Daleigh sucked in a breath, trying to choose her words carefully. The last thing she wanted was to traumatize her nieces. “Someone just tried to make us . . . go swimming when we didn’t want to.”
Clara’s lip stuck out. “That’s not very nice.”
Daleigh shook her head. “You’re right. It’s not.”
Hannah opened her mouth but shut it again, before finally saying, “So you have no idea who tried to . . . make you go swimming?”
“Whoever it was made every effort to disguise himself so we wouldn’t recognize him,” Daleigh said. Was it because he was someone they knew? The realization occurred to Daleigh and she sucked in a breath.
Clara gasped again, her little hand with the pink fingernails fluttering over her open mouth. “Disguise himself? Like on Scooby Doo?”
Daleigh swallowed hard. “Kind of, only they weren’t quite as clever.”
Her adorable niece shook her head. “Why would someone do that, Aunt Daleigh?”
Daleigh glanced at Hannah. “I think this Scooby Doo villain is the same bad guy who’s behind some other incidents in the area. Incidents where other people have been forced to go swimming.” She stared at her sister, hoping she’d get the message of: The same person who killed Dad.
Hannah’s eyes lit with emotion. “You haven’t been poking your nose around, have you? I told you there’s nothing suspicious going on.” She glanced back at her girls. “No one is trying to make anyone go swimming. Not now. Not ever.”
“If no one is forcing people to go swimming, why is—” Daleigh paused, trying to find the right euphemism. “Why is someone trying to teach me to hold my breath under water when I don’t want to?”
“You’re reading too much into things. It could all just be a crazy coincidence. No one forced Dad into the water!” Tears overflowed down Hannah’s cheeks and instead of the usual anger Daleigh felt toward her sister, compassion stirred inside. Hannah was just as hurting and sad as Daleigh, even if she had a weird way of showing it.
Clara tugged at Hannah’s shirt. “Are you okay, Mommy?”
Hannah ignored her daughter’s question. Instead, her gaze landed on Ryan. “Why didn’t you try to stop her? Why did you let her continue on with her crazy ideas? She could have, she could have . . . gotten the bends, for goodness sakes!”
Anger replaced Daleigh’s empathy. “Leave Ryan out of this. If I get the bends, it’s all my own fault.”
“No, Daleigh, I’m a part of this, no matter which way you look at it.” The unwavering resonance of Ryan’s voice sent ripples through Daleigh. “And Hannah, you’ve got to realize that your sister is her own person and that no amount of badgering or condemning will make her into the person you want her to be.”
The truth of his statement silenced everyone. Hannah shot daggers toward Ryan, then Daleigh. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the doctor pushed into the room.
“It looks like you’re going to be fine, Daleigh. It’s just a rotator cuff injury, nothing too serious. Take some of those pain killers whenever you need them, and call us if any complications arise.”
A deeper question burned in her mind. She rubbed her shoulder. “Playing the guitar . . . will that be a problem?”
The doctor, an elderly man with thin features, patted her hand. “You’ll be fine. Back to making that beautiful music in no time. If I understand what you’ve been telling me correctly, you’re lucky your shoulder is the only thing hurt.”
Daleigh nodded. “You’re right. I am.”
He glanced at Ryan and nodded. “The police are waiting outside to take a statement. Is it okay if I send them in?”
Daleigh pulled her gown closer to her neck. “That’s fine.”
She glanced at Hannah and studied her sister’s upturned nose and raised chin. Invisible fumes huffed from her ears. As if she noticed Daleigh’s gaze, Hannah turned narrowed eyes to her.
“I’ll be going.” She grabbed her girls’ hands and took a step away.
As they stepped out of the room, Daleigh heard Clara say, “Mommy, I don’t think I want to go swimming again for a while.”
If Hannah could have slammed the door, Daleigh felt for sure she would have. But as it was, she flipped aside the curtain and stomped away. Daleigh already felt so weary from the accident and everything that it implied, that her sister’s outburst only exhausted her further. She leaned back into the bed.
