On the Lookout

by Christy Barritt

  Cassidy ignored his statement and, instead, pulled out her phone and showed him a picture. “Have you ever seen this man?”

  “May I?” Gilead reached for her phone, a questioning look in his eyes as he waited for her approval.

  Reluctantly, Cassidy let him hold it. There was something about this man she just didn’t trust. It was almost as if she feared he’d touch the phone and somehow absorb all the information inside. The fear was incredibly off-balance. But the feeling wouldn’t leave her.

  He grunted and handed the phone back. “No, I can’t say I’ve ever seen him.”

  “So you’re saying he wasn’t staying here,” she clarified.

  “No, I didn’t say that. I don’t have contact with everyone who comes here for help. I’m just saying the man doesn’t look familiar to me.” Each word sounded controlled, slow, and purposeful.

  “And no one who’s been staying here has gone missing?” Her words were equally as purposeful.

  “No, of course not.” Gilead leaned back and rested an ankle on his knee, as if doing a TV interview and trying to appear casual and relaxed—trying being the key word. “You think this man is a part of my group here?”

  “You mean, your retreat center?”

  “Yes, that’s what I meant. Why does it matter? It’s semantics, really.”

  “Because ‘group’ implies something different than retreat center.” She refused to let this man have the upper hand.

  His eyes darkened but only for a moment.

  “I’m saying that no one here has gone missing.” Gilead stood and tugged at the sleeves of his shirt. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have things I need to do, Cassidy—I mean, Chief Chambers. I’ll have my assistant show you out.”

  Cassidy wasn’t done here, but she knew she wouldn’t be getting any more answers from this man. Not now, at least.

  As she took a step away, Gilead called to her one last time. Cassidy pivoted, her nerves still on edge.

  With calm, cool motions, Gilead extended one hand, almost as if imitating a painting of Jesus that Cassidy had once seen, one in which He reached out to welcome lost sinners into His fold.

  “Remember, there’s always a place for you here, Cassidy,” Gilead said. “I could help you in your healing.”

  “My healing?” What in the world was he talking about?

  “I see the torrent of pain and fear in the depths of your eyes. You’ve been through something traumatic, something that totally changed your life. And I can tell you’re having a hard time getting over it. I have programs that could guide you and make you a new person.”

  A shiver crept up her spine at his words.

  This man would not get to her.

  Yet, at the same time, he already felt dangerously close to doing just that.

  After leaving her encounter with Gilead, Cassidy knew she needed to decompress—if only for a moment. And there was no one she’d rather do that with than Ty. He just happened to be at a good stopping place with his work on the cabanas—at least, that was what he’d said.

  As he prepared some coffee for them, Cassidy put in a quick call with the North Carolina State Bureau of Investigation. She needed to know if statewide law enforcement had their eye on this Anthony Gilead guy and, if so, what they knew. An agent there promised to call her back.

  Ty emerged from the house with two cups in his hands. She drew in a quick breath at the sight of him. He wore his jeans—old ones that he worked in, but they still looked good on him. On his feet were his signature cowboy boots that reminded her he was a Texas boy at heart. His black, long-sleeved T-shirt was tight enough to show his sculpted abs and arms.

  And he was hers. All hers.

  She valued her husband’s advice, even if she only had forty-five minutes until she had to be back at the office. At least the sun was cooperating as it shone down on them, offsetting the chilly midday breeze.

  She finished telling Ty about her experience today with Gilead. Her gut told her this could be bigger than one island could handle, though it was too soon to say for sure.

  “What are you thinking?” Ty sat beside her on the deck swing, which gently swayed back and forth, while Kujo sat at their feet. “What’s your gut tell you about this guy?”

  Another chill ran through Cassidy as she remembered Gilead’s words to her before she left. I see the torrent of pain and fear in the depths of your eyes. You’ve been through something traumatic, something that totally changed your life. And I can tell you’re having a hard time getting over it.

