Читать книгу Dark Harbor - Christy Barritt - Страница 11

THREE

Madelyn froze as she waited for the man’s next threat, his next demand. Waited for the pain she was about to experience.

“You shouldn’t have ever come here.” His voice sounded gruff, commanding.

His gloved hand pressed hard into her mouth. Hard enough that her teeth ached, that they cut into her gums and lips. His arm locked her in place. The man was strong, and his hold was like a clamp.

Madelyn’s gaze darted around. There was no one around to help her. To see the act happening. To report to the police that she was missing.

Her heart ached at the thought. There’d be no one to mourn her. She was alone in this world, and never had she remembered that fact like she did now.

“Go back to Maryland,” the man continued. “Understand?”

She didn’t dare speak.

“Understand?” He squeezed her until she yelped.

She nodded, desperate for her life.

She wanted to fight, but she was frozen. Did he have a knife? A gun? Would he kill her?

Instead, his hand slipped. In one slick movement, he shoved her to the ground. Quickly, he reached down and grabbed the oysters. Then he fled.

She looked over her shoulder in time to spot a figure dressed in black. She couldn’t tell anything else about him. He was too much of a blur, a shadow, as he bolted away.

She sank to the ground, her knees going weak. Her insides were a quivering mess. Her whole life had flashed before her eyes, and she’d feared the worst. She’d feared she would join her parents.

Only—would she? They’d believed in God and in Heaven. Madelyn certainly didn’t believe in God anymore, and she wasn’t sure what she thought about Heaven or life after death.

She only knew there was a massive hole in her heart after her parents—her only family, since she had no siblings—had been stripped from her.

All she’d lived for since their death was her career. It seemed like the only sure thing about her future—at least it was her best hope. She couldn’t let some bully pressure her into giving up her dreams and goals.

She sucked in a deep breath, trying to compose herself and not fall apart.

With another shudder of fear, she hurried back to her suitcase, picked it up and went to the house. Her hands trembled as she tried to put the key in the lock.

She just wanted to be somewhere safe.

Did someone know who she was? Know why she was really here? What else might he do to ensure she actually did go home?

The only person who may feel threatened by Madelyn was Zach. She shook her head. He shouldn’t have any clue who she really was. Paula was the only one who knew her true motives for coming here.

That’s when Madelyn realized the truth: she needed to report a crime.

It looked like she and Zach Davis were going to have to talk again. Maybe this was a good thing. After all, what better way to track down the truth than by getting to know him more?

* * *

Zach leaned back in the ratty old desk chair and thought about what had happened earlier. All of it seemed out of the realm of the ordinary for the quiet town.

If Madelyn was telling the truth—and he had no reason to suspect she wasn’t—she’d been followed into town. Then someone had shot at Zach. What an utterly strange greeting for the town’s visitor.

The town’s very intriguing visitor. Yet, her gaze had been shifty and her actions showed anxiety. Was she hiding something? Or was she simply shaken up after everything that had happened?

He surveyed his small, quiet office. He had a secretary/receptionist/dispatcher and one officer here in the fishing community. He could use more help, but the mayor had yet to approve the budget increase.

Zach had only been in Waterman’s Reach for three months—barely enough time to learn the ropes and fully comprehend how the small department here operated. So far, he knew the town was sleepy.

He’d been inching closer and closer to this exact location and this exact job. As soon as he heard about the position opening up, he jumped on the opportunity to come here.

He’d done his homework. He knew that Waterman’s Reach was the most likely spot where he’d find answers about the crime that haunted him. Gone was the big-city excitement of being a detective. His work in Baltimore had never been done—he didn’t have enough hours in his day to give the attention needed to each one of his cases. Here, he experienced a slower pace of life.

He actually kind of liked the change. What he didn’t like was the lives that had been affected by what had happened in Baltimore before he left. The families that had been hurt. The futures that had been destroyed.

He crushed the paper cup in his hand and tossed it into the trash can. With any luck, he would find some answers here and be able to move on with his life eventually. The only caveat was that he had to ensure that no one could figure out who he really was in the meantime. If they did, his whole investigation—years of work—would be ruined.

