Gone by Dark (Carolina Moon Book 2)

by Christy Barritt

  For so long, she’d felt like God was a delusion. But then Joshua had talked about how deepening his faith had turned his life around. Daleigh had talked about living with a hope outside of this world. She’d sung about a compassionate God who loved His creations.

  Though Charity, in theory, believed in God, she knew she wasn’t living as one of His followers. Maybe something inside her was starting to change. She desired to change her life, to see beyond her earthly circumstances.

  Just then, Joshua climbed into the car, bringing with him that scent that was becoming all too familiar—leathery aftershave. She could soak in that soothing aroma all day.

  “Sorry you had to sit through that,” he started.

  “It was no problem. How’s Buddy?”

  “I think Buddy is okay,” he started. “The chief doesn’t think I need to take him to the psych ward over in Elizabeth City. His brother is coming over instead.”

  “I could talk to him. I’ve talked people down from the ledge before. I just don’t want to intrude.”

  Joshua shrugged. “I don’t think he had any intention of ending his life. I think he just wanted someone to talk to.”

  “Most people do.”

  He started the cruiser. “Listen, I know we didn’t get that lunch in. How would you feel about me grabbing some sandwiches and going back to Daleigh’s place? There’s something I want to talk to you about. Then I’m going to have to write up a report on Buddy, unfortunately. Visiting Sam Childs will have to wait until later.”

  “Sure thing.” The look in his eyes had Charity curious.

  He had news.

  She wasn’t sure she’d like what Joshua had to say, either.

  Joshua pulled up to the pharmacy and ran inside. He returned ten minutes later with two bags saturated with the scent of toasty bread and gooey cheese. They didn’t say much until they reached Daleigh’s. They walked out to the pier and sat in the chairs there, but neither of them touched the food.

  Anticipation made Charity’s heart beat in her ears, made her throat ache. A million worst-case scenarios raced through Charity’s mind.

  “I didn’t want to tell you this in public. I thought privacy would be better.” Joshua drew in a long breath. “In light of everything that’s happened recently, the chief was able to push through the DNA testing on that hat from your porch. We got the results back today.”

  Charity’s shoulders tensed. She couldn’t decide what news she wanted to hear: that the DNA did or didn’t match Andrea’s. Both would have different consequences on her psyche.

  “Okay,” she managed to croak out.

  Joshua’s eyes bored into her, something unspoken there. He rubbed the back of his neck and let out a small gasp of air. “Charity, the DNA matches Andrea’s.”

  She let out a slight gasp.

  “I know this is probably hard to hear,” he murmured.

  She shook her head, the implications of what he’d said still racing through her head. “Then . . . then Andrea really could still be alive. Maybe I’m not going crazy.”

  ***

  Joshua hated to leave Charity, but the extent of her involvement in this official investigation couldn’t go but so far without crossing professional boundaries.

  Right now he needed to talk to the chief.

  Lynn waved from the filing cabinet when he walked in, and Joshua knew that Isaac was out on another call. He walked toward the chief’s office and started to knock when he heard her voice ringing out on the other side.

  “I understand that, but it’s not best for this town if she’s here. Look at all the trouble that’s been stirred up.”

  Silence stretched as Joshua imagined the person on the other end responded.

  “It won’t matter soon anyway. Everything’s going to change. I hope Joshua understands.”

  He bristled. What was the chief talking about? This was the second suspicious conversation he’d overheard. The chief was definitely hiding something.

  His first instinct was to burst into the office and demand answers. But he had to be careful how he played his hand. In a split-second decision, he decided to hold on to this information and see what else he could find out before tipping off the chief.

  He tapped at the door with his knuckles.

  Silence stretched another moment—or was she whispering?—and finally Chief Rollins called for him to come in.

  “Officer Haven.” Her face was unusually absent of emotion, almost as if she was trying too hard to look innocent. “What can I do for you?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about that DNA.”

  She shook her head slowly, as if in awe. “I couldn’t believe the news either. Sure enough, that hat belonged to Andrea.”

  “So what’s the state of this investigation?”

  She straightened. “It’s back open. I don’t want it on the back burner anymore. Do what you need to to find some answers. This takes priority now. I’m about to call Ron Whitaker and inform him of the news.”

  Just then, her phone rang again. She put her hand over the mouthpiece after she answered and whispered to Joshua, “If you’ll excuse me a moment.”

  Joshua nodded, trying to gather his thoughts. Something was going on with the chief, and he’d really like to know what.

  In the meantime, he retreated to his office and pulled up his computer. As it booted, the questions played in his mind: Could the chief have it in for Charity also? Maybe Ron had brainwashed her with his lies as well. Joshua would need to keep his eyes wide open.

  When his email popped on the screen, Joshua was surprised to see an email from his forensic artist friend Gayle Trent. He clicked on it, his eyes scanning the words there.

  She had an age progression photo ready. She also made a note that she had worked on this photo several years ago.

  So why wasn’t it in the files? Joshua wondered. Something was starting to smell fishier all the time.

