Dark Harbor

“Someone shot at me.”

Her pulse spiked. This was worse than she imagined. “Did you catch him?”

Zach shook his head. “No. He got away, thanks to a train passing through. But I have the bullet and I plan to run ballistics on it.”

“I’m glad...you’re okay.” Where had that come from? Zach Davis was possibly a bad cop, someone who deserved to be locked up. She shouldn’t be wishing the best for him.

“I can only assume it was a hunter trying to scare me away. I can’t think of any other explanation. Can you?” He challenged her with his gaze.

Her cheeks heated, and she shook her head. Great. He already suspects me. “I still have no idea why I was followed.”

His accusatory gaze remained on her another moment before he finally looked away. “I guess we should get you into town, so I can get back to the office and process this.”

She swallowed hard. “That sounds like a great idea.”

Zach grabbed her suitcase and placed it in the trunk before they both climbed into his police cruiser. The car was neat with a leathery scent. Madelyn tried to settle back into the vehicle and not give any signals that she knew who Zach Davis really was. But it was hard to hide her nervous energy. She wanted to tap her foot, to play with her hair, to do uncountable things that could clue Zach in that she was on edge.

“Sorry about your arrival in town.” Zach headed back down the service road, his arm slung across the seat as he peered out the back glass.

“These things happen, I suppose. Just not usually to me.”

He offered an apologetic smile and pulled out onto the side street. “So, you’re writing a tourism piece?”

Madelyn nodded, realizing he was just making polite conversation. She had to chill out if she didn’t want to raise suspicions. “That’s right. I’m with East Coast International. You ever heard of it?”

“Sounds vaguely familiar. I don’t read too many regional magazines, however.” He glanced at her as the miles began to blur past. “Have you written a lot of travel articles?”

“I’ve done my fair share.” It was almost all she’d done, truth be told. But she longed for more. To do articles that made a difference. She wanted to be a voice of change, someone who could help the helpless, who brought justice to those who deserved it.

They were lofty goals. But she held tight to them.

“Why Waterman’s Reach?” Zach asked.

She shrugged, trying to remain calm. “The town seemed like an undiscovered treasure. That’s what I like. Anyone can write about Myrtle Beach or Williamsburg or the popular tourist spots. I want to show the places off the beaten path.”

“Well, you’ve definitely got the undiscovered part down being in Waterman’s Reach.”

She glanced at him. It was hard for her to comprehend that the very man she’d done so much research on was here now. She was riding with him. Close enough to touch. A hint of thrill, as well as fear, spread through her.

She cleared her throat. “How about you? How long have you been here?”

Was it her imagination or did Zach’s gaze darken at her question?

“A few months.” He didn’t offer any more details.

“So you’re not a local.” She tried to sound surprised. “I always imagined a town like Waterman’s Reach to be the kind where jobs like police chief were handed down generationally.”

He smiled softly, maybe sadly. “No, I’m an outsider, which has brought some challenges of its own. In fact, the prior police chief’s nephew works under me. But the mayor thought some change would be good for the town.”

“Has it been?” she asked.

“You’ll have to ask the people in town that question.” Just as he said that, he turned off the main highway and into Waterman’s Reach. A quaint-looking town came into view. She quickly glimpsed the cobblestone sidewalks, antique-looking streetlights and picturesque storefronts.

Before she could soak too much of it in, Madelyn looked down at the paper where she’d jotted her travel information and rattled off the address. Zach turned off Main Street and pulled to a stop in a parking lot behind the downtown area in Waterman’s Reach.

“This is where you’re going?” Zach looked around as if confused. There were no bed-and-breakfasts or hotels close, which might explain why he looked baffled.

She pointed to a house across the lot. “Right there, if I understand correctly.”

Thank goodness she’d taken the time to look up the address online, so she had some idea of how the duplex looked. Dusk had fallen now, casting dim shadows on everything. She’d wanted to get here while it was still daylight outside, but that plan had been interrupted.

“Mayor Ron Alan’s rental property?” Zach asked.