  Mind games, she told herself. He was just playing mind games with her.

  Cassidy shifted to face her husband. “Ty, I know a little about the mind-set behind people in gangs and cults and the like. Raul—the leader of DH-7—could be very charismatic and convincing. He had a personality that people wanted to follow. And they did follow him—to the point where they were willing to give up their lives.”

  Ty’s gaze flickered with both wisdom and experience. “And you think this Gilead guy has those same qualities?”

  “I do. Let’s face it, religion is a great breeding ground for people who are in search of power.”

  He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and listened. “What do you mean?”

  Cassidy tried to choose her words wisely, but she never felt like she had to be on guard with what she said around Ty. Still, the subject was delicate. “Look at how many people practically worship their pastors. They never question them or doubt them. The pastors are up so high on a pedestal that they can do whatever they want. Not every church or every pastor is like that. I know that. But there are plenty who are. Some people are just desperate for someone to follow.”

  “And that’s not always the pastor’s fault.”

  “Absolutely. I’m not pointing my finger at every pastor out there. I’m just saying that there are people in this world who are willing to take advantage of people who are hurting and who are looking for someone to lead them.” She hadn’t grown up in church, and she hadn’t had a lot of negative experiences. In fact, her experience at church here on Lantern Beach had been wonderful and life-changing. But she’d been around the block enough to know that not everyone could say that. She’d seen abuse within the church walls in her job as a detective.

  “I agree. Not everyone in church leadership has the best of intentions. I’ve seen some ugly stuff myself. In fact, my church back in Texas had to fire their finance guy because he was embezzling money. There’s sin, and it’s everywhere—in church and outside of it.”

  She took another sip of her coffee. “I guess I’m just saying that this is how cults get started. People blindly following other people. And the members? They’re usually people who are at the end of their rope—the most vulnerable in society. They’re desperate, with nowhere else to go and no other hope.”

  Her words led to a moment of silence as the seriousness of the situation washed over them.

  “So what now?” Ty finally asked.

  Cassidy shook her head, feeling burdened. Her whole encounter today had gotten to her and only deepened the trepidation building inside her. “I don’t know. I wish I did. But all of this is just getting started.”

  “Maybe you’ll get more answers when Al’s wife gets into town.”

  “Maybe. I can only hope.” Cassidy’s phone rang. When she saw the message, she frowned and stood.

  “What is it?” Ty asked.

  “With everything going on, I totally forgot someone was coming in today to interview for the position on the force.”

  “It’s a good thing the station isn’t far away.”

  “I better get there now. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “I’ll fix dinner. Maybe some fish with a nice salad.”

  “That sounds perfect.” A moment of normal was just what she needed.

  Before she walked away, Ty grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him for a quick kiss. “I look forward to it.”

  Chapter Nine

  Cassid
y tried to compose herself before walking into the station. This would be her first time interviewing someone for employment, and she had to admit she felt a rush of nerves.

  See? She wasn’t the type to take over a business like her father’s Fortune 500 company. Melva acted scared of her. Leggott wasn’t reliable for any seriously dangerous situations. And Cassidy hadn’t hired anyone in six months because she was too picky.

  A certain amount of self-doubt was healthy. That was what she told herself. But this was never what she set out to do. She’d just wanted to be a detective. Leading an entire department was new to her, but she was determined not to let the people here on this island down.

  It was one of the reasons she was being so picky. She’d carefully examined all the applications that had come in, and almost none of the candidates had been suitable.

  Except maybe today’s interviewee. He showed promise. Dedication. He had experience.

  When she stepped inside the station, a man sitting in one of the plastic chairs in the waiting room rose to his feet and extended his hand. “Chief Chambers?”

  Cassidy quickly studied the man. Tall. Broad. Dark hair cut short and neat. An olive complexion and a friendly smile.

  She returned his smile and stepped forward to shake his hand. “You must be Dane Bradshaw.”

