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Dark Harbor
Christy Barritt


THREAT OF EXPOSURESomeone wants reporter Madelyn Sawyer to leave the small coastal town she's just arrived in—even if it takes hurting her. But she won’t give up her goal of investigating Waterman's Reach's new police chief that easily. Madelyn assumes that former big-city detective Zach Davis—who some believe is a murderer involved in a drug-trafficking ring—is behind the threat. Who else would have a motive? But as bullets fly Madelyn’s way, it’s Zach who keeps saving her life. The closer she gets to the truth, the more she wants to tell the handsome lawman why she’s really in town. But if she does, will she lose his trust…and any hope of surviving long enough to bring the real killer to light?







THREAT OF EXPOSURE

Someone wants reporter Madelyn Sawyer to leave the small coastal town she’s just arrived in—even if it takes hurting her. But she won’t give up her goal of investigating Waterman’s Reach’s new police chief that easily. Madelyn assumes that former big-city detective Zach Davis—who some believe is a murderer involved in a drug-trafficking ring—is behind the threat. Who else would have a motive? But as bullets fly Madelyn’s way, it’s Zach who keeps saving her life. The closer she gets to the truth, the more she wants to tell the handsome lawman why she’s really in town. But if she does, will she lose his trust…and any hope of surviving long enough to bring the real killer to light?


“Are you trying to hide something?” Madelyn asked.

Zach’s cheeks warmed with irritation. She was overstepping her boundaries—big-time. “You need to tread carefully, Ms. Sawyer.”

“Is that a threat?” Her hands went to her hips.

That text message had done its job, it appeared, because the woman obviously didn’t have any faith in him.

“By no means is it a threat. I just think you’re not doing yourself any favors storming into town and making accusations.”

Flames lit in her eyes just as fireworks began exploding over the water. “Well, maybe you’ll believe me now that I really was attacked last night.”

He stared back, not one to back down. “I never said I didn’t believe you.”

“You didn’t have to. I could see it in your eyes.”

He crossed his arms, growing agitated. “Someone must really not want you here.”

“Exactly!”

“But why?” Why would someone feel this threatened by her? That’s what didn’t make sense. There were obviously things about Madelyn Sawyer that he didn’t know yet. “What aren’t you telling me?”

They stared at each other another moment. Tension crackled between them.


CHRISTY BARRITT’s books have won a Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Suspense and Mystery and have been twice nominated for the RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. She’s married to her Prince Charming, a man who thinks she’s hilarious—but only when she’s not trying to be. Christy’s a self-proclaimed klutz, an avid music lover and a road trip aficionado. For more information, visit her website at christybarritt.com (http://www.christybarritt.com).


Dark Harbor

Christy Barritt






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

—Matthew 6:34


This book is dedicated to all of the fine folks

over on the Eastern Shore of Virginia.

I’ve truly enjoyed getting to know you all as I’ve been researching the area for the past several months.


Contents

COVER (#u8527316f-2bc7-5040-be36-451b0cac7ce9)

BACK COVER TEXT (#u98051643-0fa2-59e2-8765-74b2d301f52a)

INTRODUCTION (#udc05c325-1671-5816-ac47-1babaea80329)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#u22df5cc0-265e-5ef4-9cf3-79bd302e3c70)

TITLE PAGE (#u34bed5c5-e6a9-52ea-bcdc-a20184e022b8)

BIBLE VERSE (#u106fa1c8-1fe3-5bde-9155-5922c31bba1f)

DEDICATION (#ueb4c9c65-bebe-59f5-a079-8f91876e01cb)

ONE (#ulink_16bcb76a-5a18-5bf3-9ed0-36856f1425cd)

TWO (#ulink_aa85240a-e6d9-5d62-a392-2548ffdf7079)

THREE (#ulink_3e3ed00e-f612-5a1a-ad05-b7fd68d11448)

FOUR (#ulink_d3cb4cbb-3699-50c6-af4c-23868639541d)

FIVE (#ulink_a4cac8e7-708e-557e-bc82-1ecf6b99421d)

SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)

TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

EXTRACT (#litres_trial_promo)

COPYRIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)


ONE (#ulink_953a98ab-b126-51ef-8a29-c7516564fbbd)

Madelyn Sawyer glanced into her rearview mirror again and her pulse spiked. The white truck with the dent in its front bumper was still there. Still following her.

She drew in an uneven breath as she dragged her eyes back to the highway in front of her. The road ahead was fairly empty aside from a tractor trailer that had passed her a few minutes earlier and an old school bus full of migrant workers that had just pulled onto the street.

Madelyn was still ten minutes away from her end destination: the small bay town of Waterman’s Reach. Would the truck follow her all the way there?

As the sun continued to sink lower on the horizon, her thoughts raced. Was someone trying to scare her, keep tabs on her or harm her? None of the options made her feel better.

There was already enough secrecy surrounding her assignment in the small fishing community. The last thing she needed was to draw unnecessary attention to herself. Apparently, she already had.

She glanced in the mirror again. Each glimpse of the truck ratcheted up her nerves. What was she going to do?

The truck had been behind her for the past twenty miles. Madelyn had tried to blow it off by rationalizing that many people traveled this route straight from Maryland all the way to Norfolk, Virginia. The region, known as the Eastern Shore, was a strip of land, a peninsula that was surrounded by the ocean on one side and the Chesapeake Bay on the other.

She’d gotten off the highway twice to test the truck. The vehicle may have disappeared for short periods, but it always appeared again behind her. She didn’t know what was going on or why someone would follow her.

But she had to end this. Now.

With her grip tight on the steering wheel, she swerved onto a side street. She hoped her GPS would reroute her to the duplex where she was staying and that being on a secluded road with the truck wouldn’t lead to more danger. Losing the truck was all she could think of.

Unfortunately, she’d been trained as a journalist and not in defensive or evasive driving techniques. Maybe she should add those to her bucket list. At times like this it would come in handy.

Though the speed limit was only thirty-five, she gunned the engine of her eight-year-old sedan. The Nissan wasn’t what it used to be, and her motor groaned as she accelerated.

She didn’t care. She’d worry about her car later. Right now she wanted to get away and lose this truck once and for all. She feared her very life might depend on it.

The road was narrow with deep ditches on either side. Maybe pulling off hadn’t been the greatest of ideas. Her location allowed little room for error. She became more secluded with every rotation of the tires.

Madelyn glanced in the rearview mirror again. The truck had turned after her!