“Yes, that’s correct. He’s letting me use it while I’m in town.” She still felt a little guilty about it. The mayor had gone out of his way to make her feel welcome. How would he feel when he found out she wasn’t writing a travel article but instead a hit piece on the town’s police chief?

“Mayor Alan owns quite a bit of real estate in the area,” Zach told her. “That’s how he originally made a name for himself. He used his inheritance to buy up real estate when the prices were low, and now he rents them out. In fact, even my house belongs to the man.”

“Small-town dynamics, huh? You’ve got to love them.”

He put the car in Park and started to get out.

“I can get my suitcase. Don’t worry about it,” Madelyn insisted.

He paused, one leg already on the ground. “I don’t mind. I can walk it up for you.”

“No, really. I’ve already put you out today, and I know you have reports to file, especially since that bullet came your way. Let me handle my suitcase.” She really wanted to be away from the man. She needed space to collect her thoughts.

“If you insist.” He shrugged, closing his door again. “If you have any more problems while you’re in town, let me know. In the meantime, I’ll call a tow truck to pick up your car. Fisher’s Auto Repair is the closest. Next shop is about thirty minutes out.”

“Fisher’s will be fine.”

“Will do.”

Her hands trembled as she stepped from the car and onto the cracked asphalt of the small, shadowed parking lot. Zach popped the trunk, and she ran around to grab her suitcase. Handle in hand, she leaned into the car once more. “Thanks again.”

“Hope you get that article written without any trouble,” he said.

His words froze her a moment. Then she realized it wasn’t a threat, but an observation based on what had happened earlier today.

She let out an airy laugh. Not a smooth move, Madelyn. You’ve got to be on the ball here.

“Thank you,” she murmured. She waved and took a step back.

“I’ll wait until you get inside.”

“I’ll be fine. I want to stretch my legs for a moment.” She needed to be away from his scrutiny as soon as possible.

He raised his eyebrows, as if he doubted her words. “As you wish.”

She waited until he pulled away to survey the area for any sign of danger, hating how her body had gone into fight-or-flight mode. All she spotted was the back side of the shops lining Main Street. A municipal lot was located dead center between buildings and houses that formed a U around it.

That U shape also meant she was hidden from eyesight from anyone walking the town’s sidewalks. The area back here was deserted, as most of the businesses had already closed for the evening.

The good news was that she didn’t see the white truck anywhere.

The bad news was that, if the truck’s driver did show up, no one would be around to hear her scream.

She shivered at the thought. All the craziness from earlier had shaken her up. Being followed. Meeting Zach the way she had. Hearing he’d been shot at.

It would leave anyone unsettled.

She glanced up at the house in front of her. Her temporary home was a two-level duplex the mayor owned and used as rental property. The home looked contemporary, well kept and clean with its blue siding and white trim. She was staying on the second floor, and if she understood correctly, the first floor was currently unoccupied.

She approached the stoop. A cardboard box had been left there with her name on it. Cautiously, she took the note on top off.

“For Madelyn, welcome to Waterman’s Reach. Here are some of our famous oysters to give you a taste of the town. Cordially, Mayor Alan.”

Madelyn swallowed a bitter taste in her mouth.

Instead of dwelling on her deceit now, she glanced around. Where was that lockbox where she could get the key?

By the garage, she remembered. She walked to the small building at the side of the house, found a small case beside the electrical box and turned the numbers there until the code was entered. The mechanism clicked open, and she pulled the key out.

As she walked back toward the door, she shuddered. There was something about being alone in a new place that always got to her. She tried to be tough. But on the inside, she constantly battled herself and her fears.

It wasn’t a fun position to be in.

She was going to get through this and prove to her colleagues that she was someone to watch out for in the field of investigative journalism.

She wanted to—no, make that needed to—prove herself.

The realization seemed a bit pitiful. She shouldn’t have to prove herself. But something was programmed into her thoughts, something at gut level, that made her believe that her self-worth was based on a certain set of criteria, no matter how much she might deny it.