  His handshake was firm and confident. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am” made Cassidy feel so old, when in reality she’d just turned twenty-nine. Dane had to be close to her age.

  “Thanks for coming.” She motioned for him to follow. “Come on into my office. Melva, I’m going to need a few minutes with no interruptions—unless it’s an emergency.”

  Melva nodded in response and continued to knit a baby blanket for a new mom on the island. The woman had gray hair and a plump figure. Even though she was probably in her late-fifties, she gave off an old-fashioned grandmotherly vibe. Maybe it was the knitting and quilting projects Melva was constantly working on during the downtime here at the station that made her seem older than she was.

  Once inside her office, Cassidy closed the door and directed Dane to a seat.

  “How was your drive?” she started, grabbing a pad of paper where she’d jotted down some questions.

  “Uneventful.”

  “Those are the best kind.” She smiled, already liking the man. He had a mild-mannered way about him that probably put people at ease, yet he seemed strong and competent—on first impression, at least. “I’m so glad you could make it out here. You realize just how small a town Lantern Beach is, right? It would be quite a change from Cincinnati.”

  “I’m ready for a change.” He sat up straight and didn’t hesitate with his answer.

  “Why’s that?” What made a person like Dane want to pack up everything and come here?

  Cassidy knew her own personal answer, but she was curious to hear what Dane had to say. Perhaps he was running from something also. Or hiding.

  She sat down behind her desk and focused her full attention on him.

  “It’s always been my dream to live in a beach town,” he said, his hands resting on his legs and his shoulders straight but relaxed. “I love surfing, and I love the laid-back lifestyle. I thought it would be a nice change of pace.”

  “Not as exciting as the big city.” She studied him, watching his expression. The last thing she wanted was to hire someone who couldn’t handle small-town island life. Someone who would pack up after a few months and retreat from this kind of living. She didn’t want to go through this process again any sooner than she had to.

  “I think I’ve had my fill of city life.” He paused, the first sign of apprehension on his face. “Honestly, I was jumped on the way home from work one night by some friends of a guy I put behind bars. I was in the hospital for a week. It made me look at life from a different perspective, I suppose.”

  That made sense. Trauma could spark life changes—the same thought Cassidy had pondered when talking to Trisha Hartman. “I see.”

  Dane shifted. “But I understand you still have some excitement in town. I heard people on the ferry talking on the way here about a body that washed up yesterday.”

  “People here do like to talk. It’s one of the challenges—and blessings—of small-town life.”

  “I think I can handle that. Me and my dog, Ranger.”

  “Ranger?” she questioned.

  “He’s a four-year-old boxer mix—and he’s a police dog. Best drug enforcement officer I’ve ever met, to tell you the truth. He can sniff out illegal substances like no one’s business. We’re kind of a package deal.”

  Cassidy nodded. So far Dane had given good answers. And she liked the idea of having a police dog here in the department, though she would need to check into the legalities of that.

  “If you’re offered the position here, when would you be available to start?” Cassidy asked.

  “As soon as you need me.” Dane shifted. “I resigned from my job in Cincinnati a month ago, and I’ve been trying to figure out where I wanted to go. I packed up everything in my truck and have confidence I’ll figure things out. The chief said he’d give you a reference for me, though. He understood why I needed to leave and why I wanted a change of pace.”

  Cassidy leaned forward, getting ready for the harder questions. The “what-if” scenarios.

  But, based on what she knew so far, she thought she might have found her new officer—or officers, if she included Ranger.

  After the interview was done and Dane had left, Lisa called and told Cassidy she was back in town. They arranged to meet at The Crazy Chefette at 5:30. It worked out perfectly.

  Cassidy was still feeling good about Dane when she pulled up to The Crazy Chefette. She’d promised him she would be in touch before the end of the week, but maybe she’d finally have some more help around here. If her theory about Anthony Gilead was correct, she might need it.