She glanced over at Ryan. He looked as tired as she felt. But the bold set of his jaw, the unflinching steadiness of his gaze, said more than words. Clearly, he was upset, though Daleigh didn’t know if it was over the hit-and-run or Hannah or both. She wished she could find out, that she could have a moment with him alone. Instead, she squeezed his hand. His smile looked forced.
A short, stocky Elizabeth City police officer with a mushroom-like nose walked into the room. He offered a curt nod toward both Daleigh and Ryan. “It sounds like the two of you have had quite the harrowing day. Would you mind telling me what happened?”
Daleigh and Ryan took turns piecing together the story. With his pad in hand, the officer took notes and grunted, asking appropriate questions when they didn’t give enough details.
He paused when they finished. “Any idea why someone would want to hurt you?”
“There are some mysterious circumstances surrounding my father’s death,” she started. The officer raised an eyebrow, and Daleigh continued to share with him about the missing journals and the break in. When she finished, Daleigh held her breath, anxious for his response. Ryan squeezed her hand, as if reading her thoughts.
“So you think someone is trying to keep you quiet with all your theories?” the officer asked.
Daleigh nodded.
“Have you shared your theories with very many people?”
“Only a few.”
“Why don’t you make me a list of who those people are? They’ll be the first ones I check out.”
Daleigh felt apprehension knotting itself in her shoulders. “It’s not that simple. Really the only ones I’ve mentioned it to are my family and my father’s friends.”
“Oftentimes, crimes are committed by someone you’re close to.”
The words caused a sick feeling to settle in her gut. It couldn’t have been someone Dad trusted who killed him. The thought made her head swirl. Nothing was worse than betrayal from someone you trusted. Nothing.
“I’ll talk to Chief Rollins about the case, see if I can find out anything for you. I’ll also check with some repair shops to see if anyone’s brought a boat in. It sounds like the other boat may have nicked you and maybe it was damaged in the process.” He handed her a card. “In the meantime, give me a call if you need anything.”
***
Thankfully, Hannah had stuck around in the waiting room to give them a ride home. Daleigh had changed into some leftover clothes from the hospital. Her hair, still reeking of the river, was at least dry.
The trip was silent. Daleigh’s shoulder throbbed, and she feared how this would affect her guitar playing, though the doctor assured her it would be fine. Things like this could ruin a musician’s career, though. She was lucky things hadn’t been worse.
Daleigh’s gaze wandered to the fields of new crops they passed. How had her life been turned so upside down?
They pulled into the driveway and thunder clapped overhead. Wordlessly, Hannah ran toward her house, and Ryan and Daleigh to the guest cottage. As soon as Daleigh closed the door to her home, rain burst from the sky outside.
Ryan pulled her into his arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so afraid I was going to lose you.” He pulled back and cradled her head with his hands. “You doing okay?”
She nodded, but the reality of how close they’d come to dying hit her at full force. “Whoever plowed into us on the river is the same one who killed my father. I just know it.”
He rocked her in his arms. “The authorities are out searching for them right now. They’ll be caught and this whole
ordeal will be over.”
The thought of everything being resolved brought a measure of relief to Daleigh. It would be so nice to put this all behind her.
Ryan stepped back. “Why don’t you go take a shower and get cleaned up? It will make you feel better. I’ll wait on the couch.”
Daleigh nodded, glad Ryan decided to stick around. He’d managed a shower at the hospital and Bruce had let him borrow some old jeans and a sweatshirt. She hadn’t fared quite as well.
After carefully wrapping her bandage with a bag, just as the doctor had instructed, she washed the grime from the river out of her hair, moving slowly with her sore shoulder.
Someone wouldn’t get away with this. If they thought they could threaten her, they were in for a surprise. With new resolve, she dried off, wiping her tears and vowing not to give up.
Daleigh put on some yoga pants and a T-shirt, each movement reminding her of her aching body. Thunder rumbled as she stepped from the steaming bathroom. Lightning lit the sky and the lights flickered.
