Twilight at Blueberry Barrens

by Colleen Coble

  Heat washed up her face. What must he think of her? She wanted to groan. He was probably used to way more sophisticated women. Her leg was asleep, and she struggled to get up and stand on it. It felt like a wooden table leg, and she bent over to massage it. From the corner of her eye, she saw a large white envelope lying beside the blanket. Someone had probably left it.

  She reached for it, then froze when she saw her name typed onto a sticky label on the front. Her hand shook as she picked it up and looked around. The last of the stragglers were hurrying to their cars, and she felt very alone in the open grassy field even though there were figures aboard the boats bobbing in the bay. She could easily call for help if she needed it.

  Who had left this? It felt sinister after everything that had happened, and she feared opening it would change things even more. She couldn’t see it anyway until she got into the Land Rover, so she stuck it in the basket with the empty food containers, then turned to watch for Drake.

  The big Land Rover rolled to a stop at the curb, and he got out with a smile that faded when he looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  She lifted Phoebe and carried her to the SUV, then buckled her into the backseat. Jackson hopped in behind her. The little girl’s head lolled to the side as she slumped and fell into a deeper sleep. Emma barely stirred when Drake put her in the other side of the Land Rover. He buckled her in and shot a questioning glance at Kate before sliding under the steering wheel.

  Kate stowed the basket in the back, pausing long enough to grab the envelope, then climbed into the passenger seat. “This was on the ground by our blanket. Did you see anyone put it there?”

  He flipped on the overhead light and stared at her name. “No, but it would have been easy enough to miss it with the people leaving. What’s in it?”

  She buckled her seat belt. “I didn’t open it. Go ahead.”

  Frowning, he tore the flap open and reached inside. “Feels like pictures.” He pulled out a handful of glossy snapshots, then turned them over to look at them.

  She leaned closer to study them with him. The top picture was of the two of them at dinner the other night. It was during the time when he’d taken her hand. The expression on his face quickened her pulse. But there was also a big black X over Drake’s face.

  Drake laid it aside to reveal the next picture: one of her standing in the backyard with the girls. The next picture showed them walking toward the police station in Ellsworth. The last one was taken through Claire’s kitchen window. It showed the two of them sitting at the table with coffee cups. “I think these were taken with a drone. See the angle from up high?”

  She picked up the stack of pictures and flipped them over. There was writing on the one that had the X over Drake’s face. In bold block letters it read YOU’RE MINE.

  * * *

  Drake shut the hotel door and threw the security bar. After talking to the sheriff, he’d decided to move the girls to a suite at the Hotel Tourmaline. He didn’t like the fact they’d been in one of the pictures. The deeper he got into Heath’s files, the more he worried that Heath’s and Melissa’s deaths had been revenge. Who knew what moved a man like Wang.

  Bundled in a fluffy throw, Kate was on the sofa in the living room with Jackson at her feet. She was pale, and her eyes looked enormous. “Wow, this suite is fabulous.” She offered him a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Leather furniture and that carpet is so thick you sink into it. We didn’t have to stay here. There’s a less expensive motel in Summer Harbor.”

  “Don’t try to make small talk.” He crouched beside her. “This isn’t your fault.”

  She rose and tossed the throw aside. “I should go home. Maybe if I face him, this will end.”

  He caught her arm as she neared. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m not about to let you confront this guy. He is a total unknown, Kate.” His gaze roved over her beautiful face. Her skin would feel as soft as down if he touched it, and he could smell the scent of her hair again. All he wanted to do was kiss her until they were both breathless.

  She must have seen his intention because she pulled away and shook her head. “I-I should apologize for the way I acted at the movie. I was half asleep and didn’t realize what I was doing.”

  He gave a short bark of laughter. “You’re not seriously going to try to pretend you didn’t want to kiss me.”

  Her cheeks colored and she looked down. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just that . . .”

  “Not another word.” He grinned and cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. He’d kissed his share of women, but none of them made him feel the way Kate did. She tasted like passion and commitment. Like forever. He’d never imagined forever with a woman before, but he was in love with her and it felt great. Her lips were soft and responsive under his, and a protest rose in his throat when she finally pulled away. He could feel her heart beating as fast as a bird’s against his chest.

  He pulled her more tightly against his heart and rested his chin on her head. “We are right together, Kate. I think you feel it too.”

  “I’m afraid to read too much into it.” Her voice was soft. “I don’t have much experience with men. For all I know you’ll break my heart, Drake Newham. I’m afraid that kind of heartbreak would leave me like Humpty Dumpty.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Kate.” He wanted to kiss her again, but he was afraid of scaring her. This was moving so fast, faster than his own comfort level could handle. Was it because of the danger they were going through together?

  He reached down and grabbed the fluffy white throw, then tucked it around her. “You can take the big bed, and I’ll take the rollaway here in the living room.”

  Her big blue eyes looked into his soul. “I’m not a bit sleepy.”

  “I’m not either. We could cuddle on the sofa.” He grinned when she colored again.

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what to make of you. You scare me, Drake.”

