Home Before Dark (Christian Romantic Suspense) (Carolina Moon Book 1)

by Christy Barritt

  “Your dad always was a wise man.”

  “What am I going to do without him?” Her voice cracked as the words slipped from her lips.

  Ryan pulled her into his arms. Her head nestled against his chest as he stroked her hair. He tenderly kissed the top of her head.

  He said nothing. There was nothing to say. His presence offered her all the strength and comfort she needed.

  She stepped back. “We should probably go check on that soup.”

  He made no effort to move. Instead, he ran his thumb down her cheek and gently pressed his lips into hers. He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “I guess we should, shouldn’t we?”

  She laced her fingers through his, and they walked back toward the house. Halfway there, Daleigh stopped in her tracks and pointed toward the woods. “Did you see that?”

  “See what?”

  “The moonlight just hit something over there on the edge of the trees. It looked like . . . binoculars.”

  “Are you sure?” He squinted in the distance.

  “There! Did you see it?”

  “I sure did. Let’s put an end to this once and for all.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ryan marched forward a few steps when Daleigh pulled him back. “You can’t go there. You don’t know who you’re facing. You don’t know if they have a gun.”

  “All of this needs to end.”

  Daleigh’s eyes pleaded with him. “Please, I can’t stand the thought of losing someone else.”

  Just then, someone scampered through the underbrush. Daleigh could feel Ryan’s muscles bristle beneath her hand. She knew that, more than anything, he wanted to go after the person who’d been watching them. But if the person hiding had a weapon, Ryan would be a goner. She couldn’t even think about the implications.

  She waited with bated breath to see what he would do. Finally, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the house. “Let’s get you inside. I don’t like this.”

  Inside, Ryan leaned against the kitchen counter. His jaw appeared locked and his muscles rigid. Daleigh knew that he’d wanted to see who’d been hiding in the woods. She simply couldn’t see any positive outcome from the experience, though.

  Ryan’s jaw flexed again. “Okay, let’s talk this through. Who could have motive to kill your dad or want you to be quiet?”

  Daleigh stood across from him and crossed her arms. Her back squeezed with tension, with a touch of fear. Who had been out there? Why? “There’s no one suspect that stands out.”

  “Let’s talk about all of them, then.”

  Daleigh nodded. “Okay, first there was Danny Harris. I’m not sure getting expelled from college is a strong enough motive for murder, though.”

  “I agree.”

  “Then there’s Chuck from the Lunch Box. I guess my father’s study took a different direction than Chuck hoped, which made the man angry. He’s also served some prison time for aggravated assault, so he has a history of violence.”

  “Definite possibility. Maybe there was something else your father discovered about the Lunch Box during his study. Maybe funds were being embezzled or something. I have a hard time thinking publishing the results of a study would lead to murder and all of these threats against you.”

  “Henry mentioned that Thorn Alligood didn’t like my father. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Thorn? He doesn’t like half of the town. I supposed I might have heard something about it, but I didn’t give it much thought. I assumed he didn’t like your father because he was friends with Henry, and Henry is running against him for town mayor.”

  “I heard he has a temper.”

  Ryan nodded. “He does. He . . . loves power and dislikes anything that threatens that power. I don’t know if I can see him killing for it, though. Of course, I hate to think of anyone around here who’d be desperate enough to kill.”

  Daleigh shook her head. “That’s as far as I’ve gotten. At some point, I’ve obviously looked in the right direction, otherwise someone wouldn’t have cut my brakes.”

  “You’ve got that right.”

  “Tell me about this river. Where does it lead?”

  “To the north you reach the Dismal Swamp. Go south and you get to the Albemarle Sound, and then to the Atlantic. It used to be a thoroughfare for the area. The county has a rich history, you know. Hertford was the capital of North Carolina at one time.”

  “So who would use the river at night? Fishermen?”

  He waved his head from side to side uncertainly. “Maybe there are a few people out doing that. I don’t see it causing a steady stream of traffic, though.”

  “Then who else?”

  “Maybe someone doing something illegal and hoping not to get caught.”

  ***

  Daleigh had just walked into her cottage when someone pounded at her door. Her heart sped, but only for a moment. “Daleigh? It’s Hannah. Can I come in?”

  She sighed with relief and pulled the door open. Her relief was short lived, however, when she saw Hannah’s wide eyes and red cheeks as she stormed inside. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick. I heard you were in an accident.”

  Daleigh stepped back and took a deep breath. “I was in an accident, but I’m fine now. I was just hanging out with Ryan for a little while tonight.”

  Her sister’s hands went to her hips. “I’ve been calling Bruce every thirty minutes to see if you’d been brought in to the hospital. Do you know how worried I was?”

  Hannah had been worried? Calling the hospital? Even though Hannah might have a funny way of showing it, she really did care about Daleigh, didn’t she?

  Daleigh leaned against the kitchen counter, praying for wisdom. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I guess I didn’t think. I was in such a state of shock, and Ryan was there. We decided to have dinner and talk through things.”

  Hannah squeezed the skin between her eyes. “What happened?”

  “My brakes went out. I crashed into a ditch beside the river.”

