“Did he say anything else?” Cassidy asked, pausing by the front door and tugging her jacket closer as a cool wind bulldozed this side of the house.
“He said he was from West Virginia. He was here to start fresh. He seemed like a pretty normal guy. Nothing raised any warning bells.”
“Good to know.” Cassidy gave him a nod. “I’m going to check out the inside. You may want to stay here. I’m not sure what we’re going to find.”
In all likelihood, it could be a crime scene.
Paul didn’t argue. “Actually, if it’s okay with you, I’m renovating the kitchen at home. My wife would love for me to finish it. Are you good here? Just lock up when you leave?”
Cassidy nodded. “We are. We can always call if we need you.”
Apprehension filled Cassidy as she took the first step into the house. She scanned everything around her. The layout was typical for homes in this area, with one large great room complete with kitchen, dining room, and living room. A hallway stretched beyond that, and, most likely, Cassidy would find three bedrooms and a bathroom there.
Carefully, Cassidy walked through the front rooms. She saw nothing—no sign that anyone had even been staying here.
Next, she reached a bathroom. Again, it looked clean and untouched. As did the first two bedrooms.
At the third bedroom, she paused. If she didn’t find anything here, then all this would be for nothing.
Cassidy nudged the door open. She sucked in a breath at what she saw.
A chair had fallen over on the floor beneath a ceiling fan. Beside the chair was a noose and a steak knife. Judging by the battered strands at the end of the noose, someone had cut through the rope.
This was their crime scene, Cassidy realized. The place where Al Hartman’s life had ended.
“Bingo,” Mac said behind her.
Bingo was right.
Cassidy squinted as something in the carpet caught her eye. Carefully, she walked across the room to get a better look at the mystery object. Squatting, she pulled tweezers from her pocket to pick up a small, colorful chip on the floor.
Actually, it wasn’t a chip. It was a coral-colored press-on nail. Just like the ones Trisha Hartman had been wearing. And the woman had been missing one.
She needed to talk to Trisha again. Now.
And Cassidy knew just where to find her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cassidy had dropped Mac back off at the station so she could talk to Trisha Hartman alone. This was a conversation she wanted to have one-on-one.
Trisha was staying at the only inn in town, and the woman at the front desk had told Cassidy that Trisha was here. Cassidy rapped at the door and waited, anxious to get to the bottom of this.
When Trisha pulled the door open, her eyes looked red, like she’d been crying.
“Chief …” she started, wiping her hands beneath her eyes and trying to compose herself. “What a surprise.”
“I have more questions for you,” Cassidy’s voice sounded hard and her compassion had all but disappeared.
Fear stretched across Trisha’s face, through her round eyes and quivering chin. “Do you?”
Did she know she’d been caught?
“I know there’s more you’re not telling me, Trisha. And every time you hide something, you look guiltier and guiltier.”
“I wouldn’t have done anything to Al. You’ve got to believe me.” Her face twisted as she stared at Cassidy, pleading with her eyes.
“I’m having a hard time believing anything you’ve said.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you the whole story.” She raised her hands in defeat.
Cassidy noticed that the woman had finally taken her fake nails off. “I’m waiting.”
Trisha opened the door farther. “There are two seats in here. Do you want to come in?”
Cassidy stepped inside, observed the neat room, and then took a seat in a blue armchair near the window. “Go ahead.”
Trisha rubbed her hands against her jeans and sat in the chair across from her. “Al called me about a week ago.”
“What about?”
“He said he wanted out.”
“Wanted out of what? Anthony Gilead’s inner circle?” Cassidy clarified.
She nodded quickly, adamantly. “Yes. But he’d given up his car and his cell phone and he had no way to leave. He wanted me to come get him.”
That was an interesting development. “What did you say?”
“Al promised to make changes. He said he was a different person, and he begged me to take him back. Said he missed me and the kids, and he admitted that he’d messed up.”
“So you came all the way here?” It was probably an eight-hour drive, not including ferry times.
Trisha focused on the floor. “That’s right. I came. I didn’t know what else to do but to help. He sounded desperate … and sincere.”
“Did he say what had changed?”
“Not really. He said he’d update me when I got here. So I came and pulled up to the address he’d given me. I walked inside and found him …” A sob wracked her voice. “I found Al hanging from a ceiling fan. It was so terrible.”
Some of Cassidy’s irritation with the woman subsided. This woman might not have told the complete truth, but her grief was real. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t know what to do, so I cut him down.”
“Did you ever think about calling the police, Trisha?”
She dabbed her eyes again with a crumpled tissue. “I knew how it would look. Our divorce proceedings were not pretty. And then I show up right when he’s found dead?”
“So you cut him down and left him?”
Trisha shrugged, looking deflated. “I know how that sounds. It sounds bad. I sound guilty. But I wasn’t strong enough to take Al anywhere. And I figured the real estate company would find him soon enough. That no one would even have to know that I’d been there.”
“Yet you called me a few days later. What changed?”