Her heart rate ratcheted again. What was she going to do? None of this made sense.

Only one person knew her real reason for coming here—her editor. Paula would have no reason to expose Madelyn’s true intentions—it would cost them the story of a lifetime if she did. Something was seriously wrong.

A half a mile later she swerved into a gravel lane and gunned it, traveling down the street as quickly as possible. She had to lose the truck. As she pulled into a service road ending in the woods, she heard a pop. Her car bounced and bumped.

She’d busted a tire, she realized.

Great.

She’d have to address that in a moment. For now, she cut her car lights, hoping she’d remain concealed in the shadows.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she waited. Would the truck follow her? Trap her here?

If that happened, what would the driver do to her? Did he want to hurt her?

None of this made sense.

She continued to wait, her heart pounding out of control. She imagined the pain she might endure if the wrong person found her. Torture. Suffering. Who knew what else?

Each thought caused her anxiety to skyrocket even more.

As perspiration sprinkled her forehead, she glanced at the time. It had been five minutes and no truck. Could she really have lost him? It seemed too good to be true.

She sucked on her bottom lip a moment, still trying to figure out why she would be followed. There was only one person who wouldn’t want her to write the article, and that was the town’s police chief, Zach Davis. But even he didn’t know she was coming or what her real motivation was.

As far as everyone else knew, she was writing a travel article on the quaint town. Its location between the Chesapeake Bay and the Atlantic Ocean made it an ideal spot for the flourishing seafood industry.

Madelyn wasn’t here for the fishing, though. She didn’t even like to eat seafood, truth be told. But she was here to fish for what could be the story of her life.

Being here was precarious. Her assignment involved a trace amount of deceit. But the rewards outweighed the risks. At least, that’s what she told herself. Her conscience kept contradicting the thought.

She justified her actions with one word: justice. She could expose wrongs done by the arrogant and help them to get the negative exposure they deserved. It was what every good journalist wanted—to be a voice of change and reason. To make a difference. To impact the world.

She held her breath as a shadow overtook the mouth of the service road. Another vehicle was coming toward her, she realized.

Her blood spiked with adrenaline. She needed a weapon, a way to protect herself. But she had nothing. And she’d secluded herself in the middle of the woods where no one would hear her scream.

Her cell phone, she realized. She could call for help! Except when Madelyn turned it on, her screen showed she had no reception.

Before she could second-guess herself, Madelyn climbed from the car, grabbed her purse and darted into the woods. She ran as hard as she could, her ankles twisting in her heels. She couldn’t be sure how far she’d gotten. But when she saw the car pull up behind hers, she froze, ducking behind a tree. She couldn’t risk being spotted.

Peering out, she watched carefully as the vehicle came to a stop behind hers, essentially blocking her in. Only, it wasn’t the white truck. It was a police cruiser.

She sucked in a quick breath.

A police cruiser?

Dread filled her when she saw the man who’d stepped out. Zach Davis. She’d recognize him anywhere thanks to all of the research she’d done on the man. Just because he was knock-me-over gorgeous with his curly blond hair and blue eyes didn’t mean he was a good guy.

Was he trying to stop Madelyn before she got to town and uncovered all of the unsavory moments of his life?

Was he somehow working with the driver of that white truck? It was the only thing that made sense. He must have somehow found out Madelyn was coming and planned his defense. All of her assumptions about the man were proving to be true. He deserved to be locked behind bars.

He marched toward her car and peered inside.

Madelyn made sure not to move, to remain perfectly still.

As the police chief straightened, his gaze skimmed the area.

Madelyn held her breath. Would he see her? For her safety, she prayed he didn’t. Because if he was as dangerous as she thought, she was in real trouble.

* * *

Zach Davis sensed he was being watched. As he scanned the woods, his gaze tried to zero in on something out of place. Proof teased the edge of awareness. Something was there. Hidden yet possible to find.

His hand went to his gun, just to be safe.

He’d gotten a report of a car driving erratically in this area. Since he was already close by, he’d decided to check it out. He’d followed the trail of dust on the gravel lane and found the burgundy Nissan. Where had the driver gone?

He’d already recorded the license plate number, and the car’s make and model. He’d run them soon. Until then, he had to pinpoint why he felt like he was being watched.

“I know you’re there. Come out.” His hand remained on his gun. “Let’s make this easy on both of us.”

A squirrel scattered up a tree. A bird chirped as it hurried across the canopy of branches overhead. A fly buzzed at his ear.

But silence was the only response from the person hiding. Usually people only hid when they were guilty of something. What was this person up to?

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he continued. He shifted, trying to get a better look. He saw a gleam as sunlight hit something reflective. Sunglasses maybe?

A woman, he realized.

“I’m Police Chief Zach Davis from Waterman’s Reach. I won’t hurt you. We just need to talk.”

Again, nothing.

He stepped closer, afraid he would scare the woman and she’d take off in a run. She’d get lost in these woods. There were miles and miles of them out here. If the woods didn’t get to her, the wild animals would. Cottonmouths had been especially rampant this year.

“I have all of the time in the world,” he continued. “You can try to wait me out, but it won’t work. You can run, but you’re going to put yourself at risk of getting lost, getting injured or being dinner for some of the wildlife out here. It’s your choice. I’d say I’m the least scary of all of them.”

That seemed to do the trick. The woman stepped out ever so slightly, her hands in the air and an untrusting look in her eyes. “I assure you, I’m not looking for trouble.”

“Then why are you running?”

“Why are you chasing me?” she countered.

“Chasing you? I’m just following the lead of a citizen who was concerned by careless driving.”

“I was only driving carelessly because someone was following me.”

Following her? Was he dealing with someone who struggled with paranoia? Or was someone actually following the woman?

“Why don’t you step out here so we can talk like two rational human beings?” he asked.

“How do I know I can trust you?” Her voice wavered.

“I’m a cop. I have no reason to hurt you. Unless you’re aiming a gun at me, we should be just fine.”

Finally the woman emerged from the woods, wobbly in her high heels. Her gray skirt was stained and there was a leaf in her hair.

His breath caught for a moment.

She definitely didn’t look like she was from around here. Her hair was brown and glossy and cut neatly to her shoulders. She wore a white top with black polka dots and a straight gray skirt that reached her knees. Her heels looked uncomfortably high, and her purse probably cost more than Zach made in one week.

Both her words and the way she spoke indicated she was well educated. Just who was she, though? She just didn’t fit into the dynamic he’d experienced so far in the town. Most people here were grounded in the fishing industry. They had deep tans, easy accents and chose jeans to pencil skirts.

