by Rula Sinara
Eve had once confessed, after a few beers during a beach bonfire, that she’d lied to cops before. Back during her college days. All in the name of protecting helpless women and children on the run from abusive relationships. He couldn’t really fault her for it. He’d heard about secret groups that did that sort of thing. Heck, he’d kept plenty of secrets himself. But he was in law enforcement. She wasn’t.
Just last summer he’d helped hide the town vet as a federal witness, before Gray’s cover was blown, putting several lives in danger. Maybe that recent—almost deadly—incident with Gray was why his senses were still on high alert. He needed to stop looking at every situation through police eyes. He couldn’t help it, though. Protecting Turtleback Beach was on his shoulders. Noticing things that were out of the ordinary was what made him good at his job.
Carlos held out his hand and Faye paused before placing hers in his. There weren’t any rings on either of her hands. Single mother?
“Nice to meet you, Miss...?”
He was still in uniform and, regardless of Eve introducing her friend by her first name, he preferred keeping things formal with town visitors. Establishing his position as sheriff helped to maintain the peace, especially when tourist season hit. He had to admit, though, with Eve’s friend, there was something else that made him feel the need to keep that line drawn. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something that stirred in his chest, despite the fact that she wasn’t his type. Too much makeup and too little warmth. And he wasn’t interested in complicating his life. She glanced over his shoulder, then met his gaze.
“Potter... Faye Potter. Nice to meet you,” she said.
Her grip matched the firm line of her lips. There was nothing helpless about this woman. Her skin felt warm against his palm.
Eve blinked at her friend and her brow pinched ever so slightly. Faye quickly reclaimed her hand and folded her arms.
“Welcome to Turtleback,” Carlos said. “Glad you made it across the inlet safely. Most people wait until the sun’s up to cross that bridge. Safe as it is, it can be a little disconcerting in the dark if you’re not used to it, especially with waters this rough,” he added. That might explain why she looked like she needed to de-stress after her drive.
Crossing over to Hatteras Island in the dark with rough waters was a haunting drive for anyone not used to it. The bridge connecting the southern stretch of barrier island with the more populated northern end rose less than one hundred feet above the water and ran just under three miles across the Oregon Inlet. It was certainly safer and higher than the old bridge, but still a daunting experience to cross. An upset child in the back seat would have been an added distraction.
“Well, you know how it is when kids cry at night. Driving them around lulls them to sleep, so I took advantage,” Faye said.
No, he didn’t know how it was. He’d been an only child and had never had kids. And the one woman he’d planned on having a family with had left him when he was honorably discharged from the Air Force in order to care for his ailing mother. Not only had his life gotten too complicated for her, his mother’s needs meant it was time for him to return home for good...a fact that made her realize she wasn’t ready to put down roots, let alone in Turtleback...a town she had no ties to.
The toddler started whining and doing something akin to knee bends. Faye looked flustered and tried taking the child from Eve. She set her down to readjust her grip, but the squirming kid dropped her weight to the floor and let out a scream that had him wincing.
“Nim, do you want a book?” Eve suggested.
“Mi, mi,” the tot said, in a tearful, yet stubborn tone. Faye’s face flushed. She managed to hoist Nim into her arms and patted her back awkwardly. “Mi!” Nim insisted as she swatted away the book Eve held out. Faye pressed the little one against her shoulder and shushed her again.
“Everything is mine, mine, mine or me, me, me at this age,” Faye said, brushing off the outburst with a flick of her hand. Carlos couldn’t help but wonder why, if everything had to be “mine,” Nim didn’t claim the offered book. Faye gave him a tired smile, then sucked in the corner of her lip as she glanced at Eve.
“Um, someone’s tired. I think I should get my guests settled in,” she said. Carlos took the hint, pausing just long enough to look back at Faye, then at Eve.
Eve had not been involved in harboring runaways since her college years, as far as he knew. And he made it his business to know everything that went on in Turtleback. With only one road that led in and out of town, it was easy to keep watch. Turtleback was a nice place for a beach vacation...a place to hide out, so to speak, especially during the summer. But it wasn’t an ideal choice for someone on the run. They’d be easily cornered down here. Unless...they knew they’d be protected.
He was doing it again. Overthinking things and reading more into situations than existed. Was he that desperate for excitement? Had the adrenaline rush from the whole witness protection ambush been that addictive? Had it given him a taste of the more adventurous life he’d had back in his Air Force days? For crying out loud, maybe he needed to channel his imagination into writing one of those thrillers Eve kept stocked on the second level of Castaway Books.
He scrubbed a hand along his jawline. He needed less coffee and more sleep. Faye Potter was nothing more than Eve’s guest. Years in the Air Force and working in law enforcement taught him to trust his instincts, but instincts weren’t foolproof. If they were, he’d have never had his heart broken. He tipped his hat at them.
