As they rounded a bend in the road, the truck had disappeared. An empty street stared back at them. It was like the vehicle had vanished into thin air.
“Where did it go?” Madelyn whispered.
“I suppose the driver could have gone down any of these roads.” He pointed to three different streets that branched from the main one. Each one was surrounded by trees, and it was impossible to see very far down them.
She bit back a frown. Until she knew who was behind the attacks on her, she wouldn’t feel safe.
Just then, the chief’s radio crackled. Zach spoke into a mouthpiece on his shoulder, but Madelyn couldn’t make out everything being said. The next instant, he did a U-turn.
“Someone just reported that the back door to my house is open,” he said. “I’m going to swing by my place and make sure everything is okay.”
“Sure thing.”
They cruised down the country road and, a few minutes later, pulled up to a tiny bungalow on the edge of the water. “Excuse me one minute.”
Zach slipped inside his house.
Madelyn paced outside, trying to keep her thoughts focused. She observed his house for a moment. It was more of a cinder block cottage, really. Pale yellow siding and a neat white porch greeted visitors. There was an American flag waving in the breeze in the front yard.
It didn’t look like the home of someone with nefarious intentions.
She let out a sigh, frustrated with herself. Why was she going back and forth so much about the chief? One minute she couldn’t stand him and the next she was sure he was innocent. She needed to stick with her convictions.
When Zach didn’t come out after several minutes, her interest spiked. Out of curiosity, she walked around to the back door to see what was going on.
The door was closed, and she didn’t see any damage outside. Perhaps the wind had just blown the door open. That didn’t explain why Zach was still inside.
Before Madelyn could second-guess herself, she stepped onto the back deck and peered in through the glass portion of the back door to make sure he was okay. What she saw there made her freeze.
Chief Davis stood at the kitchen counter surrounded by blood.
* * *
Zach stared at the blood spread across his kitchen counter. There was a lot of it. It pooled around the sink and dripped onto the floor. Parts were smeared, other parts spattered. All of it painted a grisly picture of...murder.
What in the world had happened? How had this gotten here, in his house? Zach had only been gone a few hours.
His stomach clenched. Someone had been here. They’d left this for him to see. They’d left it for a reason, to make a statement.
This was just one of many messages someone had been trying to send Zach. Did they want to run him out of town? To damage his reputation? Both?
Even more concerning to him than that was the reality of this blood. Had it come from a human? If so, where was this person right now?
Could he or she be somewhere in his home?
Behind him, someone drew in a quick breath. Zach swung around and spotted Madelyn standing there, a horrified expression on her face as she stared at the scene in front of her.
The conclusions she must be drawing were similar to his. Except for one thing: Zach knew he had nothing to do with this. Madelyn did not.
“This isn’t what it looks like.” He pulled his eyes away from Madelyn and absorbed the scene again. Cheerful sunlight streamed through the window, betraying the truth about the atrocity that had happened here. One way or another, a crime had been committed here. He just wasn’t sure about the extent of it yet.
Madelyn took a step back. “What have you done?”
He raised his hand, trying to calm her. When he saw the blood on his own fingers, he realized just how guilty he looked. This was worse than he’d imagined.
“Madelyn, I didn’t do anything,” he told her. “It looked like this when I walked in here.”
Her eyes were wide and full of fear and doubt. “Why should I believe you?”
“Why wouldn’t you believe me? You think if I did this that I would bring you back here to see it? What purpose would that serve?” He hoped his attempt to reason with her would work.
“I’m not sure. It sounds like something a psycho might get his kicks out of.”
She had a point.
“I didn’t do this,” he repeated. “I value life.”
Madelyn’s gaze softened. Maybe his words had gotten through to her. She licked her lips, as if still reserving her judgment.
“Where’d the blood come from?” Her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear her. She pulled her hand up over her mouth and stared at the crimson behind him. Part of it dripped on the floor, forming a pool on the tile. Another area had been smeared across part of his back door.
“I’m not sure where it came from,” he told her. “I need you to wait here while I check out the rest of the house and make sure there’s nothing else I need to know about. Don’t touch anything. Do you understand? This is now a crime scene.”
She crossed her arms but nodded. Taking a step back, her gaze seemed riveted on the horror around her. It was enough to shake anyone up.
Moving carefully through the house, Zach checked every room. Each appeared untouched. The only sign that someone had been in here was that blood on his kitchen counter, sink and back door.
But that didn’t make sense. If someone was injured in his house, the blood pattern would have been different. It would tell a story of struggle and fighting.
Instead, this blood almost looked like it had been placed there.
Had someone known that Madelyn was with him? Had that person planted this blood, left the door open and then called dispatch in order to ensure that Madelyn saw it?