“His body washed up in the ocean. When I heard that, I knew he hadn’t hung himself. Someone had done it, and they were trying to cover their tracks. They probably thought the ocean would drag him out to sea. But it didn’t. It spit him back out.” Her tear-filled eyes met Cassidy’s. “I’m all my kids have left. Are you going to arrest me?”
Cassidy licked her lips and contemplated her next move. “Not yet. But is there anything else you’re not telling me?”
She sniffled, her shoulders sagging with defeat. “There is one other thing.”
“Go ahead.” Cassidy felt weariness pressing in on her.
She walked over to her nightstand and plucked up a book. “I took this from Al’s rental house.”
She handed Cassidy a paperback entitled Finding God’s Way in Your Life: 10 Rules to Live By. The nonfiction title was probably two hundred fifty pages thick with a gentle blue cover, complete with a dove flying into a bright beam of light.
“What is this?”
“It was written by that Anthony Gilead guy. I thought maybe if I read it, it would help me understand why Al had done some of the things he did. Instead, it left me even more confused. I just … I didn’t understand most of what I read. It was unlike any Christian book I’ve read before.”
“I’m going to need to keep this.” Cassidy held up the book.
“Please do. I want it gone. I don’t want anything else to do with this situation.”
“You’re not cleared yet, Ms. Hartman. I still need you to stick around on the island. Do you understand?”
Trisha nodded. “I understand. But my children … they miss me. My mom is watching them for me, but I told her I’d be home by tomorrow.”
“I’m doing my best to find answers.” Cassidy stood and stepped toward the door. “The more forthcoming people are with me, the faster I’ll get this figured out.”
“I don’t know anything else. I promise.”
“I’ll be in touch soon.”
Ty came w
ith Cassidy to monitor the woods on the north end of the Gilead’s Cove compound. They’d both changed into dark jeans, dark tops, dark jackets, and dark baseball caps as well as boots. Even in the winter, ticks and other critters had the amazing ability to stay alive out here. Besides, it was bitterly cold—and becoming more so as the sun set.
They tromped through the underbrush until they found a good spot just out of sight of the fence.
“You really think that woman is going to come over here again?” Ty said, perching on a low-lying branch of a live oak tree.
“I have no idea, but it’s worth a shot. Besides, I can see into the compound a little more this way. Maybe I’ll discover something.”
She sat beside him and filled him in on her day.
“That’s crazy,” Ty said. “Did you talk to Serena yet and get her take on this Dietrich situation?”
“No, not yet. I actually tried to call her, but she didn’t answer. Skye said she drove over to Hatteras to pick up some more supplies for her business, whatever that means. Her ice cream delivery comes by boat every week—or less in the winter. At least that should mean she’s far away from Dietrich right now. In the meantime, I asked Skye to keep an eye on her and explain the situation.”
Ty picked up a twig and absently twirled it between his fingers. “What do you think of the new guy? Dane? Good choice?”
“He seems competent, and what more can I ask for? I strongly suspect that Leggott will be leaving soon too, so I know I don’t have much time to waste. Summer will be here before we know it.”
“At least it’s a start, right?”
“Right.” Cassidy reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out the book that Trisha had given her. “Let’s find out a little more about this movement going on here at Gilead’s Cove.”
“Anthony Gilead has a book, huh?” Ty glanced at the cover and frowned.
“Apparently. But it’s not available anywhere online—I checked. So this must be something that’s handed out to members or potential members.”
“I’m surprised it’s not online so he can spread his message to the hungry masses.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to expose his teachings to anyone and everyone—only a select few. There’s probably less scrutiny that way. Or maybe this is more of a soft launch, and he’s getting some initial feedback.”
“I doubt that. He seems too arrogant to think he can fail.” Ty tossed the twig he’d been twirling into the brush.
Cassidy squinted as she opened the book midway. She couldn’t risk turning a light on for illumination, but the sun was quickly fading. She held the book closer and read the words there. “Listen to this, Ty. He’s quoting from what he claims is a noncanonized book of the Bible called Makir.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Me neither, not that I’m an expert on these things. He claims that God showed him and his team where to find an ancient manuscript for this forgotten book. They had to risk everything while in the Middle East in order to obtain it.”
“Including smuggling it out of the country?”
“He doesn’t say that. But he does say,” Cassidy read the words aloud, “that the old scrolls were exactly where God had promised. Translators had worked around the clock to both preserve the fragile parchment and to translate the words there.”
Ty looked at something on his phone, squinting as his eyes scanned his screen. “According to a quick search, it looks like there was someone named Makir in Genesis. He was the father of … Gilead.”
“So now it makes a little more sense why Anthony Gilead took on this new name. What it doesn’t tell us is who he really is.” She swatted a branch that scratched her neck, propelled toward her by the breeze.
“But it does confirm the fact that this man was in the Middle East.”
Cassidy studied his face a moment, realizing again just how much this was bothering Ty. “You still think you had contact with him before coming here to Lantern Beach?”
“Maybe not with him directly. But I can’t shake the feeling that we’re in some way connected.” He nodded toward the book again. “What else does it say?”