Ryan’s head was propped on the back of the couch, his eyes closed. A smile tugged at Daleigh’s lips. She should have insisted he go home. The day had no doubt been a strain on him. She grabbed a throw from a chair and placed it over him.
Thunder rumbled again as she tucked the edge around his arm. His eyes fluttered open and locked with hers. He grabbed her hand and pulled Daleigh down beside him.
“You okay?” he whispered.
Daleigh simply nodded into his chest. The lights blinked again before completely going black. Daleigh snuggled closer to Ryan, drawing on his strength, wondering how she could ever leave him on Sunday. Speaking of which . . . she hadn’t even told him yet. How would he take the news? Surely, he knew she couldn’t stay here forever, no matter how tempting it might be.
Someone pounded at the door. Daleigh sat up, alertness pulsing through her veins.
“Stay here. I’ll get it.” Ryan rose and strode to the door. He yanked it open.
“Who are you? Where’s Daleigh?” a deep voice asked.
Daleigh stood, recognizing the voice. She hurried to Ryan’s side and looped her arm through his. Dread pooled in her gut when her realization proved true. “Vince. I thought you went home.”
Vince ignored Ryan and stood in front of her. “I had to come back and see you.”
She stepped away from his touch. “Why?”
“I got back to Nashville and realized I was a fool leaving here as easy as I did. You mean the world to me. Give me another chance.”
The blood drained from Daleigh’s face. This couldn’t be happening. She knew it had been too easy when she broke things off with him.
“Vince, you can’t be serious.”
“We’re meant for each other, Daleigh. I can’t imagine being back in Nashville and not having you at my side. I know things have been rough lately, but we can work on it. Don’t give up yet. Don’t give up your career for . . .” He glanced over her shoulder. “For a mechanic.”
Her spine straightened as indignation rushed through her. “Vince, you have no right to barge in here like this.”
“I’m fighting for you and your career, Daleigh. We need to have some serious talks.”
Daleigh glanced over his shoulder and saw Ryan retrieving his jacket. She felt torn in two. “Ryan, don’t go—”
His gaze met hers and Daleigh saw pain in his eyes. “I’ll let the two of you talk.”
Before she could say anything else, Ryan slipped out the door. Grief clutched her heart. What was happening?
Vince turned her chin back toward him. “Let him go, Daleigh. We’re meant to be together. You know it just as well as I do.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Daleigh turned over in bed and rubbed her eyes, carefully rotating her sore shoulder to get the kinks out. She’d tossed and turned all night, her arm aching and a myriad of thoughts torturing her subconscious.
The confrontation with Vince last night. Ryan leaving. The hit-and-run on the river. The fact her sister wasn’t speaking to her. Vince’s proclamation that her career was going down the drain.
She pressed her head harder into the pillow. Maybe she would just stay here all day, avoid the world, pretend reality didn’t exist. It seemed a good option. The only problem was that reality did exist.
With hesitation, Daleigh threw the covers back and crawled out of bed. A glance at the clock told her it was already noon. Moments later, coffee percolated, its aroma calming her anxious spirit. She wrapped her fingers around a mug and stared out the window at the blue river stretching before her.
I’ve lost Vince, Ryan, possibly my career. The one member of my family who’s still alive isn’t speaking to me. Sadness pressed in on her.
She recalled the conversation with Vince last night, when she told him it would never work out between them. He said she’d be nothing without him. That he wouldn’t produce her songs any longer. That she’d be on her own. That her manager was going with him, leaving her because she’d been making bad choices.
For a moment—and just a moment—she’d second-guessed herself. Then she’d told Vince that she’d be just fine without his help. He stormed out, and Daleigh tried to call Ryan to explain everything. He didn’t answer, despite the messages she left.