The only reason he could think that someone would do this was to raise suspicions about him. Was that why they sent that text with his name attached also? To make him look bad?
His fears surged closer to the surface. Initially, he’d thought that maybe one of the locals wanted to run him out of town. They wanted one of their own to be the chief instead of an outsider. That would explain his slashed tires, the broken pottery and the dead fish.
But what if one of the people from Baltimore who hated him, who thought he was guilty of taking someone’s life, knew he was here and wanted to make him pay for the crime he had supposedly committed? What if they believed in an eye for an eye? Since Zach had taken a person’s life in the drug bust, what if someone wanted to take his? Was this just a warning of what was to come?
Or a third theory came to mind. What if someone here knew his true reasons for coming into town? What if this person knew he was investigating Waterman’s Reach as the potential drop spot for an international drug ring? Raking his name through the mud would be a surefire way of getting him out of town and ceasing his investigation.
When Zach came back into the kitchen, Madelyn was standing over the counter, peering at the blood. He still needed to take pictures, to document everything before it was compromised.
“Don’t touch anything,” he instructed her again.
“I wasn’t going to,” she said, an edge to her voice. She stepped back, her hands in the air. “Did you find something?”
Zach shook his head, trying to piece together what might have happened, as he walked toward the front door. “No, nothing. I don’t know what kind of stunt someone is trying to pull here, but I’m not amused. I need you to wait in the car.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’ve got to take photos, as well as collect some samples, dust for fingerprints, search for a sign of how someone got inside. If something happened in my home, I need to find out what.”
The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if the blood was eve
n human.
One thing he knew for sure: something was fishy. And there was no way he was going to let his investigation be compromised. No way.
SEVEN
Zach pulled to a stop in front of Madelyn’s apartment and put his cruiser in Park. He’d collected all of his evidence, dropped it by the office and now he needed to head back there and process everything.
“Sorry today was a bit unexpected,” he started.
Of all the days that Madelyn was tagging along with him, it had to be today. When news of this got back to the mayor, he wouldn’t be happy.
But Zach had bigger issues at hand right now.
“I hope you get everything figured out,” she said before climbing out and disappearing inside her apartment.
Madelyn still looked freaked out, like a seed of doubt had been planted in her mind concerning his innocence. Someone was working hard to make sure that was the case.
Someone had also attempted to make sure Baltimore looked like his blunder. Whether it was his fault or not, the guilt of what had happened there still haunted him every day. The gang members had been waiting for officers to arrive. When they had shown up, it was open season. Two officers had been shot and killed.
He’d had no choice but to fire back on the gang, hitting one of the members and killing him.
Though he’d been legally acquitted of all wrongdoing, the trial by the public had been hard to recover from. He’d stepped down from his job, knowing it was best for the department and overall morale within local enforcement, as each of their moves had been scrutinized.
It would be best if you got out of town.
He remembered Julia’s words. His ex-fiancée had turned on him and decided that looking out for her own interests would be best for both of them. Apparently, she was having trouble in her social circles since her name was connected with his.
Eventually, she’d decided to use the whole situation to her advantage. She’d grabbed up her fifteen minutes of fame, going on both local news stations and eventually working her way up to a few national reports, as well. Why hadn’t he been able to see through her sooner? He’d had no idea that she’d drop her loyalty toward him so easily. He’d been willing to spend the rest of his life with her.
Maybe it was a good thing that God had allowed the situation to show Julia’s true colors before they tied the knot.
But her sting of betrayal still hurt.
He sighed and thought about everything that had transpired over the past couple of days. What a bad time for the plucky reporter to be in town and to be doing a ride along. He still didn’t quite trust the woman. He felt certain she was hiding something. But what?
And what was the big deal about that white truck they’d seen earlier?
There were many things that didn’t make sense. He needed to remain on guard around her. He’d staked everything on being here. Months of research. Sleepless nights. The heroin that had been central in the drug ring up in Baltimore was somehow connected with Waterman’s Reach. Someone here was involved in smuggling it in from overseas and then transporting it up the coast.
He was still trying to pinpoint who and where. Most of his free time was spent watching the coast, wandering the docks and talking to local fisherman who might have a clue.
Of course, no one here would betray another local. Their loyalty went deep, and they would refuse to snitch, so he could only hope that someone would slip up and spill something they intended to keep quiet.
Just then, in the distance, Zach saw that white pickup truck again—the one that Madelyn had pointed out earlier. Interesting. Was it really following Madelyn? Was the driver somehow connected with the incident in the woods, the attack on her first night here and locking her in the shed yesterday?
It was his best lead.
Zach straightened and watched the vehicle. The driver moved slowly, almost as if he were looking for someone. He went down Main Street, headed toward Madelyn’s apartment. Just as Madelyn had said, the windows were tinted and there was a dent in the front bumper. Even the license plate appeared to be covered with mud, so much that he couldn’t make out what state the plates were from. Virginia or Maryland?
