Читать книгу Scene Of The Crime: The Deputy's Proof - Carla Cassidy - Страница 8
ОглавлениеSavannah awoke with the unaccustomed emotion of anger tightening her chest. It had been so long since she hadn’t awakened with the familiar grief that it took her a moment to recognize the new feeling that pressed so tight inside her.
Then she remembered the night before and Deputy Josh Griffin and knew immediately he was the source of her unusual anger. He was going to be here at noon and insist he go down into the tunnel with her, and when he did, he’d ruin everything.
He’d see that it wasn’t just a single tunnel but rather a network of tunnels. Word would get out, people would start to explore and her nights of ghost walking would be over forever. She’d never hear Shelly’s name again except in the deepest recesses of her broken heart.
She rolled over in bed and stared at the opposite side of the bedroom. The wall was covered with pictures of Shelly and Savannah, hugging each other when they were ten and eleven, Shelly dressed for prom at sixteen with Savannah posing with her, moments captured in time of the closeness of the two.
A desk held items that had been special to Shelly—the dried flower corsage that Bo McBride had given to her on prom night, a framed picture of the Manhattan skyline at twilight, a ceramic frog and a variety of other knickknacks.
Savannah had unpacked the items from the shed after Mac had moved out, comforted by the little pieces of Shelly that now remained in the room the two had shared for so many years of their lives.
She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Just after ten. Normally she’d sleep until at least noon or one due to her overnight work hours at the Pirate’s Inn. She’d be sucking wind tonight if she didn’t get a nap in sometime during the afternoon or early evening.
Minutes later, as she stood beneath the shower spray, her thoughts turned to Josh Griffin. Before Shelly’s death, she’d thought him one of the most handsome, hot single men in town.
He’d only grown more handsome in the past two years. As he’d sat at the table the night before, she couldn’t help but notice on some level how his dark hair enhanced the crystal blue of his eyes.
It had been impossible not to notice how his broad shoulders had filled out his khaki deputy shirt and that he’d smelled of spicy cologne that had stirred her senses on some primal level.
She didn’t want to like Josh Griffin. As far as she was concerned, he was just part of the law enforcement in town that had botched her sister’s murder case. And now he was going to ruin the only thing that made her feel just a little bit alive.
She dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a light blue T-shirt and then made a pot of coffee. The silence of the house was comfortable to her. When she and Mac had shared the house, there had always been shouting and cursing. Now the silence was like an old familiar friend.
Mac had been one of the loudest voices proclaiming the guilt of Bo McBride in Shelly’s murder. But he’d always thought Bo wasn’t good enough for her. Sometimes Savannah wondered about her brother...but she never allowed the perverse thought to take hold.
She sat at the table to drink her coffee and stared out the window that gave her not only a view of her own backyard but also a partial view of her neighbor’s.
Jeffrey Allen was out there now, weeding a flower bed, his bald head covered against the July sun by a large straw hat. Jeffrey wasn’t a pleasant man. In his midfifties, he worked as a mechanic at the local car repair shop and for the past five years or so had had a contentious relationship with the Sinclair family.
She only hoped he finished his lawn work before Josh arrived to check out the tunnel. The last thing she wanted to do was give Jeffrey any ammunition to work with to get her out of this house.
He’d made it clear that he wanted to buy her house for some of his family members to move into, but Savannah had no plans ever to sell.
By eleven forty-five, Jeffrey had disappeared from his yard and gone back into his house, and a nervous energy flooded through Savannah’s veins. Within a few minutes, Josh would arrive and destroy the one thing that had kept Shelly relevant beyond her death.
Savannah was still seated at the kitchen table when Josh appeared at the back door. She wanted to pretend he wasn’t there, ignore the soft knock he delivered, but she knew he wasn’t going to just go away, especially since he could see her through the window.
Reluctantly she got up to let him inside. Josh worked the night shift, like Savannah, and so instead of his uniform, he was clad in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt.
With his slightly unruly black hair and his usual sexy grin curving sensual lips, he looked like the proverbial irresistible bad boy. He was a bad boy. He was about to rock her world in a very adverse way.