  “You scare me, Kate. I think love is supposed to feel this way.” Her eyes widened at the word, and his own heart clenched when he said it, but it was what he was feeling. “You feel it, too, don’t you? I love you. It’s fast, I know, but I’m sure. Aren’t you?”

  She nodded and tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t want to love you.”

  His fingers touched her chin, and he tipped her head up. “Why not? There’s nothing wrong with falling in love.”

  “You don’t understand.” Tears began to roll down her face, and she swiped at them impatiently. “I’m doing this all wrong. I should have told you sooner. Claire told me to tell you weeks ago when she saw how attracted to you I was.” Jackson whined and got up to press his head against her knee.

  His gut clenched at the sadness in her voice. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I want to wake up to your smile every morning and see your face across from me at the breakfast table. I want to grow old with you by my side and our kids all around. I think you want that too.”

  “That’s just the point!” Her words sounded loud in the quiet room. “I can’t have kids, Drake. The chemo ruined my ovaries. I’m barren now.”

  He blinked as the perfect dream world he’d been living in popped like an overfilled water balloon. “I see.” He glanced over her shoulder into the open bedroom where his nieces slept. “We have Phoebe and Emma though. And we could adopt more children.”

  She backed away and shook her head. “You’re just saying that now so you don’t hurt me. I know how important children are to you. You’ve talked about it a lot.”

  He had talked about it, had made assumptions. And while the news took him aback, it didn’t change how he felt about her. When he reached for her, she stepped away and ran to the other bedroom. She let Jackson in and the lock clicked on the other side.

  He rattled the doorknob. “Let me in, Kate. It doesn’t make any difference.” When she didn’t answer, he raked his hand through his hair and blew out a
breath.

  She was tired. He’d let her sleep and convince her in the morning.

  * * *

  Kate opened the door to the balcony and stepped out under the moonlight. She didn’t want to hear him call her name again. She couldn’t make any kind of decision about a relationship with Drake until she figured out who was trying to scare her. Her brain cried out for careful thought.

  She pulled a chair and small table closer to the railing and stared out on the mesmerizing scene of waves rolling to the rocky shoreline. The lights of a distant boat went by, and the moon was huge over the water. She heard the dog shuffle behind her—his nails clicked on the concrete as he came to join her.

  Such serenity should help her think. She opened the notebook she’d dug from her purse and took out a pen. She began to list all the events of the summer. The bodies she’d found, the Peeping Tom, the break-ins, her uncle’s escape, the trophy bag found in her blueberry field, the chocolate in the picnic basket, the breather call, and the photographs. Staring at the list, she saw no correlation at first. Then she began to draw lines of connection between them, and the truth made her straighten and gasp.

  Her uncle hadn’t done all the things she’d thought.

  She’d tried to believe the more serious things had been committed by her uncle, but there was no clear correlation between him and the things that had terrified her the most—like the chocolate and the photographs. The most logical link was between the Peeping Tom, the trophy bag, the chocolate, the breather call, and the photographs. This would indicate that whoever was watching women had fixated on her. No way had her uncle done them.

  Then who? She looked out over the lights of Folly Shoals and thought about it. Everything seemed to center on that trophy bag of jewelry. The possessions of several young women were in that assortment.

  There’s a stalker in the area.

  He wasn’t just targeting her, but other women too. And he’d go on with it if no one forced him into the open. Whitney might have been his first kill, but she wouldn’t be his last. The next one could be her or Claire. Or one of her friends at church. Was she just going to stand by and let the guy do whatever he wanted, or was she going to put an end to this?

  Fear wasn’t a condition she was okay to live with. She was going to drag that man out into the light and expose him. And the only way to do that was to be a target. In the morning she would call Danny and tell him she would be a decoy.

  Drake wouldn’t like it. For the first time since she came out under the stars, she let herself think about what Drake had just said. Did her inability to have children really matter so little to him, or was he trying not to hurt her feelings? She let herself linger on how he’d looked when he admitted he loved her. What if the situation were reversed, and he couldn’t have children? Would she love him less?

  No, she’d still love him. That realization set her world on an even keel again. Claire was right. She’d let herself be defined by what she didn’t have instead of what she possessed. Kate had been through so much in her life, and she didn’t need to fear the future. God had been with her through every bit of the trials she’d endured. He’d be with her no matter where her path led.

  She twined her fingers into her dog’s coat, then leaned forward and put her arms around his neck. Drake had helped her see in some small way that she didn’t have to earn love. He loved her just because. Just like God did. Just like anyone who really mattered would love her.

  She rose and inhaled one last gulp of sweet, salt-laden air, then turned and went back inside with Jackson close behind. She had to let go of the fear she’d carried for so many years. As she pulled the drapes on the door, she caught a glimpse of the moon shining down on the water. Light always shone in the darkness.

  THIRTY

  Drake yawned and opened his laptop at the small table in the main area of the hotel suite. He should go to bed, but after talking with Kate, he knew he’d turn their conversation over and over in his head. It would be better to look at more of Heath’s files. He checked his e-mail first, and six new messages popped up. He scanned them and saw one from Deputy Kissner. He opened the attached document titled with his brother’s name and scanned it.