“Sure thing. I’ll leave you all to your day. Enjoy your stay in Turtleback. And Eve. Let me know if you need anything. Same for you, of course,” he added, cocking his head at her friend.
The bells jingled as he closed the door behind him and he squinted at the bright morning light. Out of habit, he burned the plate on Faye’s car to memory, noting the expiration sticker, then crossed the street.
Visitors came to Turtleback to relax, but those two looked anything but relaxed. Was Eve getting back into the business of helping abused women and children disappear, the way she did during college? Or was she just helping one friend in need? Faye Potter had a fire about her. There was nothing frail about her handshake or the way she looked at him. But he couldn’t seem to ignore his gut. The protective hand on Nim. The tension in the room. He slipped into the SUV that had Sheriff emblazoned on the side and took a swig of lukewarm coffee before starting the ignition. He trusted Eve and if she said all was well, then he had to go with it. He wouldn’t interfere. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep an eye—or two—on her friend. He wasn’t the bad guy. Protecting people from those on the wrong side of the law was what he lived for. That and keeping criminals out of Turtleback.
* * *
JIM PACED BACK and forth, then smacked the box of cereal that he had left out that morning on the otherwise pristine granite countertop. He’d gotten used to Clara cleaning up after him so that he could get out the door in a hurry for work. He cursed at the mess he’d made—of the kitchen and his life—and reached under the sink for a dustpan. It wasn’t there. He slammed the cabinet shut and stormed over to the pantry. She kept the stupid thing somewhere around here.
He flicked the light switch on the inner wall of the pantry and looked around. The paper towels were stacked just as he’d instructed her to do. Labeled side of the package facing forward. That way, they wouldn’t obstruct the door and things would look neat if one of his guests happened to open the pantry and look inside. Appearances mattered if he was to keep climbing up in the world. First impressions were everything. He needed people to know he could maintain control of any situation. That he paid attention to detail and could get the job done, whether it was taking on a high-profile case or moving beyond that into the world of politics. He’d rise up the ranks in the court system. He’d attain more power. People would listen to him. Respect him.
No dustpan, but
the handheld vacuum charging on a wall unit would have to do. He hated the whirring noise it made and the fact that she’d gone and bought it without him approving the expense. It didn’t work as well as a dustpan, as far as he was concerned. She’d gone and broken their regular vacuum by clogging it with one of Mia’s toys. Carelessness. Given no other option, he grabbed the hand vac, paused to straighten the jars of olives so that the labels all faced forward and proceeded to clean up the floor.
He’d get Faye for this. His sister-in-law, the bane of his existence, would regret what she’d just done. He had had everything under control until yesterday afternoon, when he went to pick Mia up. If he wasn’t the sharp-minded man he was, he might not have caught on so fast when Karen told him his wife had picked up their daughter earlier. He was furious. Faye had egged Clara on, dragging her to the station last month. She’d come so close to getting Clara to file charges against him. Who was she to interfere in his marriage? In his personal life? She didn’t understand what he dealt with on a daily basis. She had meddled where she had no business. And then there was Clara.
He pinched a piece of cereal the vac refused to suck up and threw it in the trash. His Clara. He’d given her plenty of warnings. What had she been thinking? Going to the cops...or even to Faye...hadn’t been her smartest move. Attempting to do it again earlier this week? Unforgivable. Utterly foolish. Didn’t she appreciate the life he was building for their family? How could she risk it all? The family name and reputation? All he’d worked for? He muttered another curse. They could have lost everything. That feminist sister of hers put a few ideas in her head and that’s all it took to risk everything? No wonder Faye was still single and, from what he understood from Clara, didn’t even have a boyfriend. What guy would put up with her?
He returned the hand vac to its holder, then loosened his tie. Family. As if he didn’t have enough to take care of at work. He and Clara had an understanding. She was supposed to help manage their home and social life. Keep things running smoothly. People liked the image of a family man. The attractive wife. The cute child. The dependable provider. They were supposed to be a team. But Clara didn’t get it. She had done fine until Mia was born and then motherhood had jumbled up her priorities. It had taken him forever to convince her to use babysitters so that she could make it to his work-related social events. He needed her there, by his side. But no. She had wanted to stay home. She hated the public eye. She seemed to think it wouldn’t be good for their child.
That’s not what they had agreed on when he’d first talked about marriage and their future. Plenty of kids grew up in politics and the public eye. They ended up in renowned schools because of it too. He knew what he was doing. She needed to listen to him.
Faye just had to interfere in their lives again. Clara had denied contacting her the past few days, but he couldn’t imagine Faye acting on her own—leaving that dirty dog business of hers behind and running off with his daughter. He knew Clara had confided in her sister. He made sure she understood he knew. She’d never overstep again.
At least right now he had Clara where he could keep her quiet until she remembered how things were supposed to be. The problem was that his boss and his wife were supposed to come to dinner tonight. He looked at his watch and thrummed his fingers on the counter. He’d have to cancel. No, wait. He’d tell them that Clara had gone to visit her parents with Mia for a few weeks and suggest dinner out. They knew Clara was the one who could cook.