She paused when she heard a sound behind her. Her shoulders instantly tightened. What was that?

She turned but saw nothing. Just trash cans, some old pallets and a broom.

Strange.

With a touch of hesitation, Madelyn hurried toward the door, her heels clacking against the pavement. That was rule number one that her mentor had taught her: always dress for success.

Madelyn heard that sound behind her again and paused. Fear began to gel in her stomach. Before she could turn, a hand covered her mouth.

Her heart surged with panic. What was happening?

Was she being robbed? Mugged? Murdered?

“Get out of this town,” someone whispered in her ear.

THREE

Madelyn froze as she waited for the man’s next threat, his next demand. Waited for the pain she was about to experience.

“You shouldn’t have ever come here.” His voice sounded gruff, commanding.

His gloved hand pressed hard into her mouth. Hard enough that her teeth ached, that they cut into her gums and lips. His arm locked her in place. The man was strong, and his hold was like a clamp.

Madelyn’s gaze darted around. There was no one around to help her. To see the act happening. To report to the police that she was missing.

Her heart ached at the thought. There’d be no one to mourn her. She was alone in this world, and never had she remembered that fact like she did now.

“Go back to Maryland,” the man continued. “Understand?”

She didn’t dare speak.

“Understand?” He squeezed her until she yelped.

She nodded, desperate for her life.

She wanted to fight, but she was frozen. Did he have a knife? A gun? Would he kill her?

Instead, his hand slipped. In one slick movement, he shoved her to the ground. Quickly, he reached down and grabbed the oysters. Then he fled.

She looked over her shoulder in time to spot a figure dressed in black. She couldn’t tell anything else about him. He was too much of a blur, a shadow, as he bolted away.

She sank to the ground, her knees going weak. Her insides were a quivering mess. Her whole life had flashed before her eyes, and she’d feared the worst. She’d feared she would join her parents.

Only—would she? They’d believed in God and in Heaven. Madelyn certainly didn’t believe in God anymore, and she wasn’t sure what she thought about Heaven or life after death.

She only knew there was a massive hole in her heart after her parents—her only family, since she had no siblings—had been stripped from her.

All she’d lived for since their death was her career. It seemed like the only sure thing about her future—at least it was her best hope. She couldn’t let some bully pressure her into giving up her dreams and goals.

She sucked in a deep breath, trying to compose herself and not fall apart.

With another shudder of fear, she hurried back to her suitcase, picked it up and went to the house. Her hands trembled as she tried to put the key in the lock.

She just wanted to be somewhere safe.

Did someone know who she was? Know why she was really here? What else might he do to ensure she actually did go home?

The only person who may feel threatened by Madelyn was Zach. She shook her head. He shouldn’t have any clue who she really was. Paula was the only one who knew her true motives for coming here.

That’s when Madelyn realized the truth: she needed to report a crime.

It looked like she and Zach Davis were going to have to talk again. Maybe this was a good thing. After all, what better way to track down the truth than by getting to know him more?

* * *

Zach leaned back in the ratty old desk chair and thought about what had happened earlier. All of it seemed out of the realm of the ordinary for the quiet town.

If Madelyn was telling the truth—and he had no reason to suspect she wasn’t—she’d been followed into town. Then someone had shot at Zach. What an utterly strange greeting for the town’s visitor.

The town’s very intriguing visitor. Yet, her gaze had been shifty and her actions showed anxiety. Was she hiding something? Or was she simply shaken up after everything that had happened?

He surveyed his small, quiet office. He had a secretary/receptionist/dispatcher and one officer here in the fishing community. He could use more help, but the mayor had yet to approve the budget increase.

Zach had only been in Waterman’s Reach for three months—barely enough time to learn the ropes and fully comprehend how the small department here operated. So far, he knew the town was sleepy.

He’d been inching closer and closer to this exact location and this exact job. As soon as he heard about the position opening up, he jumped on the opportunity to come here.

