“hint” and befriended her himself. Now it was probably too late. At least for today. Jon glanced down at his ensemble and chuckled. Perhaps it was for the best. In his hurry to get down here, he still had on his old paint-smeared flannel shirt over a faded T-shirt and raggedy cargo pants, also paint-smeared. Even his shaggy hair was overdue for a haircut. Not exactly dressed to impress.
As he called Ralph to go home, a siren sounded. The loud shrill blast was cut short, as if in warning, but it seemed to originate in the small parking area where the beach road ended at the foot of the dunes. The same place he’d suspected the runner might’ve parked her car when she’d come to run the other day. And the same reason he’d been walking down this far once or twice a day. Hoping to “casually” meet her again. With Ralph’s help, of course.
Curious as to what was up, Jon was just considering investigating when Ralph decided to take action. Giving out a sharp bark, he took off, racing toward the dunes that bordered the road. Jon thought about calling him back but, well aware of how his mother’s stubborn terrier took orders, he knew it was pointless. Besides, it might be important to know what was going on. His parents, who visited their beach cabin fairly regularly, had mentioned various rumors of criminal activity in these parts. Both retired attorneys, they had their different theories about what was actually going on. His dad seemed to think it was nothing, but his mom was suspiciously wary. Maybe Jon would discover a new piece of the puzzle for them. Besides, he needed to get Ralph.
* * *
Leah Hampton felt her stomach knot as she watched the uniformed officer from her rearview mirror. His plump face appeared flushed and slightly irritated in the late-afternoon sun. Glancing around the deserted dune area, as if worried someone else was around, he adjusted his dark glasses and sauntered up to her old Subaru. She’d noticed the unmarked car several miles back but hadn’t been concerned. She hadn’t been speeding on this isolated stretch of beach road—her car’s worn shocks couldn’t take it.
A wave of fresh anxiety swept over Leah as she reached for her wallet, ready to fish out her driver’s license and insurance card. She hoped her car’s registration hadn’t expired or that a taillight hadn’t burnt out. Those infractions could result in fines—expenses she couldn’t afford right now. She remembered the last time she’d been pulled over several years ago and how she’d talked her way out of a ticket. But she’d been dressed to the nines that night. Not so today.
Getting out of her car, she adjusted her running tank and smoothed her running shorts, forcing an optimistic smile. “Hello,” she said in a friendly tone. “I was just heading out for a beach run. Is something wrong, Officer?”
“Is that your car?”
“Yep.” She nodded at her old beater. “And I know I wasn’t speeding.”
“No....” He slowly glanced over his shoulder again. What was he looking for? “You weren’t speeding.”
“So what’s up?” She looked around, too. “Is there some kind of danger out here? I mean I do get a little concerned about jogging alone this time of day, especially down here, where there’s no phone connectivity. But I love this part of the beach, and I’m training for the Portland marathon and it’s hard to get my running time in.” She smiled again, deciding to try the sympathy card as she rambled on. “You see, I work part time at The Willows and—”
“You’ll need to come with me,” he said abruptly.
“Come with you?” She stared into the lenses of his dark sunglasses, trying to see the eyes behind them, but only the double image of her own puzzled face reflected back at her. “Why?”
“Because I have a warrant for your arrest.”
“But I haven’t done anything—I haven’t broken any laws.”
“Turn around.”
“But you haven’t even checked my ID. You don’t know who I am.” She held up her wallet, but before she could remove her driver’s license, he smacked her hand, sending the wallet spilling to the ground.
“Doesn’t matter who you are,” he growled, “not where you’re going.”
A silent alarm went off inside her. Something was seriously wrong here. This cop—if he was really a cop—was dangerous.
“I, uh, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” she said in a shaky voice, slowly stepping away from him, hoping to jump into her car and attempt a getaway or at least lean into her horn to get attention from a passerby. Not that there were any. Instead she bumped into the car door, slamming it shut with a loud bang.
In the same instant, he lunged toward her, grabbing her bare upper arm in a viselike grip. “I suggest you come quietly, blondie.”
“But I haven’t done anything to—”
“Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” He was so close she could feel his hot breath in her face. His pudgy lips curled slightly, sending a wave of nausea through her.
“You’ve got the wrong—”
“Okay!” He flipped her around to face her car with one arm twisted painfully behind her back. “You wanna do this the hard way. Fine by me.” He chuckled in a creepy way. “Just you wait and see, blondie.” He pinned her tightly against her car. As he fumbled with his handcuffs, short puffs of hot breath went down the back of her neck.
Her mind racing, Leah knew she was in trouble. Serious trouble. This guy was obviously not a cop. Or if he was a cop, he was a crooked one!
“Let me go!” she screamed at him, hoping to get the attention of a passerby. Although her hope of there being another human in the vicinity was fast fading. “You don’t even know who I am. And I tell you, I’m innocent!” He continued to ignore her and, roughly pressing the side of her face into the gritty roof of her car, he attempted to latch a cuff around her flailing wrist.
“Shut up and stop squirming!” he growled into her ear, unable to get control of her writhing hands.
“I didn’t do anything!” she screamed. “You’ve got the wrong person—just let me explain! I’m innocent! You’ve made a mis—”
Her words were cut off by a barking dog. She tried to turn to see, but the cop, still wrestling with the handcuffs, kept her pinned so tightly that she felt her ribs were about to crack. The cop cursed at the dog, telling him to “beat it or else!” but the dog kept on barking—almost as if it knew she was in trouble, and was trying to help.
* * *
Jon knew something was amiss as soon as he came over the ridge of the dunes. The way the unmarked car had boxed in the old Subaru, the way the uniformed cop had the girl pinned too roughly against her car. The creep factor was high. But when Jon glimpsed the woman’s profile, his hackles went up. It was the girl from the other day. Only now her expression was seriously frightened and she was yelling out that she was innocent. “You’re arresting me without just cause,” she shouted. “You’re not a real cop.”
“What’s going on here?” Jon called out over Ralph’s noisy barking.
The cop turned to Jon with a surprised expression.
“Can I be of help?” Jon continued ambling down the dune, trying to act natural.
“Yeah!