“Good afternoon,” he said when she opened the door.
“Not particularly,” she replied, embracing the alien emotion of the anger she’d awakened with. It felt so fresh, so different from the pervasive grief that had possessed her for so long. “It would be a good day if you’d kept your nose out of my business.”
He frowned, the expression doing nothing to distract from his handsome, chiseled features. “Savannah, I’m not the enemy here.”
Yes, he was. He just didn’t realize it yet. Right now he was the beginning of the end of her world. With even Shelly’s ghost gone, Savannah didn’t know who she was or where she belonged.
“Let’s just get this over with,” she replied. She noticed that he carried a high-beam flashlight, and she walked to the cabinet under the kitchen sink and grabbed a flashlight for herself.
As she followed Josh out the back door, she hoped his shoulders got stuck in the hole, then realized he would probably somehow manage to get out anyway and bring in that backhoe he’d talked about the night before.
She just had to come to terms with the fact that he was about to discover not just her secret, but a secret that had been hidden from the entire town for who knew how long.
As they reached the bush, she stepped in front of him and caught a scent of the sexy cologne she’d noticed the night before. It only aggravated her more. “I’ll go first,” she said and bent down to shove aside the branches to reveal the hole.
She used the narrow earthen steps to go down. “Okay, your turn,” she said and moved away so that he could drop in.
He didn’t use the steps but landed gracefully on the ground. Apparently a three-foot drop wasn’t a big deal for a tall man with long legs.
He clicked on his flashlight and shone it straight ahead. “Wow, who would have thought?” he exclaimed in shock.
From this vantage point, the other passageway entrances weren’t visible. “See, it’s safe as can be,” she said. “The earth is hard-packed and solid.”
He shone his light beyond her. “I want you to take me to where you come up to do your nightly walks by the swamp.”
This was what she’d been hoping to avoid, but she knew there was no way to stop him. “Follow me,” she said in resignation. It would take only about three minutes for him to know that “her” tunnel wasn’t the only one down here.
“Did it ever occur to you that the person who murdered Shelly might have used this tunnel to escape the scene of the crime?” he asked after only a step or two.
“You mean the murderer you all never caught?” The anger was back. She stopped and turned to face him, her light shining in his eyes.
He winced. “You don’t believe that Bo McBride was responsible?”
“No, even though nearly everyone else in town, including all of you lawmen, believed him guilty. I never believed in my heart that he’d hurt Shelly. He loved her more than he loved himself.”
“Did you know he’s back in town to stay?” Josh asked. “And turn that light away,” he added with an edge of irritation.
She lowered the beam to the center of his chest. “He’s been back for over a month. I know he’s living with Claire Silver because the creepy stalker that was after her burned Bo’s family house down. I also know he and Claire are trying to find the truth about who murdered Shelly. When he chased me that night, I already suspected he was back in Lost Lagoon to stay.”
“Look, I’m not down in this dungeon to reinvestigate your sister’s murder. I’m sorry how things turned out and that nobody was ever arrested, but that’s not why we’re down here.”
“You were the one who brought it up,” she replied.
Suddenly she just wanted to get this over with, get back into her silent house where she lived with just memories of the family who had once filled the quiet with life.
She turned around and continued walking, and when she came to the first passageway that shot off the main tunnel, she heard Josh gasp in surprise.
“I thought you said this was just one tunnel, from your backyard directly to the edge of the swamp.” He shone his light down the new tunnel.
Once again she turned to face him. “I lied. There are tons of tunnels down here. I think they run under the entire town, and now that you know that, everything is going to be ruined for me. You’ll feel obligated to tell somebody, and word will get out, and there will be tons of people down here exploring everywhere.”
To her horror, she burst into tears...the first tears she had shed since the day they had buried her sister.
* * *
JOSH WASN’T SURE what shocked him more, the discovery of the other tunnels or Savannah’s unexpected tears. No, they weren’t just simple tears. She leaned against the earthen wall and sobbed as if her heart was breaking.