Most people who came into town for work had something to do with the seafood industry. But this woman did not appear to be the type to deal with fish or oysters. She looked too big-city.

Despite his initial attraction, his next thought quickly dampened the surge. She reminded him of Julia, he realized, the woman who’d broken his heart after the Baltimore fiasco when she’d left him faster than someone fleeing an oncoming tornado.

“A white truck followed me on my way down from Maryland,” the woman started. “I pulled off the main road trying to get away from it. I thought you could be connected with the other driver.”

She sounded scared but otherwise rational.

Concern filled him. If she was telling the truth—and he was beginning to think she was—then this could be a bad situation. “Any idea why someone might be following you?”

“None.” She crossed her arms.

“An ex-boyfriend?”

She shook her head. “No. Not a current boyfriend or spouse either. I have no good ideas as to whom this might be.”

“What’s your name, ma’am?”

She licked her lips, looking almost reluctant. “Madelyn Sawyer.”

“Where are you headed, Madelyn?”

Her frown deepened. “Waterman’s Reach.”

His eyebrows shot up. The town didn’t have that many visitors. City council wished they did. They pushed to have more people. But especially this time of the year, the place was mostly locals—5,479 to be exact. As the new chief, he made sure he knew all he could about the town.

“What brings you there?”

Her chin jutted up. “I’m writing an article, if you must know. A travel article. I’ve already been in touch with Eva Rogers, and she’s expecting me.”

He shifted, finally moving his hand from his gun. He had received some kind of memo about a visit from a reporter. The mayor had encouraged city employees to make her feel welcome and had reminded them how important this push for tourism was.

Zach had essentially ignored the memo. He’d had no intention of interacting with the reporter. No, a reporter was the last person he wanted to have contact with. He didn’t need some nosy journalist digging into his background. If she did, his whole investigation could be ruined.

“Do you remember anything about this truck that was following you?” he asked, suddenly ready to have this conversation done.

“Not much. It was white, probably ten years old, with tinted windows and a dent in the front bumper. Sound familiar?” Was that a challenge in her voice? What sense did that make?

“Can’t say it does. But I’ll see what I can find out.”

“I’d appreciate it.” She stared at her flat tire.

“Do you have a spare?” Zach asked. As much as he’d like to limit their interaction, that wasn’t going to be possible, was it?

She shook her head. “The last time I had a flat, my spare popped. I’ve had a bit of bad luck when it comes to car problems lately.”

“I can give you a ride back.” It was the least he could do. If there was some kind of threat on this woman’s life, he needed to do his duty as police chief. Then he wanted to be done with her.

He paused before climbing into his cruiser. A branch snapped in the woods. It wasn’t an unusual sound in itself. It could be a deer or even a raccoon. But that familiar feeling of being watched filled him again.

He glanced around but saw no one. What if Madelyn was telling the truth? What if the driver of that white truck was out in those woods somewhere watching them?

He scanned the woods one more time.

Then he heard the sound of someone crashing through the underbrush.

“Stay here!” he shouted before darting into the forest.


TWO (#ulink_d981a16f-473a-55f0-b532-b6679e303381)

Zach dodged trees and stumps and underbrush as he rushed after the figure in the distance. The woods were thick and hard to navigate. But he needed to figure out who was out there.

Maybe the person fleeing was a hunter who’d stumbled across them and feared getting caught without a permit. It was a possibility. And some hunters would run rather than face fines.

Zach reached a slight clearing and paused. He’d lost sight of the man he was following. Where had he gone?

He listened, hoping for a clue. Nothing signaled the man’s location. Cautiously, he took a step forward. He surveyed the area, his instincts on alert.

The man couldn’t have just disappeared. Was he hiding? Waiting to ambush Zach?

He had to be careful. He’d seen firsthand just how easy it was for an officer of the law to lose his life. Too many good people had died in the line of duty.

As he took another step toward an especially thick section of trees, he heard something click.

A gun, he realized.

Zach ducked to the ground. His heart pounded in his ears. He listened for footsteps, for any sign the gunman was getting closer or trying to stage an ambush.

Nothing.

Then a crack filled the air.

Something whizzed over him and splinters rained on his shoulders.

A bullet had hit the tree above him, he realized. A few more inches, and he would have been toast.

Heavy footsteps darted away. Branches snapped. Underbrush rustled.

Zach sprang to his feet, darting toward the sound. The man busted through the woods. Zach caught a glimpse of a long-sleeved black shirt, black pants and a black hat. Whoever was out here wasn’t a hunter. But he was trying to remain concealed. That was the only reason someone dressed like that.

Zach thrust himself through the wilderness, trying to reach the man. Shooting at a police officer was a serious crime. Zach had to do everything he could to catch the man.

A clearing stretched ahead. This was his chance.

Zach pushed himself harder.

A whistle sounded in the distance. He glanced over and saw a train traveling toward them down the tracks. His breath caught.

No...

With a burst of energy, he sprinted toward the man, gaining speed by the moment.

Just as the man crested the tracks, the train barreled past.

Zach stepped back as the force of the engine brought with it a rush of wind. His hands went to his hips and he shook his head.

The shooter’s timing had been impeccable. Two more minutes’ difference would have yielded different results. Zach could have caught him, pulled that mask off and figured out who the man was, once and for all.

Zach stared down the length of the train—it was long. Really long. He knew by the time it went past, the man would be gone.

Shaking his head, Zach stomped back toward the sight of the shooting. He found the bullet lodged into the tree and studied it for a moment. He couldn’t tell much about it. He only knew it had come way too close to his head.

He pulled some tweezers and a bag from his pocket and collected the bullet. He used his phone to take some pictures.

He searched the ground for footprints, but they’d had a dry summer and the soil was rock hard. Just as he suspected, he found nothing.

He gave one last glance in the direction the bullet had come from and then turned back.

He had to make sure Madelyn Sawyer was okay. Because he had a feeling this all led back to her.

* * *

Madelyn felt beside herself. She’d been followed, stranded in the middle of nowhere and then she’d heard a gunshot. Had the chief been injured? Or had Zach Davis shot someone? Who had that man in the woods been?

The questions all collided in her mind.

She heard someone moving through the woods and froze.

Was it Zach? Or could it be the driver of the white truck? Her nerves were getting the best of her and making it hard to breathe.