  Joshua held his breath as he clicked on the attachment. A moment later, a picture appeared on his screen.

  He froze when he saw the image there.

  It perfectly matched the woman he’d seen in the gas station.

  The woman who’d been in his house.

  It perfectly matched Andrea.

  CHAPTER 29

  Someone cleared her throat behind Joshua. Quickly, he closed the picture file and turned. The woman who’d stopped by earlier in the week stood awkwardly in the doorway. Something about her looked different, he realized. Perhaps it was the fact that her gaze looked haggard, maybe even desperate.

  “I was hoping I might have a moment of your time, Officer Haven.” Her voice was so soft he could barely understand her.

  “Of course.” He directed her to a seat across from his desk. She sat across from him. The woman didn’t appear nervous as she looked at him, but sorrow lined her eyes. “How can I help you?”

  “There’s someone I know. I’m afraid she might be in trouble.” Her voice quivered.

  The woman had Joshua’s full attention now. “Trouble how?”

  “I’m afraid someone is going to hurt her.”

  Joshua shifted, wishing she wouldn’t talk in riddles. Yet he knew the intricacies of domestic abuse situations. Fear usually tarnished the victim’s every emotion, every decision, every word. “Can you be more specific?”

  She closed her eyes, as if gathering her courage. When she pulled her eyelids open, she avoided Joshua’s gaze and instead looked down. “No, not really.”

  “I really want to help, but it’s going to be difficult without more details. Would you like to file a report? Get a restraining order?”

  The woman’s fingers twisted together in her lap. “I’m not sure I can give more details.”

  “What can I do to help, then?”

  “I’m not really sure. He’s growing more unstable, though. He’s acting irrationally . . . again. I fear what might happen.”

  “Who’s growing more unstable?” He could only assume it was her husband or
boyfriend.

  The woman suddenly stood, as if she’d been spooked. “I should go now.”

  “Ma’am?” Joshua called after her. This was why the police force here needed someone on staff like Charity. Victims needed someone to be on their side, and not all of them trusted police officers, for one reason or another.

  She had taken two steps away but paused, hesitantly turning her head toward him. “Yes?”

  “Could I have your name at least?”

  She rubbed her lips together. “You can just call me Jasmine.”

  With that, she left.

  ***

  Charity tossed in bed that night, unable to find rest. She had too much on her mind, and every time she drifted to sleep, images of Andrea haunted her.

  More and more, the evidence seemed to point to the fact that Andrea was alive. Not only that, Charity felt like her friend was here in Hertford and that she was reaching out to her.

  But so much still didn’t make sense.

  Why was her friend still hiding? Why not just come to Charity or the police or her father, even? Wouldn’t that make more sense?

  There was obviously more to this story than Charity understood.

  Her time here was ticking away, and soon she’d have to make some decisions. Could she really go back to Tennessee if she didn’t have any answers? But what about her job? Would she be able to hold on to her position if she stayed in Hertford longer?

  Just then, a strange sound caught her ear. She froze. What was that?

  Maybe Daleigh was awake and getting some water. That was probably it.

  Yet the sound—a subtle creak—seemed like it came from somewhere closer.

  Her room?

  Charity’s skin crawled at the thought.

  No, that was silly. The sound couldn’t have come from so close.

  Then why wouldn’t she pull her eyes open? Why did fear grip her?

  Charity held her breath, listening for something else—anything else.

  Silence crackled.

  She must have been imagining things. Maybe the house was settling. Or maybe a branch from outside had scraped the roof. There was no need for her to overreact.

  All the eerie things that had happened recently messed with her head.

  With that thought in mind, Charity tugged the covers up a little closer around her neck and squeezed her eyes shut. She just needed to get some sleep. A good night’s rest could make everything seem clearer.

  She still had so much to do. She had to finish filing the proper paperwork for the house fire, figure out what to do with the property, and try to rid herself of the spell Joshua seemed to have on her.

  After all, she couldn’t ever stay here. And with his son close by, Joshua couldn’t ever leave. Their relationship was doomed before it even started. Circumstances had thrown them together, but now her emotions were playing with her head.

  Her body went stiff again.

  There was that sound again—a subtle creak.

  Where had it come from?

  Be brave, Charity reminded herself. Fear was only effective in dangerous circumstances, not when it was irrational.

  Right now, her fear was irrational. It was a by-product of her circumstances.

  Lord, I know it’s been a while. But I need You now. More than ever.

  She counted to three and drew in a deep breath.

  Then she opened her eyes.

  Before she had time to scream, a figure wearing a black mask pinned her down. A needle pricked her skin, and then everything went black.

  ***

  First thing the next morning, Joshua went to talk to Sam Childs. Sam was the man—although it was just rumor, as Lucinda had said several times—that Roberta Whitaker was going to leave her husband for. He still lived in the area, and Joshua couldn’t help but think he might know something. It was a possibility worth exploring.

  He pulled up to a newer home in a subdivision built especially for seniors. The area was well kept and on the water—one of the newer additions to Hertford. He found unit number 372B and rang the doorbell. A man who hardly looked old enough to be retired answered.