“Savannah,” he said softly, and he touched her arm. She jerked away and cried harder. “Savannah, please don’t cry.” Not knowing what to do, unaccustomed to sobbing females, he tucked his flashlight into the back of the waist of his pants and pulled her into his arms.
She stiffened against him and then melted into him, crying into the hollow of his throat. Although she was tall, she felt small and fragile in his arms. Her hair smelled of wildflowers, and she fit neatly against him.
It lasted only a couple of heartbeats, and then she twirled out of his embrace and swiped at her tears as if angry at herself for the display of emotion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
She faced him, the eerie illumination of their flashlights casting dancing shadows on her features. “You just have no idea what you’re taking away from me.”
“Why don’t we continue on, and we can talk about it all when we’re above ground again,” he suggested and pulled his flashlight out of his waistband.
She nodded and turned to lead the way once again. Josh tried to keep pace with her, but he slowed each time he passed yet another tunnel that branched off the one they followed. And there were plenty of branches.
Throughout the walk, he could tell they were descending, although it was impossible to tell just how deep they were beneath the ground.
He counted at least seven branches of darkened tunnels by the time they reached the end of the main one. Plank steps led upward. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other as they’d travelled forward.
He’d been too amazed by the subterranean world he’d been introduced to by Savannah. Where did the other tunnels lead? How big was the network? Who knew about it besides Savannah?
He was fairly sure the answer to the question was that nobody except Savannah and now him knew about the underground network. Otherwise he would have heard about it before now. Lost Lagoon was a small town, and a secret this big would have been revealed.
He followed her up the plank steps that led them next to a large cypress tree surrounded by thick brush. The ground was spongy beneath his feet, although not wet enough to cover his shoes. There was nobody in the area, and he was glad that nobody was around to see them ascend from the ground.
Directly in front of them was the swath of land where Shelly’s “ghost” walked. He looked at Savannah, whose features were void of emotion. “So, you walk across here and then what? How do you get back to this same entrance to get back home?”
“I don’t. On the other side of the path is a hidden cave that leads back to the tunnel we were just in.” She didn’t wait for his response but quickly walked across the path that was her “stage” on nights she performed her ghost routine.
Josh hurried after her, his mind still reeling from where he’d been and what he’d seen. When they reached the other side, he followed her up a small hill through thick woods.
She stopped and pulled a tangle of vines and brush aside to reveal the mouth of a cave. Once again a sense of shock swept through him.
He’d been a deputy in Lost Lagoon for the past ten years. He’d moved to the small town from Georgia when he was twenty-one to take the position of deputy. Ten years and he hadn’t heard a whisper of the presence of the underground network.
He followed her into the mouth of the cave and found himself again in a tunnel that merged into the one they’d used from Savannah’s backyard.
They were silent as they returned the way they had come. The initial excitement and surprise of what he’d seen had passed. Instead he was acutely attuned to the air of defeat that emanated from Savannah while she walked slowly in front of him.
He dreaded the conversation to come. There was no way he could keep this information to himself. Who knew what might be found in the other tunnels? Who knew where they led? It was a historical find that should be made public to the appropriate authorities.
What surprised him was that Savannah had possessed the nerve to go down there and explore on her own. It must have been frightening the first time she’d decided to drop down that hole and follow the tunnel.
When they came back up in her backyard, the July sun and humidity were relentless. He hadn’t realized how much cooler the tunnels had been until now.
“Come on inside and I’ll get us something cold to drink,” she said without enthusiasm.
It wasn’t the best invitation he’d ever gotten from a woman, but he was hot and thirsty, and they weren’t finished with their business yet.
Once inside, he sat in the same chair at the table where he’d sat the night before. She went to the cabinet and pulled down two glasses.
She turned to look at him, her eyes dull and lifeless. “Sweet tea okay?”
“Anything cold is fine,” he replied.
She opened the refrigerator and poured the tea. She then carried the glasses to the table and sat across from him. Her eyes were now dark pools of aching sadness, so aching that he couldn’t stand to look at them.
He took a sip of the cold tea and then stared down into the glass. “You know I can’t keep this a secret,” he finally said.