In the quiet moments by herself, she’d remembered the truck. She’d remembered the risks she was taking by coming here. This could be her big break, she reminded herself. If she was able to get some dirt on Zach Davis, it could be the story of her life. The story that would make her boss proud. That would cement her role in the world of respected journalists who’d written stories that made a difference.

She backed away from the tree line, putting her car between her and whoever was coming her way. This was how it all ended in scary movies. A woman alone in the woods, thinking help was coming when it was really the killer.

She swallowed hard and glanced around for something to protect herself with. All she saw was gravel and sticks.

It was going to have to work.

She reached down and scooped up some pebbles. She could use them to distract someone, if it came down to it.

She crouched behind the car, waiting, anticipating.

Finally, a figure broke through the trees. Her eyes were riveted on the man.

Zach, she realized as his features came into focus. It was Zach. Her shoulders slumped with relief.

He lumbered onto the service road and squinted when he saw her behind the car.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She stood, dropping the pebbles and straightening her outfit. She raised her chin as she looked at him. “I’m fine. I heard a gun...”

“Someone shot at me.”

Her pulse spiked. This was worse than she imagined. “Did you catch him?”

Zach shook his head. “No. He got away, thanks to a train passing through. But I have the bullet and I plan to run ballistics on it.”

“I’m glad...you’re okay.” Where had that come from? Zach Davis was possibly a bad cop, someone who deserved to be locked up. She shouldn’t be wishing the best for him.

“I can only assume it was a hunter trying to scare me away. I can’t think of any other explanation. Can you?” He challenged her with his gaze.

Her cheeks heated, and she shook her head. Great. He already suspects me. “I still have no idea why I was followed.”

His accusatory gaze remained on her another moment before he finally looked away. “I guess we should get you into town, so I can get back to the office and process this.”

She swallowed hard. “That sounds like a great idea.”

Zach grabbed her suitcase and placed it in the trunk before they both climbed into his police cruiser. The car was neat with a leathery scent. Madelyn tried to settle back into the vehicle and not give any signals that she knew who Zach Davis really was. But it was hard to hide her nervous energy. She wanted to tap her foot, to play with her hair, to do uncountable things that could clue Zach in that she was on edge.

“Sorry about your arrival in town.” Zach headed back down the service road, his arm slung across the seat as he peered out the back glass.

“These things happen, I suppose. Just not usually to me.”

He offered an apologetic smile and pulled out onto the side street. “So, you’re writing a tourism piece?”

Madelyn nodded, realizing he was just making polite conversation. She had to chill out if she didn’t want to raise suspicions. “That’s right. I’m with East Coast International. You ever heard of it?”

“Sounds vaguely familiar. I don’t read too many regional magazines, however.” He glanced at her as the miles began to blur past. “Have you written a lot of travel articles?”

“I’ve done my fair share.” It was almost all she’d done, truth be told. But she longed for more. To do articles that made a difference. She wanted to be a voice of change, someone who could help the helpless, who brought justice to those who deserved it.

They were lofty goals. But she held tight to them.

“Why Waterman’s Reach?” Zach asked.

She shrugged, trying to remain calm. “The town seemed like an undiscovered treasure. That’s what I like. Anyone can write about Myrtle Beach or Williamsburg or the popular tourist spots. I want to show the places off the beaten path.”

“Well, you’ve definitely got the undiscovered part down being in Waterman’s Reach.”

She glanced at him. It was hard for her to comprehend that the very man she’d done so much research on was here now. She was riding with him. Close enough to touch. A hint of thrill, as well as fear, spread through her.

She cleared her throat. “How about you? How long have you been here?”

Was it her imagination or did Zach’s gaze darken at her question?

“A few months.” He didn’t offer any more details.

“So you’re not a local.” She tried to sound surprised. “I always imagined a town like Waterman’s Reach to be the kind where jobs like police chief were handed down generationally.”

He smiled softly, maybe sadly. “No, I’m an outsider, which has brought some challenges of its own. In fact, the prior police chief’s nephew works under me. But the mayor thought some change would be good for the town.”

“Has it been?” she asked.

“You’ll have to ask the people in town that question.” Just as he said that, he turned off the main highway and into Waterman’s Reach. A quaint-looking town came into view. She quickly glimpsed the cobblestone sidewalks, antique-looking streetlights and picturesque storefronts.

Before she could soak too much of it in, Madelyn looked down at the paper where she’d jotted her travel information and rattled off the address. Zach turned off Main Street and pulled to a stop in a parking lot behind the downtown area in Waterman’s Reach.

“This is where you’re going?” Zach looked around as if confused. There were no bed-and-breakfasts or hotels close, which might explain why he looked baffled.

She pointed to a house across the lot. “Right there, if I understand correctly.”

Thank goodness she’d taken the time to look up the address online, so she had some idea of how the duplex looked. Dusk had fallen now, casting dim shadows on everything. She’d wanted to get here while it was still daylight outside, but that plan had been interrupted.

“Mayor Ron Alan’s rental property?” Zach asked.

“Yes, that’s correct. He’s letting me use it while I’m in town.” She still felt a little guilty about it. The mayor had gone out of his way to make her feel welcome. How would he feel when he found out she wasn’t writing a travel article but instead a hit piece on the town’s police chief?

“Mayor Alan owns quite a bit of real estate in the area,” Zach told her. “That’s how he originally made a name for himself. He used his inheritance to buy up real estate when the prices were low, and now he rents them out. In fact, even my house belongs to the man.”

“Small-town dynamics, huh? You’ve got to love them.”

He put the car in Park and started to get out.

“I can get my suitcase. Don’t worry about it,” Madelyn insisted.

He paused, one leg already on the ground. “I don’t mind. I can walk it up for you.”

“No, really. I’ve already put you out today, and I know you have reports to file, especially since that bullet came your way. Let me handle my suitcase.” She really wanted to be away from the man. She needed space to collect her thoughts.

“If you insist.” He shrugged, closing his door again. “If you have any more problems while you’re in town, let me know. In the meantime, I’ll call a tow truck to pick up your car. Fisher’s Auto Repair is the closest. Next shop is about thirty minutes out.”

“Fisher’s will be fine.”

“Will do.”

Her hands trembled as she stepped from the car and onto the cracked asphalt of the small, shadowed parking lot. Zach popped the trunk, and she ran around to grab her suitcase. Handle in hand, she leaned into the car once more. “Thanks again.”

“Hope you get that article written without any trouble,” he said.

His words froze her a moment. Then she realized it wasn’t a threat, but an observation based on what had happened earlier today.