  Her friend’s cheeks looked flushed when Cassidy stepped inside the back door of the restaurant to where the kitchen area was located as well as a stairway leading up to Lisa’s apartment.

  “How did it go? Dress shopping, that is,” Cassidy said, wondering what the new scent in the restaurant was. She smelled something savory. Roast beef, maybe? Either way, her stomach grumbled.

  Lisa grinned as she stood by the wooden staircase with an apron around her waist. “I found the perfect dress. Do you want to see?”

  All of Cassidy’s other pressing concerns disappeared for a second. Her friend was getting married. She didn’t want to miss out on these moments. “Of course. I’d love to.”

  “Come with me.” Lisa grabbed her hand and pulled her up the stairs to her apartment. There, hanging in the doorway, was a beautiful white wedding gown. “What do you think?”

  Cassidy stepped closer as Lisa unzipped the clear bag surrounding it. “Lisa, it’s beautiful. You’re going to be such a gorgeous bride.”

  It was. The gown was pure white, sleeveless, and simple, with layers coming down from the waist. Lisa would be stunning in it.

  Lisa beamed some more. “Thanks, Cassidy. All of this seems surreal.”

  “I can imagine.” Cassidy leaned against the doorframe, grateful for a moment of normalcy. “Speaking of which, how is Braden doing?”

  Cassidy really wanted to hire him before the busy summer season started. She’d hire him now, if she could, but she knew Braden needed more time to heal.

  “He’s doing great. Now that his medications are straight, it’s made a world of difference in him.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” The two seemed so happy together.

  “Me too. Braden is amazing, and I’m so glad we found each other. It’s like people say, it happens when you least expect it.”

  “You guys seem incredibly happy. I’m thrilled for you.”

  Lisa’s smile slipped and she straightened. “As much as I’d love to think this is merely a social call, I know you didn’t stop by just to see my dress.”

&n
bsp; “I didn’t—even though I’m really glad I got to see it.”

  “But you need to see that … that … thing in my freezer. No disrespect to the body. But it’s in my restaurant.” Lisa offered an exaggerated frown. “Any idea how much longer? I’m still afraid word is going to leak about this and people will start thinking I’m going all Fargo here.”

  “You mean, that you’re serving freshly roasted … human. Is that what that smell is?”

  Lisa’s mouth dropped open. “It’s pork tenderloin. You don’t really—”

  Cassidy raised her hand, holding back a smile. “I’m just joking. Sorry. I shouldn’t have gone there.”

  Lisa’s shoulders slumped with relief. “Not funny.”

  “Sorry.” Cassidy shook her head. “Anyway, I know Doc Clemson is having someone come out this week to fix the one at the morgue. But you know how hard it can be to get people out here.”

  Lisa frowned. “Yes, I do. Come on. I’m keeping the freezer locked, just like Doc requested.”

  Back downstairs, Cassidy stepped into the freezer. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the body there. She was a cop. She should be used to seeing things like this. Yet she never did get used to it.

  She pulled on some gloves before unzipping the white bag around the presumed Al Hartman. She bit back disgust at seeing the frozen, dead body with its purplish tint. Working quickly, she looked at the man’s lower abdomen.

  Sure enough, there was a small mark there.

  A mark that was probably made when Al had his appendix out. She doubled-checked behind his ear also and found the birthmark that Trisha had told her about.

  It looked like the deceased really was Al Hartman.

  Tomorrow, Cassidy would talk to his estranged wife and find out more information. Maybe she could piece together how the man had ended up here on the island. How he’d wound up dead with those scars on his back.

  Her phone buzzed just then.

  “Chief, we’ve got a call,” Melva said.

  “What this time?”

  “Eddie Anderson, Louise’s boy, he apparently jumped the fence over at that new Gilead’s Cove community,” she said. “One of his friends dared him. Anyway, he was shot at but managed to get away unscathed. He’s at the station now shaking like a wet dog outside in the winter.”