Zach started the car, ready to follow the truck. He’d just put the car in Drive when Madelyn came running outside.
“Someone’s been in my apartment,” she said, her voice breathless.
Yes, something was definitely going on since she’d arrived.
As if to confirm his realization, a gunshot rang out.
“Get down!” he shouted.
Zach leaped from the car. He ran toward Madelyn, desperate to protect her. She turned around, almost as if in slow motion. The expression on her face went from confusion to horror as she realized what was happening.
He only hoped he reached her before it was too late.
* * *
Madelyn’s heart slammed into her ribcage as gunfire pierced the air. The next thing she knew, Zach flew from the car and pushed her to the ground. She was all too aware of him hovering over her, his broad frame covering her.
“Stay down,” he mumbled.
Her muscles tightened at his nearness, at his willingness to protect her. They hardly knew each other.
He was just doing his job, she reminded herself. It wasn’t like he cared about her. Criminal, she reminded herself. He was a criminal.
Another gunshot cracked through the air, sending her heart skittering into overtime. This wasn’t good. No, this was not good at all.
“It’s going to be okay,” Zach muttered into her ear.
Her blood warmed at his assurances.
“I need to get you behind my police cruiser. Okay?”
Move? He wanted her to move? She preferred to stay safe right where she was, at least until the danger had passed. But she’d have to trust Zach’s judgment here. She nodded, but her trembling hands certainly gave away her fear.
“On the count of three,” Zach said. “One, two, three!”
With Zach’s help, Madelyn pulled herself from the ground. It was only five steps to reach the cruiser, but those steps felt like a mile. She pressed herself against the side of the car as Zach drew his gun and peered over the hood, searching for the shooter.
Just as he did, another bullet pierced the air.
Someone was shooting at them in broad daylight. That had to signal some type of desperation. The risk they were taking, their chances of being spotted and identified, increased exponentially without the cover of darkness.
All of this was too much—too much to comprehend, to piece together, to make sense of.
A car squealed off in the distance and finally Zach turned to her, assessing her with his gaze. “Are you okay?”
His eyes were full of concern, so much so that her skin pricked with awareness. She looked away from him before he could see her flush, concentrating instead on wiping the dirt from her pants. “I think I’m fine. You?”
He nodded, pulling his gaze from her and glancing around. “I’m going to have to check out your apartment in a minute. For now, I need you to get in the car.”
She didn’t argue. She climbed in. But her hands were shaking as she pulled on her seat belt.
Everything that had happened had shaken her, and for good reason. Was someone trying to kill her? Or just scare her out of town? At first, she wanted to think it was the chief. But obviously he wasn’t responsible this time.
Her first thought was the white truck. Is that where the bullets had come from?
Zach pulled onto the street and turned on his lights. He flew through town, headed in the direction of his house.
“Where are we going?” She gripped the armrest.
“We’re following the shooter.”
Her eyes widened. “You saw him?”
; “I saw a white truck. I need to find out where it went.”
She gripped the seat and held on as his speed increased. As he drove, he radioed Lynn and told her to send Tyler to the shooting scene.
That white truck was connected to this, Madelyn realized. Thank goodness the chief had been there. Otherwise, she might be dead.
She glanced at him now. His eyes were focused on the road. His jaw muscles looked tight. His grip on the steering wheel showed white knuckles. Yet he seemed in control and measured.
Not like the kind of person who lost his head and shot someone or incited violence or was secretly involved in a drug ring.
He turned onto a side street, the one the truck had disappeared on earlier. The road before them was empty. Zach tried the first street they came to. He sped down the wooded road, looking for the truck.
He searched the next three streets, but the truck was nowhere to be seen.
Finally, Zach pulled up to his house, put the cruiser in Park and sat silently.
Fear shot through her. She remembered the blood on his counter. Remembered the possibility that he was a killer. And all she wanted to do was run.
“What kind of game are you playing, Madelyn?” Zach’s voice sounded deep and accusatory.
She’d known this was a good possibility. The man was obviously perceptive. How was she going to get out of this? Would she be able to convince him that she was writing a travel article? Her doubts taunted her.
Madelyn snapped her head toward Zach. “Excuse me?”
His gaze narrowed. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing. What are you talking about?” Her voice trembled and betrayed her.
“Any idea why someone would be shooting at you? In broad daylight at that.”
Her throat suddenly felt dry. “Are you sure they weren’t shooting at you?”
“That bullet was aimed at you. Thankfully, this person wasn’t a good shot, otherwise you’d be, at best, in the hospital right now.”
She didn’t ask where she’d be at worst. She already knew: she’d be dead.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” he prodded.
Dark Harbor Page 6