She let out an airy laugh. Not a smooth move, Madelyn. You’ve got to be on the ball here.

“Thank you,” she murmured. She waved and took a step back.

“I’ll wait until you get inside.”

“I’ll be fine. I want to stretch my legs for a moment.” She needed to be away from his scrutiny as soon as possible.

He raised his eyebrows, as if he doubted her words. “As you wish.”

She waited until he pulled away to survey the area for any sign of danger, hating how her body had gone into fight-or-flight mode. All she spotted was the back side of the shops lining Main Street. A municipal lot was located dead center between buildings and houses that formed a U around it.

That U shape also meant she was hidden from eyesight from anyone walking the town’s sidewalks. The area back here was deserted, as most of the businesses had already closed for the evening.

The good news was that she didn’t see the white truck anywhere.

The bad news was that, if the truck’s driver did show up, no one would be around to hear her scream.

She shivered at the thought. All the craziness from earlier had shaken her up. Being followed. Meeting Zach the way she had. Hearing he’d been shot at.

It would leave anyone unsettled.

She glanced up at the house in front of her. Her temporary home was a two-level duplex the mayor owned and used as rental property. The home looked contemporary, well kept and clean with its blue siding and white trim. She was staying on the second floor, and if she understood correctly, the first floor was currently unoccupied.

She approached the stoop. A cardboard box had been left there with her name on it. Cautiously, she took the note on top off.

“For Madelyn, welcome to Waterman’s Reach. Here are some of our famous oysters to give you a taste of the town. Cordially, Mayor Alan.”

Madelyn swallowed a bitter taste in her mouth.

Instead of dwelling on her deceit now, she glanced around. Where was that lockbox where she could get the key?

By the garage, she remembered. She walked to the small building at the side of the house, found a small case beside the electrical box and turned the numbers there until the code was entered. The mechanism clicked open, and she pulled the key out.

As she walked back toward the door, she shuddered. There was something about being alone in a new place that always got to her. She tried to be tough. But on the inside, she constantly battled herself and her fears.

It wasn’t a fun position to be in.

She was going to get through this and prove to her colleagues that she was someone to watch out for in the field of investigative journalism.

She wanted to—no, make that needed to—prove herself.

The realization seemed a bit pitiful. She shouldn’t have to prove herself. But something was programmed into her thoughts, something at gut level, that made her believe that her self-worth was based on a certain set of criteria, no matter how much she might deny it.

She paused when she heard a sound behind her. Her shoulders instantly tightened. What was that?

She turned but saw nothing. Just trash cans, some old pallets and a broom.

Strange.

With a touch of hesitation, Madelyn hurried toward the door, her heels clacking against the pavement. That was rule number one that her mentor had taught her: always dress for success.

Madelyn heard that sound behind her again and paused. Fear began to gel in her stomach. Before she could turn, a hand covered her mouth.

Her heart surged with panic. What was happening?

Was she being robbed? Mugged? Murdered?

“Get out of this town,” someone whispered in her ear.


THREE (#ulink_5a09d767-dec6-5258-91f9-e9becb1d6781)

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.


FOUR (#ulink_8af55fc5-f5a8-5f1b-953f-70dc947f26bf)

Zach knocked on Madelyn’s door after receiving her frantic phone call. She’d told Lynn—the dispatcher—that a man had been watching her from the beach and that he could be connected with the earlier incidents. Zach had still been at the police station when the call came in, so the trip to Madelyn’s place had been quick.

She jerked the door open and stepped back. Her arms were wrapped across her chest, her eyes had that dazed, wide-eyed look and her breathing seemed too shallow. The woman was honestly scared, he realized. This wasn’t a game or a cry for attention or any of the other possibilities that had wandered through his mind.

“Thanks for coming.” Madelyn tugged her beige sweater closer around her neck. “I’m sorry. I’m not always a damsel in distress. I don’t know what’s going on here.”

Zach didn’t know what was happening either, but he would love some answers. “Again, the only thing we can assume is that it sounds like someone doesn’t want you here in Waterman’s Reach. And I have to ask once more, any idea why?”

She frowned. “Haven’t we been through this? And shouldn’t you be looking for the man who was watching me out there instead of interrogating me?”

He hooked his hand on his gun belt and nodded toward the water beyond the house. “I already searched the beach on my way here. Whoever was there is long gone. He probably went to his car and drove off as soon as he realized he’d been spotted.”

“Or he went to his white truck.” Madelyn raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to follow her chain of thoughts.

“Or his white truck,” he conceded before shifting his stance. “Look, Madelyn, I’m sorry. I know this can’t be easy on you, but I assure you we’re doing everything we can to find the person responsible. This isn’t normal for Waterman’s Reach.”

She offered a stiff nod, still not appearing totally convinced. “I appreciate it.”

“Can I come in a moment?”

“Of course.”

As she moved aside, he stepped into the duplex and followed behind her up a set of stairs into the living area above. He needed to find out more information so he could write a report.

Madelyn paused between the combined kitchen and dining room. “Can I get you some coffee? I think there’s some around here.”

Zach started to refuse but changed his mind. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would love some. It’s been a long day.”

“I wonder why.” Her voice was tinged with sarcasm as she went into the kitchen and began fiddling with the coffeepot. A couple of minutes later, a fresh pot was perking.

She came over to the kitchen table, where he sat. The sleeves of her oversized sweater were pulled down over her hands, almost like she was using the clothing as a blanket. She lowered herself into the chair across from him.

He leaned toward her. “Madelyn, I need to ask you some questions so we can narrow down what’s going on here. Obviously someone has you in his crosshairs—figuratively, of course.”

She frowned. “Of course.”

“I can’t believe at this point that this is random—that someone simply saw you driving down Lankford Highway, decided to follow you and this chain of events is a result.”

“I agree that sounds like a stretch. But I really don’t have any good ideas for you.”

“Usually in cases like this, we look at the people closest to you. I know you said there’s no boyfriend or ex-boyfriend. But maybe you have an admirer or even an ex-boyfriend who’s in your distant past, whom you haven’t heard from in years.”

She stood as the coffee finished perking, grabbed a mug and poured a cup for him. “Cream or sugar?”

“Just black. Thanks.”

She brought him the drink and grabbed a cup for herself before sitting down again. Tight lines stretched across her face, and her movements looked stiff, almost stoic.

She sighed before saying, “I really have no idea. I haven’t had any serious boyfriends. I have no secret admirers. I have no blatant admirers for that matter. I mostly just have my career.”

