“It’s for Trevor.”
He paused with his back toward her. He turned and handed her a card. “Call my office.”
He stormed toward a car waiting in a parking lot across the street. A maroon sedan, for that matter. Hadn’t the painters mentioned a maroon sedan had been parked in front of her dad’s place the day before he died?
Daleigh stared at the figure inside.
Was that . . . Chuck Arnold?
***
Daleigh filled Ryan in on her day as they drove to Henry’s house for dinner. She had a feeling she was getting closer to finding the truth, a thought that both thrilled and scared her. Sometimes, the truth wasn’t pretty and you wished you didn’t know. She wasn’t going to let that stop her, however.
She told him about the maroon sedan and the benefit concert. She’d also told him about Patricia’s call. Ryan agreed to go with Daleigh to meet Patricia since Daleigh’s car was totaled from the crash.
They pulled up to a brick house located on the Perquimans. Unlike Ryan’s house, this one was new and stately with a well-manicured yard and a modern exterior. A second, smaller house stood behind the main lodging. An in-law suite, perhaps?
“Nice,” Ryan muttered.
“This your first time here?”
“It is.”
“I didn’t realize pharmacists made so much money.”
“Henry’s got family money. I seem to remember that his dad was a logger. This is the old family property. I heard Henry had this place built a few years back. In a strange twist, Thorn Alligood’s house is located the next property over. Of course, it’s separated by acres of woods and swampland. I just think it’s funny that the two men running for mayor are neighbors.”
“Ironic, by all means. I’m beginning to think that everyone around here lives on the water.”
“If they have the choice, they do.”
“You ready?” Daleigh nodded toward the house.
His fingers intertwined with hers. “Let’s go.”
They knocked at the door, and Henry opened it a few minutes later with a wide grin. Daleigh could see why her dad liked the man. He was smart and friendly and had a down-home sensibility about him. “Come in, come in.”
They stepped into a home decorated in a hunter’s motif. Deer heads, stuffed wild cats, antlers, and other animal parts filled the walls and hunter camouflage blankets rested on the backs of leather couches and recliners.
Henry followed her gaze. “It’s a bit of a bachelor pad. We just had it built before my wife decided to leave me for an old high school boyfriend. Unfortunately, she wasn’t here to help me decorate. I did the best I could.”
“I didn’t realize you liked to hunt,” Daleigh said. She’d seen him more as a quiet thinker who played dominoes and had friendly debates in the café.
“Nothing I’d rather be doing than hunting. Spend a lot of time in those woods beside my house. Even have an old hunting cabin that goes back generations out there and several deer stands.” He motioned for them to follow him through the kitchen. “Now, enough talk about that. It’s a lovely evening. How do you feel about eating on the deck? The mosquitoes aren’t too bad yet. In the summer, they might just carry you away.”
“Outside sounds lovely.” Daleigh stepped onto an expansive deck with the perfect view of the river. They made themselves comfortable in plush patio chairs while the scent of chicken grilling filled the air. “You should have let me bring something.”
Henry checked on the food, flipping over a thigh with oversized tongs. “Nonsense. You just won’t get anything too fancy. I picked up potato salad from The Bulkhead, along with some fruit and rolls. It’s easy that way.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“How are you doing, Daleigh?” he asked. “Are you holding up okay?”
“About as well as to be expected. I don’t think everything has sunk in yet.”
“It takes awhile, that’s for sure.”
Daleigh stared at the woods beyond the house as she mulled over the thought. She still had trouble thinking about life ever feeling normal again, not without her dad. She cleared her throat, deciding to change the subject. “So, how much land do you own exactly, Henry?”
He closed the grill and came to sit across from them. “About ten acres. Family land. Developers have approached me about buying the real estate to build some ritzy neighborhood. I’ve always said no thank you. Some things are more important than money.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Daleigh muttered.
He raised his glass. “Speaking of which, you’re always welcome to come stay here when you’re in town. I have plenty of space in the house out back. I know you usually stay with your sister, but if you need a change of pace or decide to bring your band with you, there’s room here. My wife and I always envisioned using our property to host people passing through town, whether they’re visiting missionaries, college exchange students. We never saw that come to fruition, but the offer stands.”
“I appreciate the offer.” If things continued the way they were going between her and her sister, she might have to seriously consider his invitation.
Henry’s gaze focused on her, a new seriousness overcoming his features. “Have you found any answers about your father’s death, Daleigh? I know you’ve been concerned.”
She shook her head. “No, not really. I just keep reaching dead ends.”
“Did you talk to Chuck?”
She nodded. “I did. Nothing. He was very hostile, but that doesn’t mean he’s guilty of murder.”
“And Thorn?”
“Again, he’s unfriendly but capable of murder? I don’t know.” She looked off in the distance at the moon as it reflected on the water. “I keep wondering if his death had something to do with the river.”
Henry shifted. “Why would you think that?”
“I know my dad spent a lot of time fishing in the weeks before he died. And more than one person has told me that they think something strange is going on at night.” She leaned closer. “Do you have any idea what it might be?”
“I sit out here a lot at night and watch the river.”
Ryan set his drink down. “Has there been a lot of activity after the sun sets?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Some fishermen do prefer the night. I guess it helps them to avoid game wardens. Some of them say the fish are easier to catch. Some people, that’s the only time their wives will let them out of the house.” He chuckled.
Ryan nodded toward the water. “Now that I think about it, we do have some interesting phenomenon here on the water on occasion. Gases form out of the swamp and look like big, electrified balls of light floating in the air. We had a TV station out here doing a big report on them once. It was all the talk of the town. I think that special just aired a few weeks back. Maybe we have some crazy tourists coming out hoping to see something.”
