Dark Harbor. Christy Barritt
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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