Zach found that hard to believe. He’d guess there were plenty of guys who wouldn’t mind dating someone like Madelyn Sawyer. She was pretty, her eyes were kind and when she smiled it could take someone’s breath away. The woman was probably so focused on her career that she didn’t notice. She seemed like the driven type.

“Okay, how about family? Any arguments or fights or bad blood?”

She shook her head, her hands trembling against her coffee mug. “No, I have no family.”

“None at all?” Certainly they were just estranged. She was too young to be all alone.

“None. I was an only child, and my parents died in a car crash.” It sounded like it took all of her energy just to say that.

Zach had the impulse to reach forward and grab Madelyn’s hand. Of course he didn’t. It wouldn’t be professional. Instead, he said, “I’m sorry.”

She nodded, but the action was tight. Grief shone in waves through her eyes. “Thank you.”

He snapped back to the investigation, trying to push away any concern and to deny his strange urge to offer her comfort. “How about coworkers? Any of them have a grudge against you?”

She stared out the window a moment. “I write travel articles. It’s not like I’m a critic who tears apart movies or restaurants. I don’t write about crime. I help towns get business. The office staff is small. It’s just me, my editor and a couple of other full-timers. Everyone else is freelance. We all get along.”

He frowned. “So there’s really no one? This doesn’t give us much to go on.”

Madelyn pulled her sleeves down farther over her hands and rubbed them together. She appeared so alone, so lost. “I’m sorry. I wish I had more. I haven’t seen anything. I haven’t talked to anyone or had any confrontations with strangers. I’m pretty sure I haven’t even looked at anyone the wrong way.”

“That sounds pretty thorough.”

She frowned. “So what should I do? Should I listen to the man’s threat and go home?”

“I can’t make that decision for you.” Part of Zach thought that sounded like the best idea of all. But there was no guarantee someone wouldn’t follow her wherever she went. Plus, Zach never liked to give in to pressure caused by bullies.

He knew all about that.

He’d held his ground and ended up losing his job because of it.

Madelyn’s eyelids drooped, and she still hadn’t touched her coffee. She was exhausted, he realized. He stood, feeling like he’d done all he could do here.

“I should let you get some rest. Call me if you need me.”

“Will do. Thank you again.” She started to stand.

Zach held up a hand to stop her. “I can walk myself out. Really.”

He lumbered down the steps. At the bottom landing, he saw a piece of paper that had fallen against the wall. He picked it up and started to call for Madelyn when the words there caught his eye.

“Zach B. Davis

30 years old

Originally from Richmond, Virginia.”

Was this Madelyn’s? Why would the regional reporter have personal information written out about him? Wasn’t she here to do a travel piece on the town?

His back muscles suddenly went rigid. She may come off as being kind and sweet, but that didn’t mean she was.

He needed to keep an eye on Madelyn Sawyer, that was for sure. One wrong move, and she could ruin everything.

* * *

Madelyn had awakened the next morning with a new determination to investigate Zach Davis. When he’d shown up at her duplex last night, she’d found herself softening, opening up. She had to remember her mission—she needed to put professional distance between her and the subject of her article.

She glanced across the beach now. The sun set in the distance, streaking royal colors across the sky. She was a guest of honor at an oyster roast. The event was amazing. Mayor Alan was hosting it at his place, which was located on a long, private stretch of beach. A band played on a makeshift stage closer to the house, tables full of seafood had been laid out and people were readily engaging in the feast there. The smell of seafood, unappealing when she’d first arrived in town, now seemed alluring.

She’d spent the day with Eva Rogers, the town’s publicity manager, and had taken a tour of the retail area. They’d gone in various shops that featured items from local artists. They’d had coffee at The Java House. Then lunch at a seafood restaurant called Jim Buoy’s.

Later, a horse and carriage had eased them down the town’s streets and offered amazing views of some of the character-rich homes. A historian had joined them and had given Madelyn an account of the town from all the way back in the day when the area had been a bustling port and a playground for wealthy hunters and fishermen.

Despite herself, Madelyn was fascinated by everything she learned. She hadn’t thought she’d enjoy hearing about or seeing the town like she did. But the community was quaint and friendly and had something Madelyn had been seeking for her entire adult life: belonging. Her car had even been personally delivered back to her today with a note that the repair was “on the house.”

If she would allow herself to forget about the threats she’d encountered since leaving Maryland for the sleepy town, she might actually enjoy this place. Those things remained in the back of her mind, though. As did the real reason for her being here.

She glanced across the crowd again and spotted the one person she’d come to town to research. Zach Davis.

He was here at the oyster roast, talking with a group of people near the large grill. He’d dressed casually in jeans and a well-fitting T-shirt. He didn’t seem like the life-of-the-party type, but instead he stood back, engaging in the conversations around him in an easy-going manner. His back was never toward the crowd, and she’d caught him scanning his environment several times.

He seemed calm and steady, not the least bit impulsive or flighty, Madelyn mused. Maybe he hadn’t always been like this. Maybe he’d sobered after the fiasco in Baltimore. She couldn’t draw her conclusions too quickly, though. Even if she’d come into town with a different image of the man than the one he presented, that didn’t mean he was innocent.

As he glanced up, she quickly looked away.

“He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?” Eva suddenly appeared at her side. She carried a plate of oysters in one hand and a tall, dewy glass of a cheerful-looking drink in the other.

Eva was probably in her midfifties and had short brown hair that seemed to poof around her face. The woman had a quick smile and a bubbly personality that had made Madelyn feel right at home.

Madelyn shrugged, desperate not to give herself away, and took a sip of her lemon water. “I suppose.”

“We’re all so excited to have him here. He’s done an outstanding job so far.”

“Where’d he come from?”

Eva tapped her lips. “Hmm...you know, I can’t remember. But it was some other little town. Smuggler’s Cove, I believe. It’s a little island out in the bay.”

“I can’t imagine his job keeps him busy here.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s boring, but that’s the way we like it. Boring equals safe so we’ll take it.”

Suddenly, Madelyn straightened as she peered in the distance beyond Eva. A white pickup truck disappeared down the road and out of sight. She sucked in a deep breath at the sight, that fear that was becoming all too familiar coursing through her until her arms shook.

“Is everything okay?” Eva examined Madelyn with motherly concern.

Madelyn rubbed her neck and nodded. “Yes, of course.”