“I know you can’t keep it a secret forever,” she replied.
He gazed at her, and this time in her eyes he saw a tiny spark of life, of hope. He steeled himself for the argument he had a feeling was about to happen.
God, it just took that single spark in her eyes for him to remember the woman she’d been, and he couldn’t help the swift curl of heat that warmed his belly. It was a heat of the visceral attraction he’d forgotten had once existed where she was concerned.
“Give me one more night,” she said. “Just let me have one more walk before you tell anyone about the tunnels.” She leaned forward, her eyes now positively glowing with focus. “One final walk, Josh. At least let me have that before it all blows up.”
“Savannah...”
“Those tunnels have been a secret for who knows how long,” she said, interrupting him. “Can’t you just keep them a secret for another week or so?”
He told himself it was too big, that he should report on what he’d found out immediately. He sat up straighter in his chair, determined to do the right thing, and then she surprised him. She reached across the table and covered one of his hands with hers.
“Please, Josh, all I’m asking for is a week. I can do a final ghost walk next Friday night, and then you can tell whoever you want about the tunnels.”
Her hand was warm, almost fevered over his, and for just a moment, as he stared into the dark pools of her eyes, he forgot what they’d been talking about.
He mentally shook himself and pulled his hand from beneath hers. Duty battled with the desire to do something for her, something to make up for letting her down two years before when he should have chosen real justice over his job.
He took another drink of tea and then stood. He needed to think, and at the moment he was finding it difficult to think rationally.
“I assume you’re working your usual shift tonight at the inn?” He moved toward the back door. He needed to get away from her winsome eyes, the floral scent of her that filled his head.
“Eleven to seven,” she replied. “Why?”
“I need to think about everything. I won’t say anything to anyone today, and I’ll stop by the Pirate’s Inn tonight sometime during my shift and let you know what I’ve decided to do.”
She opened her mouth as if to make one more plea, but closed it and nodded. “Then I guess I’ll see you sometime tonight.”
He left her house and walked around to his car. No patrol car today, just a nice red convertible sports car that most women would definitely consider a boy toy.
He’d bought the car a year ago, and the day he signed the ownership papers, his head had been filled with the memory of his twin brother, Jacob.
When the two boys had been growing up, they’d dreamed of owning a car like this...flashy and fast and nothing like the old family car their parents had driven. That old car had been held together by string and hope because new cars cost money the Griffin family didn’t have.
Driving to his house, he once again thought about the surprising discovery of the tunnels. The presence of them had been such a shock. Had they been made by pirates who were rumored to have used the Lost Lagoon town as a base camp? Would there be treasures and artifacts in one of those passageways that would identify who had made them and why?
It was much easier to think about the tunnels than about the woman he’d just left. But thoughts of Savannah intruded. Of the two sisters, he’d always thought she was the prettiest. She was softer, a little bit shyer than Shelly, but she’d drawn Josh to her.
She’d had a smile that lit up her face and made it impossible not to smile back at her. He wondered if she had smiled at all in the last two years.
He pulled into the driveway of his three-bedroom ranch house. He’d bought the house when it was just a shell and had added amenities like an extra-long whirlpool tub for a tall man to relax in and a walkout door from the bedroom to a private patio. He’d also put in all the bells and whistles in the kitchen area. He’d been told by the builder that it would be good for resale value.
The cost of living in Lost Lagoon was relatively low, and his salary was good, as few lawmen would choose to spend their careers in a small swamp town.
When he got inside, he sat at his kitchen table with a bottle of cold beer, and once again his head filled with visions of Savannah.
One week. That was all she’d asked for. Just seven days. But was it even right for him to indulge her in one more ghost walk? Wasn’t it better just to end it all now and hope that she got some sort of help for the grief that had obviously held her in its grip for far too long?
And what if Sheriff Trey Walker found out that he’d known about the tunnels and hadn’t come forward immediately? Trey was a tough guy who demanded 100 percent loyalty from his men. Would Josh be putting his job on the line to give Savannah what she’d asked for?
He took a long sip of his beer and reviewed his options—none of which he liked.