He’d done his homework. He knew that Waterman’s Reach was the most likely spot where he’d find answers about the crime that haunted him. Gone was the big-city excitement of being a detective. His work in Baltimore had never been done—he didn’t have enough hours in his day to give the attention needed to each one of his cases. Here, he experienced a slower pace of life.

He actually kind of liked the change. What he didn’t like was the lives that had been affected by what had happened in Baltimore before he left. The families that had been hurt. The futures that had been destroyed.

He crushed the paper cup in his hand and tossed it into the trash can. With any luck, he would find some answers here and be able to move on with his life eventually. The only caveat was that he had to ensure that no one could figure out who he really was in the meantime. If they did, his whole investigation—years of work—would be ruined.

He felt the air in the building change as the front door opened, and he waited for Lynn to greet the visitor. When he didn’t hear anything, he stood and stretched his taut muscles before stepping out of his office. Now where had Lynn gone? Her desk was empty.

“Can I help—?” He stopped abruptly when he saw the familiar figure. “Madelyn. What brings you by here? I called the tow truck, but I’d give Fisher’s a little bit longer—”

“It’s not about my car. It’s about the man who just attacked me.”

He bristled. Attacked? On the surface, violence didn’t seem to exist in Waterman’s Reach.

Until Madelyn Sawyer showed up.

“Attacked you?” he repeated.

She nodded, lowering her gaze for a minute. Her hand went to the counter as if she needed to steady herself. Just then he noticed her bloody knee and the rip in her skirt.

“Do you need to sit down?” he asked. “Go to the hospital?”

She offered what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

His curiosity continued to grow. “Could you tell me what happened?”

“A man came up behind me, put his hand over my mouth and demanded that I leave town. Then he stole my...” She frowned. “Oysters.”

His concern temporarily disappeared as she finished her sentence. Certainly he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Oysters?”

Her frown deepened. “I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned that part.”

“Why don’t you come into my office and I’ll take your statement?”

“I’d appreciate that.” She took a few steps toward Zach as he extended his hand toward the open door in the distance.

Just as she reached him, her knees gave out. Zach grabbed her elbow to steady her. As he did, electricity shot through him.

He quickly pulled himself together and tried to forget the scent of lilac perfume that had wafted up toward him. She held her head up higher, surprisingly tense. She was probably shaken after what just happened. No one could blame her for that.

He pulled out a padded seat across from his desk.

“Please.” He waited until she was seated before walking to the other side and lowering himself into the beat-up swivel chair he’d inherited from the previous chief. Levi Watson had cared more about giving himself bonuses than he had for building upgrades or equipment updates. “Now, please tell me exactly what happened.”

She ran through her story.

“He actually reached down and took the oysters before he left?” He had to ask the question because that aspect of the crime seemed so obscure.

Madelyn scowled, as if she didn’t appreciate him following up. “That’s correct.”

As he shifted in his seat, the chair squealed beneath him. “Did you get a look at him?”

“I only saw that he was wearing black.”

All black? Could it be the same person who’d shot at him in the woods? His instincts said yes.

Something in her gaze caused his guard to rise. Was she hiding something? But what? If that was the case, certainly she could have come up with a better cover story than stolen oysters.

“I never asked you earlier: how long will you be in town?” Zach asked.

“At least a week.”

He contemplated her answer a moment before nodding. Her explanation seemed reasonable enough. “I’ll see what I can find out. I have to admit, what you’ve told me isn’t much to go on, but I will check with some of the shop owners with businesses near the duplex and find out if they saw anything suspicious.”

“I don’t really want to draw any attention to myself.” She shrugged, as if her words might have sounded strange. “It’s only smart as a single woman.”

“I’ll use caution.”

She nodded as she stood, clutching her purse. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”

“I’ll be in touch, Ms. Sawyer.” As he watched her retreat, something felt unsettled in his gut.

There was something she wasn’t telling him. Now he just had to figure out what and why.