Madelyn hadn’t mentioned anything to Eva about last night—either about the snatched oysters or the binoculars she’d seen someone using outside her apartment. It was better if she kept any attention off herself.

And Zach obviously ran a tight ship. In most small towns, it would be easy for word to spread and for everyone to know other people’s business. Zach seemed to have high standards. Had he encouraged those working under him to keep the incidents confidential?

“If it’s not our favorite reporter,” someone said.

Madelyn recognized the man as Mayor Alan. They’d been introduced briefly when she arrived at the oyster roast. The man had a thick blond mustache and matching hair that was graying on the edges. He had a solid build, a tanned complexion and a ready smile. His clothes screamed expensive and, based on everything she’d observed about him, he was wealthy. Maybe one of the wealthiest, most powerful people in town.

“Are you having a good time?” he asked.

“Yes, it seems like a great town you’ve got here.” She scanned her surroundings again, waiting to see a figure lurking.

She was being paranoid. Certainly there were other white trucks here in town. She had to get a grip.

The sun was setting over the bay, and the sky was lit in deep reds and purples. In other circumstances, this would have been an enjoyable day. A perfect day for that matter.

But Madelyn couldn’t relax. Not when so much was on the line.

She made chitchat with Eva and Mayor Alan, talking about the town and all of its charms and quirks. She tried to properly sell the idea that she was writing a travel article.

Just then, her phone buzzed. She pulled it out and looked down at the screen.

It’s Chief Davis. I have an update for you, but I’d like to tell you in person. Can you meet me by the shed on the edge of the property?

The chief was texting her? She had given him her contact information yesterday in case he had any more questions. But this seemed almost unprofessional.

She glanced around, looking for the chief, but she didn’t see him anywhere. Interesting.

“Could you excuse me a minute?” she asked Eva and Mayor Alan.

“Well of course!” the mayor said. “You’re the guest of honor here. I know you have a lot of people you want to speak with while you’re in town. Go right ahead.”

With a touch of trepidation, she started toward the shed. She supposed there weren’t many landmarks they could meet at besides on the beach. But unease continued to grow in her stomach with each step.

Did Zach Davis know why she was really here? Would he confront her? If he was as dangerous as Paula seemed to think, would he do more than confront her? Did he have the potential to...harm her?

She rubbed her hands on her linen pants as she reached the door. The sun sank below the horizon and sent another shiver down her spine.

In other circumstances, this would be romantic. Instead, she was alone. Was she always destined to be single? The question seemed both morbid and inconsequential. Paula always told her it was better to be alone. Having no plus-one meant freedom.

But Madelyn had seen what a good relationship her mother and father had, and she wanted that for her own life. She didn’t want to see the world by herself. She wanted a partner by her side to share her struggles and to celebrate her victories.

She let out a sigh and continued trudging through the sand. She was probably wishing for too much, and that made her seem weak. She needed to be strong right now, especially if she was meeting the chief. Zach Davis was the type who could easily see through facades. His gaze made it clear that he was always analyzing things around them. That would include Madelyn. The thought made her nervous. What if he could see through her? What would she do then?

She reached the shed, but no one was there. She glanced around. The crowds from the oyster roast were on the other side of the beach, far away from this building, which was set back on the grassy banks, away from the sand.

Where was Chief Davis? She searched the crowds in the distance again but didn’t spot him.

Impatient, she peered around the back side of the building. When she did, a masked man lunged at her from the shadows.

In an instant, her life flashed before her eyes.


FIVE (#ulink_f54ab313-d02e-5678-aa6a-bb9923beb336)

Madelyn struggled against the man in black—her captor. She thrashed, trying to get out of his grip. She tried to scream, but a gloved hand went over her mouth.

“I warned you,” the man grumbled.

Just hearing his gravelly voice ratcheted her fear to the next level. She thrashed even harder. She used her elbows to catch the man’s ribs. She kicked at his shins.

It was no use. He was stronger than she was and easily overpowered her. All of Madelyn’s efforts seemed futile.

She wasn’t ready to give up, though. She craned her neck, straining to catch a glance at her captor. His face was covered with a black mask, making him unrecognizable.

Had this been Zach all along? Had he secretly followed Madelyn into town and pretended someone else shot at him in the woods yesterday? Had he disguised his voice so she wouldn’t recognize him? He was the only person in town who’d known she was at her duplex alone last night. He’d had enough time to change before coming back and trying to run her out of town as she stood there on the stoop. He could have even been down by the pier with binoculars. The dispatcher had answered when she called, so Zach would have enough time to change again. Right now he could be concealing his face and trying to scare her out of town.

The man raised her off her feet and edged her toward the shed.

No!

She glanced down, trying to get any kind of clue as to who he might be. All she could see were his shoes. Black, glossy, sandy. She tried to memorize what she could.

In one motion, he tossed her into the shed. Her backside ached on impact, and the sudden motion caused a shovel to fall, landing hard on her hand.

“Go home,” the man growled as he leered into the darkness. She could only see the whites of his eyes, and that was enough to turn her stomach with fear.

Then he was gone. Blackness surrounded her. Something scraped outside the door.

The lock, she realized. The man had locked her in here.

Coming to her senses, she scrambled to her feet. Already, imaginary spiders were crawling across her skin. Her body let out an involuntary tremble as fear rose in her.

Alone...the word echoed in her head. The thought caused adrenaline to surge in her.

She pounded at the door. “Let me out of here!”

She stopped after several minutes and listened.

Between the music playing on the beach and everyone milling around eating oysters and other seafood, what were the chances that someone would hear her? Or even come looking for her? Eva might just assume she’d gone back to her apartment. It was a logical assumption since it was getting late.

She’d call for help, except she must have dropped her purse when the man grabbed her. Her phone had been tucked inside.

She banged on the door again, trying hard to get someone’s attention. “Please, help me!”

She waited, but there was nothing.

She pressed her forehead against the door a moment, trying to collect herself before she fell completely apart. She hated the dark. She hated confined spaces. She hated being alone.

Don’t think like that. Get focused. Come up with solutions.

Had Zach Davis locked her in here? Had he lured her to the shed and tried to scare her? Maybe he knew her real reason for being in town and needed to stop her. He was the most logical choice because he had the most to lose.

But how would he have found out Madelyn’s true intentions? Had he felt intimidated because he knew she was from Baltimore?

That realization ignited something in her. If Zach thought he would bully her into leaving, he was wrong. She was going to fight until the end.

She hit the door again, harder this time. “Please, help me!”