  “Your brakes went out?”

  Last time Daleigh brought it up, Hannah had gone into hysterics. Should she even bother now? How long could she bite her tongue and keep the truth from her sister, though? Tension pulled across her chest, causing a subtle ache there. “Someone tampered with my car, Hannah. It wasn’t an accident.”

  Her sister’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about? Why would someone do that?”

  “Maybe for the same reason that they wanted to hurt Dad?”

  Tears rushed to her sister’s eyes. “I told you not to talk like that. It’s crazy. No one would want to hurt Dad. Everyone loved him.”

  “I agree that Dad was hard to dislike. But something was going on, Hannah, whether you want to believe it or not.”

  Hannah waved her finger in the air. “You’re just starting drama. Aren’t you getting enough attention with your career? Now you’ve got to come to my hometown and stir up things.”

  Her words slapped Daleigh in the face. “I’m not trying to stir up anything, Hannah. I just—”

  “Well, you are! Maybe you should go back to Nashville, Daleigh. You’ve always been good at staying away.” Her sister turned and stomped toward the door, slamming it behind her.

  Daleigh sank onto the couch and cradled her head with her hands.

  The bridge needed to bring Daleigh and Hannah together seemed impossible to repair. Was it even worth trying for anymore? Daleigh wasn’t sure.

  ***

  Daleigh’s head weighed a million pounds the next morning as her fight with Hannah slammed back into her mind.

  Sisters. Why couldn’t she and her sister get along and be best friends just like other women?

  Because, it was like Ryan said, relationships were messy. That’s what made them real. It seemed like most of Daleigh’s relationships didn’t have a chance to get messy because, inevitably, she ended up moving. That had been the case for her entire life.

  Perhaps all of this moving had
set her up with unrealistic expectations of relationships. Perhaps she’d underestimated the amount of work involved in them—not only work, but sacrifice, honesty, growing pains. She’d mastered surface relationships and had uncountable acquaintances and admirers. What she really needed was to get her hands dirty with some deep relationships, though.

  Before Daleigh could even get out of bed, her cell phone rang. She moaned when she saw caller ID. It was Gus, her manager. She’d requested a week off, and that week was almost up. No doubt Vince had returned to Nashville and filled him in on everything that had transpired. Gus, of course, would side with Vince and give Daleigh an earful.

  Begrudgingly, she answered. She tried to sound perky as she said, “Hey, Gus.”

  “Daleigh.” She could hear the frustration in his voice. “What are you doing?”

  “Just waking up. You?”

  “That’s not what I mean. What are you doing with your career?” His voice sounded clipped, tight.

  She sat up in bed, pushing her hair out of her face. “Can you be more specific?”

  He sighed. “I thought you’d be back by now.”

  “I told you I needed a week off. You said that was fine.”

  “I know you need to mourn your father’s death. I know losing someone you love can do terrible things to the soul. We need to channel those emotions right now.”

  She squinted against the early morning sunlight. “What do you mean?”

  “I need you back here and writing songs. We need to record. I’m talking to a music promoter today. He mentioned setting up your tour. It’s going to be a grueling schedule, Daleigh. I’m not going to lie. But I think this could be just what you need to put your career back on track. It could be the final straw in paying your dues.”

  The weight tugging at her heart suddenly felt heavier. “I’m not sure I’m up for another touring schedule like that, Gus. I’m tired. My life is passing me by, and I don’t have any relationships to show for it. I keep thinking that one day I’ll settle down and have a family. I’ve realized that this one day I keep dreaming about is always just a few days out of reach.”

  “You’re not thinking clearly, Daleigh.”

  “I am thinking clearly, Gus. I know it’s not what you want to hear. But my contract is up in a couple of months. I have some serious things to consider. I don’t want to keep running in circles and never going anywhere. My life has been spinning out of control for a long time now.”

  “Do you know how many people would kill to be in your shoes?”

  “These shoes are feeling awfully tight and hard to walk in lately.”

  He didn’t say anything for several minutes. “I need you back here, Daleigh.”

  “I’m still tying up loose ends.”

  “Monday. I need you here Monday. Understand? There’s a reporter who wants to interview you and bring her photographer out. I’ve got a new song I want you to hear. And the president of the label wants to talk to you.”

  “An interview? About what?”

  “They want you to talk about your father’s death.”

  Anger simmered inside of her. “I’m not exploiting my father’s death.”

  “It will show people a hurting side of you. People love to see celebrities getting real. This could be just what your career needs.”

  “My career needed my father to die to bring it back?” Even saying the words brought a bitter taste to her mouth. What kind of world had she gotten mixed up in?

  “Daleigh—”

  “I know you talked to Vince, Gus. I know he ran over the details of our conversation with you and you’re close to a panic now—”

  “I don’t panic—”

  “I can hear it in your voice. Gus, for the first time in my life, I have to think about myself. What good is it to be on magazine covers and to have people recognize you when you walk down the street if you’re miserable? I have to figure some things out.”

  “Monday, Daleigh.”

  “I hear you.” She bit her lip.

