound of two large dogs inside the home. It sounded as if they came running from a distant room, barking ferociously as they approached the potential intruder. She kept several devices around the house, just for this purpose. Next to most of them was a pistol.

Hold on! she called above the sounds of her protective guard dogs. Angling her voice away from the door, she said, Hush, Bruno. Down, Hondo. Heel. With the door still closed, she asked the man on the other side, May I help you?

Just making certain youre okay, maam. Can you open the door just enough that I can show you my badge?