He felt the air in the building change as the front door opened, and he waited for Lynn to greet the visitor. When he didn’t hear anything, he stood and stretched his taut muscles before stepping out of his office. Now where had Lynn gone? Her desk was empty.

“Can I help—?” He stopped abruptly when he saw the familiar figure. “Madelyn. What brings you by here? I called the tow truck, but I’d give Fisher’s a little bit longer—”

“It’s not about my car. It’s about the man who just attacked me.”

He bristled. Attacked? On the surface, violence didn’t seem to exist in Waterman’s Reach.

Until Madelyn Sawyer showed up.

“Attacked you?” he repeated.

She nodded, lowering her gaze for a minute. Her hand went to the counter as if she needed to steady herself. Just then he noticed her bloody knee and the rip in her skirt.

“Do you need to sit down?” he asked. “Go to the hospital?”

She offered what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

His curiosity continued to grow. “Could you tell me what happened?”

“A man came up behind me, put his hand over my mouth and demanded that I leave town. Then he stole my...” She frowned. “Oysters.”

His concern temporarily disappeared as she finished her sentence. Certainly he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Oysters?”

Her frown deepened. “I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned that part.”

“Why don’t you come into my office and I’ll take your statement?”

“I’d appreciate that.” She took a few steps toward Zach as he extended his hand toward the open door in the distance.

Just as she reached him, her knees gave out. Zach grabbed her elbow to steady her. As he did, electricity shot through him.

He quickly pulled himself together and tried to forget the scent of lilac perfume that had wafted up toward him. She held her head up higher, surprisingly tense. She was probably shaken after what just happened. No one could blame her for that.

He pulled out a padded seat across from his desk.

“Please.” He waited until she was seated before walking to the other side and lowering himself into the beat-up swivel chair he’d inherited from the previous chief. Levi Watson had cared more about giving himself bonuses than he had for building upgrades or equipment updates. “Now, please tell me exactly what happened.”

She ran through her story.

“He actually reached down and took the oysters before he left?” He had to ask the question because that aspect of the crime seemed so obscure.

Madelyn scowled, as if she didn’t appreciate him following up. “That’s correct.”

As he shifted in his seat, the chair squealed beneath him. “Did you get a look at him?”

“I only saw that he was wearing black.”

All black? Could it be the same person who’d shot at him in the woods? His instincts said yes.

Something in her gaze caused his guard to rise. Was she hiding something? But what? If that was the case, certainly she could have come up with a better cover story than stolen oysters.

“I never asked you earlier: how long will you be in town?” Zach asked.

“At least a week.”

He contemplated her answer a moment before nodding. Her explanation seemed reasonable enough. “I’ll see what I can find out. I have to admit, what you’ve told me isn’t much to go on, but I will check with some of the shop owners with businesses near the duplex and find out if they saw anything suspicious.”

“I don’t really want to draw any attention to myself.” She shrugged, as if her words might have sounded strange. “It’s only smart as a single woman.”

“I’ll use caution.”

She nodded as she stood, clutching her purse. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”

“I’ll be in touch, Ms. Sawyer.” As he watched her retreat, something felt unsettled in his gut.

There was something she wasn’t telling him. Now he just had to figure out what and why.

Zach followed her out into the reception area. Lynn had returned, a steaming microwave meal in front of her and an apologetic smile on her face. He nodded at her as he stepped outside the small office building located on the edge of the town’s retail area.

He let his gaze wander down the sidewalk. He expected to see Madelyn. Instead, his attention was drawn to his police cruiser. The tires were all flat.

He bent down to examine them and saw slashes in the thick rubber. Someone had done that on purpose. But what kind of message were they trying to send? That he wasn’t welcome here?

Some didn’t approve of an outsider being chief. Since he’d arrived in town, his mailbox had been knocked over. Some potted plants on his deck had been smashed. A dead fish had been left outside his window at the police station. Now this.

Did that mean that someone knew about his past? The thought made him bristle.

If someone knew who he was, that could sabotage his whole investigation—which was his entire reason for being here.

He couldn’t let that happen.

* * *

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Madelyn mumbled into the phone.