Zach followed her out into the reception area. Lynn had returned, a steaming microwave meal in front of her and an apologetic smile on her face. He nodded at her as he stepped outside the small office building located on the edge of the town’s retail area.

He let his gaze wander down the sidewalk. He expected to see Madelyn. Instead, his attention was drawn to his police cruiser. The tires were all flat.

He bent down to examine them and saw slashes in the thick rubber. Someone had done that on purpose. But what kind of message were they trying to send? That he wasn’t welcome here?

Some didn’t approve of an outsider being chief. Since he’d arrived in town, his mailbox had been knocked over. Some potted plants on his deck had been smashed. A dead fish had been left outside his window at the police station. Now this.

Did that mean that someone knew about his past? The thought made him bristle.

If someone knew who he was, that could sabotage his whole investigation—which was his entire reason for being here.

He couldn’t let that happen.

* * *

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Madelyn mumbled into the phone.

She paced the kitchen floor while dark windows stared at her in the distance. As unexplainable nerves got the best of her, she pulled her sweatshirt closer around her, wishing for a moment she was back in her safe little apartment in Maryland. At least she had a few neighbors there who would notice if something was wrong or that she could run to if she had any trouble. Here, she felt alone and out of place. She kept reliving her earlier encounter outside the house.

“Madelyn, of course you can do this,” her editor, Paula, said. “This will be your big story, the one that propels you to the top. You can’t back out now.”

“But I talked to Zach. He didn’t seem evil or murderous or like a bad cop even.” He’d been quite handsome, truth be told. And kind. He didn’t look cold-blooded, not even when he’d pushed Madelyn for more answers than she’d wanted to give.

“You could tell what was going on deep inside of the man after talking to him twice? People often hide who they really are, Madelyn. You can’t take everyone at face value, and if you’re going to make it as a journalist, you’re going to have to finely tune your reporting instincts. No more thinking with your heart. None of this misplaced compassion. You’re good at getting people to trust you. Get Zach to trust you also.”

Madelyn frowned and leaned against the wall a moment, staring at the dark beach beyond her window. She couldn’t make anything out except an occasional whitecap hitting the sand.

Seeing the bay made her feel small and reminded her what a big world it was out there. Since her parents had died, she’d felt all alone without any kind of support system to fall back on.

Her mom and dad had gone out to dinner one night and neither had come home. They’d been in a car wreck. A police officer had been in pursuit of a suspect after a bank robbery. He’d gone through an intersection and rammed into her parents’ car, killing them on impact.

The officer hadn’t lost his job, and his apology hadn’t meant anything considering the loss Madelyn had faced.

She had been only eighteen at the time. Her childhood had ended on that day, never to be regained.

A few months later she’d gone off to college and tried to forge a new life for herself. Paula had been a graduate assistant for one of her professors and had seen promise in one of Madelyn’s essays. She’d given her guidance when Madelyn had no one else.

After college, Paula began working at East Coast International Magazine. Five years later she became editor. Paula had hired Madelyn last year after she’d gained some experience by working for a few small-town newspapers in the years after college.

Paula was everything Madelyn wanted to be. She was smart, successful and respected. But their personalities were quite different. Like night and day for that matter. Paula was brash, bold and said what was on her mind. Madelyn, on the other hand, was softer, kinder and more contemplative.

She snapped back to the conversation. Get Zach to trust you, Paula had said.

This was going to require a certain level of deceit on Madelyn’s part. She’d thought about this a lot before she’d come. Could she really handle the task? Earlier, she thought she could. But now she was beginning to doubt herself and her reasons for being here.

“You’re sure Zach is guilty?”

“Madelyn, it’s his fault that two police officers died, not to mention that poor boy.”

“That poor boy was a drug dealer,” Madelyn reminded her. “Not that he should have been shot. But he was about to shoot Zach.”

“Rumor has it that Zach Davis was involved in the drug ring, and that’s why those two officers were killed. It was no mistake. People think that Zach didn’t want to be caught and that something went down during the bust that might indicate his guilt and involvement in the whole thing.”