  He was medium height with a middle-age pooch at his midsection and salt-and-pepper hair, both atop his head and across his chin, cheeks, and upper lip.

  “Sam Childs?”

  The man stared at him cautiously. “Yes?”

  “I’m Joshua Haven with the Hertford police. I was hoping you might have a moment to chat.”

  He stared a moment before nodding crisply. “Come in. I was hoping you might come by. It took you long enough.”

  Joshua’s curiosity sparked. What did that mean?

  The man didn’t offer him a drink or even a place to sit, really. But when Sam lowered himself into a small beige recliner, Joshua took that as a cue and lowered himself into the wooden chair across from him.

  “You’ve been expecting me?” Joshua asked.

  Sam rubbed his beard. “That’s right. You’re here about Roberta, correct?”

  Joshua nodded, more intrigued than ever. “Correct.”

  “I’ve always believed there was something more to her accident. I couldn’t get anyone to believe me, though.”

  Anticipation buzzed through Joshua’s blood at the man’s implication. “Why did you think that the accident wasn’t so accidental?”

  Sam let out another sigh, rubbed his beard one last time, and leaned back. He’d been carrying this burden a long time, Joshua realized.

  “She started looking into Andrea’s disappearance,” Sam said. “She called me and told me she needed to talk to me about something she discovered.”

  “Did she say what she discovered?”

  “No, I just know she was going to meet someone. She was supposed to tell me the other details later. The accident happened before she could do that.” He swung his head back and forth, a certain melancholy washing over him. “I guess I’ll never know.”

  “Mr. Childs, what was the nature of your relationship with Roberta Whitaker?”

  “We wanted to get married. She was going to leave her husband.” His voice caught and he looked away.

  Joshua could see that Sam was struggling, and he softened his voice. “How did the two of you meet?”

  A faint smile feathered the man’s lips. “Believe it or not, we met on a dating website.”

  “You knew she was married?”

  His smile disappeared in an instant and was replaced with a scowl. “She was miserable.”

  “Why?”

  “Ron was never the same after his daughter disappeared. All his negative qualities were amplified. He drank more, worked more, and cheated more. She couldn’t take it anymore. She should have left him years earlier. Maybe this would have never happened if she had.”

  While Joshua let that thought settle, another question came to mind. “Did Ron know that Roberta was leaving him?”

  Sam rubbed his hands against his legs. This was obviously hard for him to talk about. “She’d just told him three days before. He wasn’t happy. He said she couldn’t leave him. They had too much history together, and she was his rock.”

  “Did that sway her?”

  Sam shook his head. “No, she was done and ready to announce to the world that she loved me. She wasn’t afraid to go public with everything she’d been hiding for so many years. On the outside, everyone thought they were a perfect family. But they weren’t. They were as dysfunctional as families come.”

  “How so?”

  “Cheating. With the cheating came fights, distrust, arguments. They tried to protect Andrea from all of that. When she was gone, there was nothing to hold them back. In fact, they blamed each other. Ron blamed Roberta for being at a meeting and unable to pick Andrea up. Roberta blamed Ron for not being able to find her. It was a mess.”

  “What did you mean when you said you could never get anyone to believe you about the accident?”

  “I reported what I knew to the police chief.”

  “Chief
Rollins?”

  Bitterness stained his eyes. “That’s right. She brushed it off. Said my story was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. She didn’t exactly use those words, but I got the message loud and clear.”

  “Did you have any evidence?”

  Sam locked gazes with Joshua. “Roberta told me her husband threatened her. Isn’t that enough?”

  Joshua didn’t bother to tell him no, that wasn’t always enough. The man wasn’t in the right mental state to hear that revelation.

  “But there was more to it. I think the reason Chief Rollins never followed up on my suspicions was because of Ron. She thinks a lot of him. Ron has a lot of people under his belt.”

  “What purpose would it serve to stage a car accident?”

  “Maybe it was the whole ‘If I can’t have you, no one can’ mentality.”

  Joshua had seen it happen before and knew that could be a real possibility. “That does happen.”

  Sam leaned toward him, his gaze still intense. A new emotion appeared in his eyes. Outrage, maybe? Suspicion? Hatred. “The only other possibility was that Roberta discovered something about Andrea’s disappearance that someone didn’t want her to know. Maybe someone killed her for it.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Charity sensed something was wrong, even before she was fully conscious.

  She tried to open her eyes, but they were still so heavy. But something had changed—in her gut she sensed it. The air smelled and even felt different around her. Her mattress didn’t feel soft, but instead lumpy and sharp. And she was unusually hot.

  Pay attention, Charity.

  What else felt different? Something tickled her leg, she realized. What was that?

  And why did it feel like there was a fan blowing on her, gently swaying her hair away from her face?

  Wake up, Charity.

  With a start, she jerked her eyes open. She sucked in a deep breath at what she saw.

  Trees surrounded her. Mosquitoes buzzed around her face. Birds chirped.

  Something tickled her leg again. She glanced at her bare calf and saw a hairy spider creeping across her skin.