She paced the kitchen floor while dark windows stared at her in the distance. As unexplainable nerves got the best of her, she pulled her sweatshirt closer around her, wishing for a moment she was back in her safe little apartment in Maryland. At least she had a few neighbors there who would notice if something was wrong or that she could run to if she had any trouble. Here, she felt alone and out of place. She kept reliving her earlier encounter outside the house.

“Madelyn, of course you can do this,” her editor, Paula, said. “This will be your big story, the one that propels you to the top. You can’t back out now.”

“But I talked to Zach. He didn’t seem evil or murderous or like a bad cop even.” He’d been quite handsome, truth be told. And kind. He didn’t look cold-blooded, not even when he’d pushed Madelyn for more answers than she’d wanted to give.

“You could tell what was going on deep inside of the man after talking to him twice? People often hide who they really are, Madelyn. You can’t take everyone at face value, and if you’re going to make it as a journalist, you’re going to have to finely tune your reporting instincts. No more thinking with your heart. None of this misplaced compassion. You’re good at getting people to trust you. Get Zach to trust you also.”

Madelyn frowned and leaned against the wall a moment, staring at the dark beach beyond her window. She couldn’t make anything out except an occasional whitecap hitting the sand.

Seeing the bay made her feel small and reminded her what a big world it was out there. Since her parents had died, she’d felt all alone without any kind of support system to fall back on.

Her mom and dad had gone out to dinner one night and neither had come home. They’d been in a car wreck. A police officer had been in pursuit of a suspect after a bank robbery. He’d gone through an intersection and rammed into her parents’ car, killing them on impact.

The officer hadn’t lost his job, and his apology hadn’t meant anything considering the loss Madelyn had faced.

She had been only eighteen at the time. Her childhood had ended on that day, never to be regained.

A few months later she’d gone off to college and tried to forge a new life for herself. Paula had been a graduate assistant for one of her professors and had seen promise in one of Madelyn’s essays. She’d given her guidance when Madelyn had no one else.

After college, Paula began working at East Coast International Magazine. Five years later she became editor. Paula had hired Madelyn last year after she’d gained some experience by working for a few small-town newspapers in the years after college.

Paula was everything Madelyn wanted to be. She was smart, successful and respected. But their personalities were quite different. Like night and day for that matter. Paula was brash, bold and said what was on her mind. Madelyn, on the other hand, was softer, kinder and more contemplative.

She snapped back to the conversation. Get Zach to trust you, Paula had said.

This was going to require a certain level of deceit on Madelyn’s part. She’d thought about this a lot before she’d come. Could she really handle the task? Earlier, she thought she could. But now she was beginning to doubt herself and her reasons for being here.

“You’re sure Zach is guilty?”

“Madelyn, it’s his fault that two police officers died, not to mention that poor boy.”

“That poor boy was a drug dealer,” Madelyn reminded her. “Not that he should have been shot. But he was about to shoot Zach.”

“Rumor has it that Zach Davis was involved in the drug ring, and that’s why those two officers were killed. It was no mistake. People think that Zach didn’t want to be caught and that something went down during the bust that might indicate his guilt and involvement in the whole thing.”

“That’s going to be difficult to prove.” Why had Paula sent her here to do this job? She claimed it was because she was editor now and that she was trying to give Madelyn the break she wanted. But Paula was the type who liked to do things herself. The question had wafted through Madelyn’s mind more than once.

“Zach can be quite charming. That’s what I heard at least. Don’t fall under his spell.”

Madelyn straightened. “Wait—did you know him?” Was there more to Paula’s determination to see this article through than she’d originally let on?

“No, of course not. I just know people who know him. He’s a horrible person masquerading as someone who’s noble. He needs justice, Madelyn, and you’re the one who’s going to give it to him. Can I count on you?”

Madelyn wished she felt so certain. That pesky compassion always crept in at the worst times and sometimes made her wonder if she was suited for this career. She wasn’t cutthroat, and nothing she did would ever convince her she would be. But according to Paula, there was no prestige in simply writing travel articles. To be taken seriously in this career, one had to stick her neck out. She had to take risks, to write articles that impacted the world. How could Madelyn argue with that?