“There are a lot of quotes from this supposed book of the Bible that talk about being set apart. About giving up everything. About …” Cassidy squirmed and read the passage again, making sure she understood it correctly.
“About what?” Ty leaned closer.
“About those who aren’t a part of the movement being an abomination worthy of death.” A chill washed over her.
“That sounds ominous … maybe even threatening.”
“Yes, it does.” Cassidy’s mind dwelled on those words. Certainly these followers didn’t put that line into practice, did they?
She thought again about that bone Carter Denver’s dog had found. They hadn’t received the results back yet, but what if it was human? Could it be tied in with all this craziness?
“I’m liking this less and less all the time,” Ty said.
So was she.
As something moved in the distance, Cassidy grabbed Ty’s arm. “I see someone coming.”
They both froze as they watched a woman walk toward the fence.
Cassidy squinted. She’d seen her before.
She was the honey blonde who’d been cleaning the bathrooms.
She was Moriah Roberts.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cassidy watched as the woman approached the fence and stared out at the woods, a far-off look in her eyes.
“Let me handle this,” Cassidy whispered. She feared a male might scare the woman off. Cassidy might scare her off also, for that matter, but she figured the odds were in her favor.
“You’ve got this.”
Cassidy appreciated Ty’s words of encouragement, even more so as jitters rattled through her.
She swallowed hard before stepping forward and calling, “Moriah.”
The woman froze. Her gaze stretched through the woods before finally focusing on Cassidy. She startled and took a step back, as if she might run.
“No, wait. Please. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Moriah glanced around and then inched closer. “Who are you?”
Cassidy was careful to stay in the shadows, just in case anyone else came past. “I need your help.”
Moriah shook her head. “I’m not sure what I can do to help anyone.”
“I think a man who was a part of the group you’re associated with is dead.”
Her eyes widened. “This is a safe place. No one would get hurt here.”
“He might have harmed himself. But I need to know for sure if that’s the case. I need certainty that no one else harmed him.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to do. I was just here to look for deer. They come out at dawn and dusk sometimes, and I like to catch a glimpse of them. If I get caught … they might throw me out.”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
Moriah seemed to contemplate it a moment before backing up. “I’m sorry. I can’t help. I can’t let anything mess up this opportunity.”
Cassidy licked her lips, knowing she needed to proceed carefully. “Your parents are here on the island, Moriah.”
She froze again. “What?”
“They came here looking for you. They’re worried.”
“Tell them I’m okay. Please? My dad has heart problems. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”
Cassidy didn’t want to play this next card, but she felt like she had no other choice. She had to somehow convince Moriah to help her. “Moriah, I can do that. But I need you to do me a favor first.”
“Like what?” Moriah’s big, doe-like eyes fastened on Cassidy’s.
At that moment, Cassidy sensed just how young the girl was. She sensed Moriah’s confusion. Her vulnerability.
And she could see where Gilead might seem like the perfect solution.
In Cassidy’s mind, that made all of this even more of a crime.
“I need to find out if a guy
named Al Hartman was affiliated with Gilead’s Cove,” Cassidy said.
Moriah blinked and clutched her tunic closer around her neck. “How am I supposed to find that out?”
“Can’t you ask around?”
“People will get suspicious if I pull that name out of thin air.” She shivered.
Were these people not allowed to have coats? It was bitterly cold outside …
“Moriah, a man that we believe was associated with this group was strangled and then tossed out into the ocean. We also believe that someone behind this fence may know something. Can you keep your ears open for us?” She had to convince Moriah to help her.
She stared at Cassidy a moment as if contemplating her answer.
She didn’t respond.
And then she craned her neck, as if she heard someone coming.
“Moriah, I’ll be here tomorrow—at dawn and dusk. Please, come back. Same time. Same place.” Cassidy slipped into the shadows and waited. A few minutes later, a man approached Moriah and took her elbow, muttering that he’d been looking for her.
Another chill went down Cassidy’s spine.
It was the man she’d seen on the dune—the one who’d been watching when Al’s body washed ashore. He was a part of Gilead’s Cove.
Her chill deepened as she watched the two walk away.
Cassidy had no idea if her plan had worked.
But maybe—just maybe—she’d planted a seed.
The bad feeling in Ty’s gut continued to grow as he hovered behind a tree, watching Cassidy from a distance. Whatever was going on behind that fence seemed twisted and wrong. And the idea that Cassidy might entangle herself in it made his blood burn.
He’d known the risks when Cassidy took this job. The woman loved justice and wanted to see the innocent prevail and the wicked pay for their offenses. But doing so put her in the line of fire.
He could hardly stomach the thought of it.
He had to find out this Gilead guy’s real name.
As soon as Moriah was out of sight, Cassidy made her way back toward him. Ty stepped from behind the tree and followed her as she motioned toward her SUV. Neither dared to speak as they tromped through the woods. Instead, they waited until they were inside her vehicle.
On the Lookout Page 13