An easy excuse. It would buy him time.
If he reported Faye taking Mia, there would be questions. Too many questions. Authorities would want to talk to Clara too. He couldn’t have that. Not unless he had a plan.
All he could think of right now was that he’d need to go after Faye himself. He had contacts. He could lie about why he wanted the information. And he’d track her down. He’d find her and destroy her reputation, credibility and her life if it was the last thing he did.
CHAPTER TWO
FAYE COLLAPSED IN the bookshop’s wingback reading chair as soon as the sheriff left. That was close. Too close. When Mia started insisting on her correct name, Faye thought it would be over. Of all the times to start trying to say her own name, she had to pick now. Faye rubbed her thumb against the pressure building along her brow. How long would it be before little Mia really started giving their true identities away?
What if their pictures were already plastered in every police station along the East Coast? This Carlos Ryker was asking questions and he kept looking at her. Not exactly in a mean, scrutinizing way, but he’d taken her in alright. Had he been one of her business customers back home, she might have assumed he was interested in her—personally—but that obviously wasn’t it. As ruggedly handsome as he was, she wasn’t interested either. Not given her present situation, at least. And certainly not with a cop of all people. This was the internet era. If Jim had reported the kidnapping, the sheriff would have her and Mia’s photos on his computer by now. She could only hope that the extra makeup, boxed hair dye she’d used on herself and the more child-friendly natural henna dye she’d used on Mia last night in a hotel room would work to keep suspicions at bay. There was also a chance that, since Jim had something to hide, he’d try negotiating with Faye one-on-one. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure what his game was or what would happen next and the not knowing—including not knowing where Clara was or if she was okay—was killing her.
“Potter? What happened to Donovan?” Eve asked, bringing another mug of coffee over and handing it to her. Faye licked her dry lips and stretched her neck from side to side. The tension in her muscles wouldn’t give.
Here we go. One lie always leads to another.
Last night, she’d decided, while staring in the mirror at her new look and having no real plan, that of all her old friends and acquaintances, Eve would be the only one she could trust. Plus, she lived far enough away to make Faye comfortable...buy her time...for a few days, assuming she was correct in betting her brother-in-law might try to avoid a media fiasco. But even if he didn’t spare a second in coming after her, she figured a small beach town in the middle of winter would be the last place Jim and his buddies in the system might look for her.
It had been almost three years since she’d last seen Eve in person. They had kept in touch over social media during the first year out of college, but the number of interactions and depth of them had dissipated thereafter. Life had a way of doing that. Making a person so busy that they figured when it came to saying hi or checking in on someone, there would always be tomorrow. Well, there was nothing like danger to wake a person up. Tomorrows weren’t always guaranteed. It shouldn’t have taken a crisis to get her to visit an old friend. Plus, Eve had always loved kids. Eve had also volunteered with a group back in college that helped abused women and their children disappear. She’d mentioned it to Faye once, in confidence. But that was years ago. Faye had no idea if Eve still did that sort of thing. To be safe, she wasn’t planning on telling Eve the entire truth. She couldn’t come clean with her, at least not yet. Clara had warned her not to trust anyone. She’d given her sister her word. But Eve still felt like the safest person to hide out with.
She shifted her weight in the chair and adjusted “Nim’s” position on her lap. She needed to start using their new names even in her thoughts. She seriously hated lying. She had decided against changing her own first name because Eve knew her as Faye, but last names were a different game. Keeping her real one would make her too easy to track.
Here it goes. Please forgive me.
“Potter is my married name. I recently got a divorce—a really ugly one—and needed to get away for a while.”
When the sheriff had dropped in unexpectedly, she spotted the entire series of Harry Potter books on a shelf nearby and a new surname was born. It seemed appropriate enough, considering her disguise attempt was as close as she could get to pulling off a magical transfiguration spell.
> “Oh, goodness, Faye. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. When you called last night to say you were coming to visit, I didn’t realize there was more to it.”
You have no idea.
Faye had left her cell phone behind, before picking Mia up. She’d seen enough suspense movies to know credit cards and calls could be traced. Everything had happened so quickly. Even the name Nim had been chosen on the spur of the moment, only seconds after she’d arrived at Castaway Books. One glance at the titles of the children’s books on the shelf behind Eve and she’d introduced her niece with a name inspired by Nim’s Island. It seemed appropriate. She knew the name had to be different. Something short and easy to remember that was close enough to get past Mia. But with the baby’s whining and calling out “Mi,” she was beginning to wonder if she’d made the right choice. In any case, it was too late to change it now. They’d have to get used to Nim. And lying.
“It’s not exactly the sort of thing you call out of the blue to tell someone,” Faye said, cradling Nim. Thank goodness the crying had stopped. Eve crouched down near the chair and held out a small board book for Nim to look at. This time, she actually reached for it.