After a moment of silent contemplation by Madelyn, Paula spoke. “Madelyn, remember what that cop did to your parents. Did he get justice? No. People need consequences. That’s one of the problems with the world today. Everyone’s babied, so they think they can get away with wronging other people. It’s not right. People need to take responsibility for their actions. That cop who killed your parents needs to take responsibility. Zach Davis needs to own up to what he did and face the consequences. Do you understand?”

Paula’s pep talk—if that’s what it could be called—kicked Madelyn into gear. Her friend was right. This was no time to be a chicken. This was her time to shine. “Okay. I’m on it.”

“Just think about what this can do for you. This would put you in the big league. Just like Wilcox Industries did for me.”

Paula had broken the story about a board member with Wilcox Industries who was embezzling money from the power company and therefore had been embezzling from investors. After her article went viral, Paula had been nominated for awards for her fearless reporting. It was one of the reasons she’d made editor in chief of a popular magazine at only thirty-six years old. The fact that she’d seen something in Madelyn meant the world to her. Madelyn might not ever get another chance like this again. She had to seize the opportunity while she could.

Madelyn felt more determined now than ever.

“You sent the right person, Paula. I’m going to write the story of my life. My feelings won’t get in the way of doing what’s right and what’s necessary.”

“That’s my girl. Now, go knock this exposé out of the park.”

Madelyn hit End on her cell phone. She had to push through her doubts and do what needed to be done. But what a start to her stay here.

She didn’t even like being center of attention. That’s why she liked reporting so much—it allowed her to be in the background, yet to make a difference. Paula, on the other hand, should have gone into broadcast journalism. She loved to be in the spotlight.

Madelyn set her phone on the kitchen counter, staring at her temporary home. It was really a lovely, contemporary space. The kitchen had stainless steel appliances. The furniture all looked exotic, like it had been imported with its heavy wood frames and intricate designs. The walls had a Caribbean vibe with their mango, lime and pineapple colors.

She took a deep breath and gathered her courage. She had to be tough and strong if she was going to stay in this town and tackle her first big assignment.

With that thought, she walked across the hardwood floor toward the living room. She opened the door, revealing a huge, second-story porch. Stunning views of the bay waited there. Despite the cool breeze that swept inside—no doubt chillier because of the wind brushing over the water—Madelyn took a step out.

When she did, she sucked in a deep breath. It was beautiful here, and the duplex allowed a top-notch view of the water.

Her parents had always talked to her about God making the heavens and the earth. About nature declaring the majesty of God. About God being the ultimate creative and Creator.

Madelyn had stopped believing in God a long time ago, though, right about the time her parents had died. No loving God would ever allow a tragedy like that, and nothing anyone ever told her would change her mind. College had only confirmed her suspicions. Intellect and reason were the route to go if she wanted to find true satisfaction in life.

Her parents had been good people. Madelyn had been a good girl, for that matter, someone who’d always tried to follow the rules. What had she gotten as a reward? Nothing but pain and hardship. That’s when she’d decided to throw herself completely into her career. If not God, what else was there to live for? She certainly didn’t want to put her faith in romance or finding the right man. Paula had been through enough bad relationships to prove that point. Madelyn had dated a lot herself, but the process just seemed futile. She couldn’t really see herself spending forever with any of the men she met.

With a bitter taste now in her mouth, Madelyn scanned the shoreline. Her gaze came to a stop as something reflected the moonlight. What was that glimmer?

She tensed as she looked more closely. She wasn’t sure why the glare had caught her eye, but she had to trust her gut. Something out of the ordinary stirred her instincts.

She walked to the corner of the porch, leaning in to get a better look. That’s when the gleam disappeared.

What?

She held her breath, watching for a clue. The glare had come from near the public pier that stretched into the water not far from the house.

She saw movement. Almost a shadow blowing in the wind. But that was no shadow. The movements were too purposeful.

It was a man crouching as he crept away from the pier.

And he’d been holding binoculars, she realized.

Someone was spying on her.

Her heart leaped into her throat at the realization, and fear shuddered through her.

She’d just arrived in town, but she knew one thing for sure: she was in trouble.