Christy Barritt - Dark Harbor

* * *

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.”