With no one responding still, she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. She glanced around, but it was too dark to see anything inside the small space. It smelled like gasoline and oil and lawn equipment. And though it was balmy outside, the inside of this shed was stuffy and humid after collecting heat all day.

How long would she be in here? What if no one found her? This space wasn’t large enough for the grill she’d seen outside. For all she knew, no one ever came out here except for the maintenance man on occasion.

That thought made her throat tighten.

No, she couldn’t think worst-case scenarios. She had to stay positive. Worrying would only pull her under.

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

She hadn’t thought of that verse from Matthew in a long time. Not since she’d been to church with her parents when she was a teenager. That had been ten years ago, yet at once the memories seemed so strong.

The ache in her chest deepened.

Would her parents be proud of her now? She couldn’t imagine them approving of her going undercover for a story. Though she considered her alias a cover and this whole scenario an effort for the greater good, her parents would consider it a lie.

Paula always said her parents sounded too stuffy and saw things too much in black-and-white. Madelyn couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that, though.

As the music continued outside the shed, Madelyn sank to the wooden floor.

Maybe Zach Davis was desperate to maintain his good reputation in the community. The only way to keep up this ruse was to get rid of Madelyn. She had no idea how he would have found what she was really up to. But he was probably resourceful.

Okay, Madelyn. Think.

She was in a shed. Certainly there were tools in here, some type of resource she could use to escape.

Blindly, she began feeling the space around her. Finally, she felt what she thought was a hammer. Could she bang her way out of here?

She didn’t have many options, so she decided to give it a shot. She pounded the tool against the wood, trying to make as much noise as possible.

“Please help me!”

Just then she heard a rustling on the other side. Had the man come back? Was he determined to keep her quiet once and for all?

She raised the hammer, determined not to be a victim.

The door opened.

The man standing on the other side caused her blood to go cold.

* * *

Zach blinked with surprise when he saw Madelyn Sawyer inside the shed with a hammer raised above her head. He thought he’d heard a noise coming from the building as he walked back to his truck. But he’d never expected this.

Madelyn looked frightened and rightfully so. Why was she in the shed with an unclasped padlock holding the door shut?

Before he could ask, she scrambled out, moving so frantically that she tumbled into his arms. As quickly as his hands went to her waist, she pulled back, obviously flustered. She raised the hammer again.

Her hands were shaking and her knuckles bleeding. Her normally well-placed hair looked disheveled. But that was nothing compared to the panic in her gaze.

The brief moment of relief in her eyes quickly turned to anger. Anger over what?

His concern morphed into curiosity.

“You can put the hammer down,” he urged, realizing how ugly this could turn.

The outrage remained in her gaze. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Madelyn. Please, put the hammer down. Assaulting the police chief isn’t the way you want to start your stay here.”

At that moment, she looked down at his feet. He followed her gaze and glanced at his tan boat shoes. Something about his footwear must have reassured her because she dropped the hammer on the ground and squeezed the skin between her eyes.

“What are you doing in the shed?” He felt like he should reach out to her, to reassure her, to offer some kind of comfort in the midst of her frightened state. But he also sensed that she would reject any touch he offered. For that reason, Zach stayed back, trying to give her space and time to compose herself as the sounds of the party continued to murmur in the background.

“I just thought I would check it out for my article.” She straightened her clothes—now stained—and raised her chin, some of her pride returning. She’d pushed aside her broken state, and determination now stained her gaze.

She started past him, but Zach grabbed her arm. Had a crime happened here? He couldn’t just pretend like he hadn’t seen any of this. He had a duty to the law. “No, really. I need to know what’s going on.”

She turned toward him, heat in her gaze.

It wasn’t the normal reaction he received after he’d helped someone. But nothing about Madelyn seemed normal. Not her uneasiness, her beauty, her interactions with him.

“A man locked me in there,” she said, her voice low and hard. “I don’t suppose you know anything about it?”

Surprise flashed through him. Was she accusing him? “Why would I know anything about it?”

She grabbed her purse, which was lying outside the shed like she’d dropped it, and reached inside. A moment later, she shoved her phone in his face. “Does this text message look familiar?”

His eyes widened as he read the words there. “That’s not my number, and I never sent that text to you.”

“Sure it’s not.”

As she started to storm away again, he gently touched her arm. Compassion echoed through him as he realized she was frightened and shaken. The implications of what had happened washed over him. “No, really. It’s not my number, Madelyn. Look at my phone if you want.”

She stared at him a moment, as if trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. “How do I know you don’t have two phones?”

He shrugged. “I suppose you don’t.”

“Tell me why someone would send me a text and put your name in it?”

“That’s a good question. For some reason, someone wants to ensure that you don’t trust me.”

She stepped closer, challenge in her gaze. “Is that because you’re trying to hide something?”

His cheeks warmed with irritation. She was overstepping her boundaries—big time. “You need to tread carefully, Ms. Sawyer.”

“Is that a threat?” Her hands went to her hips.

That text message had done its job, it appeared, because the woman obviously didn’t have any faith in him.

“By no means is it a threat. I just think you’re not doing yourself any favors storming into town and making accusations.”

Flames lit in her eyes just as fireworks began exploding over the water. “What am I supposed to think?”

He crossed his arms, growing agitated. “I suppose you should consider that someone must really not want you here.”

“Exactly!”

“But why?” Why would someone feel this threatened by her? That’s what didn’t make sense. He’d asked himself that question many times since her arrival in town. There were obviously things about Madelyn Sawyer that he didn’t know yet. He had to keep prodding until he found some answers. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Isn’t it your job to figure out why this is happening?”

They stared at each other another moment. Tension crackled between them. He didn’t usually have such explosive encounters with pretty newcomers in town. In fact, most people thought he was levelheaded. But there was something about Madelyn that brought out a different side of him.

“Oh, there you are!”

Zach’s shoulders tightened even more. He knew who the voice belonged to. Eva. She had the worst timing possible. Or maybe it was the best. Who knew where the conversation would have gone otherwise.

“Hi, Eva,” Madelyn muttered.

“Good evening,” Zach said, following suit.

Eva looked between the two of them a moment, as if sensing she’d just interrupted something.

“Well...” she said slowly with a clap of her hands. “I’m glad I caught you together. I have good news. The two of you are going to do a ride along together tomorrow.”

Zach glanced over his shoulder toward Madelyn, half expecting her to be scowling. Instead, she nodded stiffly, confirming that she was okay with this.

“I have a busy day,” Zach said, not missing a beat.




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