  Seeing his brother’s face on a steel table at the coroner’s made him close the lid of his computer and lean back in the chair. His heart hammered in his chest, and he looked at the computer with loathing. How did he even get through looking at that autopsy? His hand shook as he reached for the laptop lid again. Maybe he should start with Melissa’s autopsy report.

  He made a quick jump back to his mail and opened the other document, but seeing Melissa’s white face wasn’t much easier. Though she’d made some poor decisions, he loved her like a sister. Moisture filled his eyes and he blinked it away, then focused on the report.

  The autopsy had begun at eight thirty the morning after her death. He looked over what she was wearing: black jogging pants and a bright-yellow athletic shirt. Black-and-yellow jogging shoes. She’d clearly gone for a jog. He forced himself to change windows and look at Heath’s report. His list of clothing included jeans and a T-shirt, so he hadn’t been jogging with her. So what had he been doing up there? Drake flipped back to Melissa’s report and scanned the toxicology report. No drugs. Nothing notable in Heath’s drug report either, just some antihistamine.

  Inhaling, he forced himself to look at the rest of her report. The marks on her neck indicated she’d been choked before being tossed over the cliff. If he were the sheriff, he would have assumed Heath strangled her and threw her off as well, but Drake couldn’t bring himself to believe it. He scanned down to the internal exam section, then gasped.

  She’d been pregnant.

  The sheriff hadn’t mentioned that. Had Heath known she was pregnant? There was no way he would have killed his own child. This evidence added to his certainty that his brother was being accused of someone else’s crime. Who would have wanted to kill Heath and Melissa? He was going to have to keep digging. Drake had barely touched a fraction of all the cases Heath had handled. The answer had to be there somewhere.

  He glanced at his watch. It was nearly ten, but maybe the sheriff was still around. He called the office and was told the sheriff was just walking out the door but to hold on. While he waited, Drake peeked in on the girls. They were sound asleep, each with a stuffed animal he’d bought in the gift shop downstairs when they checked in. He walked to the other bedroom door and put his ear against it but heard nothing. Maybe Kate had been able to sleep. He hoped so.

  Finally Sheriff Colton’s gravelly voice spoke into his ear. “Drake, you just caught me. Has something else happened?”

  “Sorry to disturb you so late, Sheriff. I was just looking over the autopsy reports.”

  “Jonas told me he’d sent them. Sorry I forgot about them. It’s been a crazy summer.”

  “You never mentioned Melissa was pregnant. I just want to say again that there is no way Heath would have killed her when she was carrying his baby. No way in the world. He was the best father you can imagine.” Drake put a commanding tone into his voice. “You’ve got to start broadening your search. There are plenty of men who hated Heath for letting them get convicted. Maybe one of them was released from jail and is out for revenge.”

  The sheriff cleared his throat. “We got back some other information today, Drake. That’s why I’m here so late. It pretty much shows our investigation has been on the right track all along. The baby Melissa carried wasn’t Heath’s.”

  The words crushed Drake’s heart. He tried to speak and couldn’t. Not Heath’s. That knowledge could have made him snap. Had Melissa brought him to Maine to tell him the truth? Maybe she’d admitted she was taking the girls and leaving. Any man might react poorly to such devastating news.

  “Drake?”

  He wet his lips. “I’m here. I-I’m just stunned.”

  “Ayuh, I can imagine. Sorry to have to tell you such bad news. I think I told you we’ve got a witness who heard them arguin
g the night before, then with all this other evidence . . .”

  “Yes, I understand. Thanks for telling me.” He ended the call and pressed his fingers into his eyes. Heath appeared to have done exactly what everyone said.

  * * *

  Kate sat across the table from Claire in the Oyster Bistro as dawn lit the horizon with pink and gold. Only a few early risers occupied the restaurant, and they held to their coffee cups like a boat to an anchor. Claire still looked a little sleepy, and her long, blonde hair was still damp. Kate felt like death warmed over, which was no surprise after the night she’d had. She kept replaying the events of the evening over and over in her head. And heart.

  This place always soothed her. The pale-green coffee cups added to the pink-and-green decor, and the booths were private and plush.

  Claire examined her sister’s face. “You’ve got dark circles under your eyes. Did you get any sleep at all?”

  Kate shook her head and took a sip of coffee. The strong taste awakened her senses. “Not much. I’m not going to run from that maniac, Claire.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’ve got bear spray and my gun. Let him just try to grab me, and I’ll show him what resistance looks like. I’m done hiding out.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want you to be hurt—or worse.”

  She’d run the plan over and over in her head all night, mostly as a way to keep from thinking about Drake. “I’m not going to get hurt. I’m going to catch him.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Kate waited for a moment to answer as the server brought their breakfast of omelets and bacon. “I’m going to set up a decoy. I’m going to ask Danny for a wire and have the deputies surrounding the spot.” She held up her hand when Claire’s eyes went wide. “It will be totally safe. I’ll pick a place where Danny and his deputies can hide without being seen.”