Just the thought of Ryan caused heaviness to press on her chest. A definite wall existed between them. What would it take to tear it down? Could it be torn down or was the damage irreparable? She knew he didn’t want to stand in the way of her career. He pulled away every time Vince came around. Did he also wonder if she still had feelings for Vince?
An even bigger question lingered. How had Vince known about Ryan? How had Vince known he was a mechanic?
There was only one answer Daleigh could come up with.
Hannah.
Had her sister sold her out? Had she told Vince what Daleigh had been up to? How could she?
Daleigh threw some clothes on and stormed across the lawn to her sister’s house. Hannah opened the door on the first knock, a dish towel draped over her shoulder and surprise etched across her face. Before she could say anything, Daleigh blurted, “You talked to Vince, didn’t you?”
She blinked, as if composing herself for a moment. “What are you talking about, Daleigh? And, please, put some makeup on. You look like death.”
Daleigh raised a finger. “You called Vince. Tell me it’s not true.”
Her sister shrugged. “We may have talked.”
“How could you? What have I ever done for you to think you have the right to treat me this way?”
“You’re not only killing your career, you’re practically killing yourself while on this ridiculous investigation. Someone needed to talk some sense into you before you lose everything. You’re obviously not going to talk to me.”
“You hate country music.” Daleigh sliced her hand through the air. “Why do you care about my career? All you do is complain that I never see you enough because I’m on tour!”
Hannah seethed, her shoulders rising and her eyes narrowing as she muttered, “I’m just trying to look out for you.”
“You have a strange way of showing it. All I really want is for you to be my friend, Hannah. Not a dictator. Not a judge. Not a mother hen. A friend. Is that too much to ask?”
Her sister stared at her a moment without saying anything. “I only want what’s best for you.” She said the words so quietly that Daleigh hardly heard her.
“Letting me be my own person is what’s best for me.”
Hannah let out a quick sigh and shook her head as tears glistened in her eyes. She stared off in the distance, her chin jutting out and her breathing coming fast. “You’re like the Prodigal Son, you know. I’m left here to be the responsible one while you go chasing flights of fancy. Yet whenever you finally came home, Dad treated you like a princess, forgetting that I’d been there for him the whole time.”
Daleigh’s heart twisted, first with grief, then regret . . . and finally anger at
Hannah’s implications. “I haven’t gone out and squandered my life, Hannah. I’ve done the opposite, I’d like to say.”
Hannah frowned. “No, I guess I’m the one who’s squandered my life.” She stepped inside and closed the door.
Daleigh replayed their conversation, each remembrance of their verbal exchange causing emotions to punch her heart even harder. Was that really how Hannah felt? Like she’d drawn the short straw and been forced to be the responsible one? Was that at the root of all of their issues?
Daleigh wrapped her arms around herself and headed back to the cottage. She wasn’t sure it was even possible to save her relationship with her sister. Maybe too many years of hard feelings had made the future impossible to change.
***
Ryan only picked at the pot roast in front of him. He stared out the window, wondering if Daleigh would walk by the Have a Nice Day Café. Wondering if he should fight for her or if he should just let the pieces fall as they may.
He’d camped out in his truck outside her house last night, just to make sure she was okay. Someone wanted her silenced, and he wasn’t sure how far they’d take it. This morning, he’d made a couple of calls to boat repair shops in the area, hoping to hear if anyone had brought in a damaged watercraft. So far, no, but Ryan had gotten a couple of promises that people would call him if they heard anything.
More than anything, he wanted Daleigh to be safe.
He frowned at the thought of everything that had happened. He frowned at the thought of Daleigh and how life had changed in the brief period of time since they’d met.
Daleigh wasn’t interested in staying here in Hertford. She’d have to give up her record contract to do it, and he couldn’t let that happen. He’d known from the start that this little fling would go nowhere. But something about Daleigh kept drawing him to her.
He should at least talk to her. Should explain why he was giving her space. Explain that he could never give her the life that Vince Torres would. Explain that he had no desire to live in Nashville, that he needed to be close to Trevor, and that he was happy with his simple life here.
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