  The thought of returning to Nashville and being thrust into that hectic schedule again caused the muscles between Daleigh’s shoulders to tighten. What would she do if she didn’t go back to that old life? Stay in Hertford with her sister? She might as well go back to Nashville.

  “Since I have you on the phone, there’s one more thing I’ve been meaning to tell you. Remember that man who was following you around like a lost puppy dog?”

  Her stalker-fan, the Thin Man. “How can I forget?”

  “Well, he turned his sights on another singer. Actually broke into her home. He’s been arrested and is in jail. I thought you’d want to know.”

  “When was he arrested?”

  “A couple of days ago.”

  “Thanks, Gus.” So the man in the black truck was not her stalker. Who was he then? Her sense of relief was mixed with more questions and confusion over everything.

  No sooner had she hung up with Gus than did her phone ring again. She didn’t recognize the number.

  “Daleigh? This is Patricia. Your father’s graduate assistant.”

  “Patricia. How are you?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I found something. Can we meet?”

  She remembered her car being in the shop, possibly even totaled. Still, she found herself saying, “Yes, of course.”

  The relief was audible in Patricia’s voice. “Great. How about tomorrow for lunch?” She rattled off a place in Elizabeth City. Daleigh agreed and hung up. Just what had Patricia learned? Maybe the answers were finally getting closer.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Daleigh took a long shower, played her guitar for a few minutes, and then decided to walk to a used bookstore she’d seen at the other end of town. Willa had said she worked there part-time. Maybe she could check in with her and see how Trevor was doing. She needed to ask about the benefit concert also, so she could go ahead and get things lined up. She had to find a band and sound equipment, and the organizers would need to start advertising here locally.

  She detoured past Ryan’s garage, taking a longer route. She caught a glimpse of Ryan, busy at work under a car, as she passed. He didn’t even see her. As much as she wanted to stop and say hello, she let him work. She’d see him tonight, after all, when they ate at Henry’s place. Just the thought of spending more time with him caused a smile to stretch across her face. She never thought when she’d come to Hertford to bury her father that life would have taken the best and worst turns. The best was Ryan; the worst was realizing her father’s death was no accident.

  She stepped into the bookstore and spotted Willa behind the desk. A huge smile stretched across the woman’s face as she stood to give Daleigh a hug. “Daleigh! How are you? Trevor hasn’t stopped talking about your visit. You made more than his day—you made his year!”

  “I’m so glad. How’s he doing?”

  “He’s doing great.” She pulled a chair up beside her desk and motioned for Daleigh to sit down before moving a pile of books aside and sitting herself. “Ryan had mentioned that you’re going to do a benefit concert for Trevor. Is that true?”

  Daleigh sat across from her. “It is. He said you have a friend who helps with fundraising who can set up the venue. Ryan mentioned maybe doing it next weekend, if we can pull things together.”

  “We would love to do that—and I bet we could make it happen that quickly. I can’t believe you’d be that generous. Thank you so much.” She shook her head. “I’ll tell you, it’s been tough. Ryan has pretty much cleaned out his savings account in order to help us with medical bills, and he’s worked tirelessly to help us raise money. Every little bit helps, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes the task just seems overwhelming.”

  Daleigh’s heart warmed when she realized all that Ryan had sacrificed for his family. Could she be that generous? Despite popular opinion, she wasn’t rich or even close to it. She earned enough to make a living and afford a
n apartment in Nashville. She could manage paying a band for the concert—if they didn’t volunteer to play for free. Still, there was the transportation issue. How would she get them out here? She’d figure it out, one way or another.

  “It’s my pleasure to do whatever I can to help, Willa.”

  “What can I ever do to repay you?”

  “Ryan was telling us at The Bulkhead on Sunday that you make a mean pimento cheese sandwich.”

  Willa smiled. “I’ll make you all the pimento cheese sandwiches you want.”

  Daleigh laughed. “That sounds perfect.”

  They chatted a few more minutes before another customer came in, and Daleigh slipped out the front door. Just as she stepped out, she nearly walked right into someone. Thorn Alligood.

  “Mr. Alligood.”

  The man narrowed his eyes at her. His hand dropped. Had he been reaching for the door to the bookstore?

  He stared at her. “Yes?”

  “I’m Daleigh McDermott.” She extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  His face softened, but only for a moment. “Nice to meet you, Ms. McDermott. Now if you’ll excuse—” His path changed course, and he started down the sidewalk again. Daleigh needed to keep him talking.

  “Someone said I needed to speak with you about using the city park for a concert.”

  He stopped and scowled again. “You’ll have to take it up with someone in my office. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” He started to take another step.

  “I’m hoping to use it next Saturday. Will that be a problem?”

  “Ms. McDermott, you’re about as persistent as your father. It’s as I said. You’ll have to go to my office and talk with someone there. I don’t handle those matters myself.”

  “You really didn’t like my father, did you?” Protectiveness welled in her. Did this man have it out for her dad? Did Thorn dislike her dad enough to kill him?

  His scowl deepened. He glanced back at the bookstore one more time before bringing his hands to his hips. “I thought he asked too many questions. Just like you, apparently. Now if you’ll excuse me.”