Daleigh nodded, realizing that would make sense. “Anything is a possibility, I suppose.”
Suddenly, a scream cut through the night. Shivers raced through Daleigh’s muscles before they went rigid.
That was a woman. A woman screaming.
From somewhere in the woods surrounding Henry’s property.
***
Ryan stood. Adrenaline surged through him at the sound of the woman screaming. What was going on out in those woods? “Someone needs help.”
Henry’s face went white. He stood, took a step toward the edge of the deck, but stopped. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket. “I’m calling the police.”
“They won’t get here in time,” Daleigh said. Her voice sounded as tight as her muscles looked. Her arms were pulled over her chest, and her jaw appeared locked in place.
Henry shook his head. “RJ will. I asked him to stop by to drop off something for me. He’s supposed to be here any minute.”
Henry stepped away from them and mumbled into the phone. A moment later, he turned toward them. “He’s pulling into the drive now.”
&nbs
p; Just then another scream pierced the air, followed by “Help me!”
Daleigh’s face went pale beside him. What was going on? That was the question.
Ryan could hardly keep himself on the deck.
RJ rushed up the back steps, still in his police uniform. “I just heard it, too. I’m going to go check it out.”
Ryan stepped forward. “I’m going with you.”
RJ shook his head. “You don’t know these woods like I do.”
“I don’t really care. Someone needs help. I’m not going to sit around and do nothing.”
RJ finally nodded. “You take the north side of the woods, I’ll get the south. Little creeks run through that area. You can get stuck in mud as thick as quicksand if you’re not careful.”
“Be careful,” Daleigh muttered as Ryan stepped off the deck.
He nodded to her before taking off toward the tree line.
How far away had that scream come from? All the way from Thorn’s property? Could this have something to do with those mysterious boats people had been seeing in the area?
As Ryan reached the woods, he stepped onto the soft ground, filled with swampy recesses and spongy underbrush. He listened for another telltale sound that would give him an indication as to where to go. He heard nothing. Cautiously, he pushed deeper into the woods.
He sidestepped thorny underbrush and avoided patches of murky water. He didn’t hear the scream again. Where had it come from? What was happening?
He finally reached the edge of the woods. A house stood in the distance. Thorn’s house. All the lights at the man’s massive home were off, as if no one was there. Ryan knew that he had a second home on the Outer Banks, about an hour’s drive from here.
Had the screams come from his house? Ryan doubted they would have carried all the way to Henry’s.
He didn’t know what was going on, but he did know that someone was up to no good.
***
“I hope they’re all right.” Daleigh rubbed her arms, warding away a chill that had settled on her ever since she heard the scream. She leaned against the railing of the deck, watching for a sign of Ryan returning.
Henry stood beside her. Worry lined his face as well. Daleigh was glad he’d chosen not to venture into the woods tonight. Even if he was a hunter, he didn’t have youth on his side like Ryan and RJ.
“They’re tough boys. Country bred, not like those city folks in Nashville.”
“There are lots of country boys there, too. Believe me.” She rubbed her arms again. “It’s a good thing RJ was close by.”
Henry peered at her. “You did know he’s my son, didn’t you?”
Daleigh blinked. “I had no idea.”
“Yep, he’s my one and only. I’m hoping to give him a piece of my land so he can build himself a home one day, whenever he’s ready to settle down.”
“It seems like everyone in Hertford is related.” Funny that Henry was RJ’s dad. Daleigh had first met the police officer when the journals disappeared from her house, but she’d recognized him from The Bulkhead. The officer had been seated at a table behind them.
A boat trolled by on the water. It was larger than most that Daleigh had seen, bigger than the average fishing vessel. She turned to Henry. “Should we stop them? Maybe they know something about the scream we heard?”
A man on board waved at them. Henry motioned back and shook his head. “If they were up to no good, I doubt they’d be waving right now, Daleigh. They’d be getting out of here as fast as they could.”
She conceded his point and paced for another several minutes, wondering exactly what was going on out there. Was Ryan hurt? Did he need help? Was there anything else she should be doing?
Finally, she turned to Henry. “Maybe I should go—”
“Don’t even think about it. We have no idea what’s going on out there. Those woods are no place for a young woman like you. There are snakes, bears. I’ve seen a wildcat on occasion.”
Finally, someone appeared from the tree line. Ryan. It was Ryan.
She resisted the urge to run across the lawn to meet him. But her fingers dug into the wood beneath them as she waited for him to reach the deck.
As soon as he took the first step toward her, her hands went to his biceps. “Are you okay? Did you find anything?”
Ryan shook his head. “I didn’t find anyone or hear a thing. Maybe RJ had better luck.”
Her head dropped toward her chest as the mystery involving her dad’s death only grew deeper and blacker, just like the river in the distance.
Her time was running out. Would she ever figure out who killed her father or what kind of crimes were taking place in this sleepy town?
Chapter Nineteen
Daleigh hadn’t gotten home the night before until well past midnight. RJ had finally made his way back to Henry’s house, only to tell them he’d discovered nothing, so the mystery of the screaming woman remained. The best Henry and RJ could offer was that perhaps it was a fox, which could make a screeching sound at times.
Daleigh had felt exhausted and slightly overwhelmed. Unease lined Ryan’s face as well as he’d told her good night. She could tell that he was worried about her when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a long, warm hug. He’d gently kissed her goodbye and slipped away to his truck.
When Daleigh looked out her front window the next morning, she saw Ryan’s truck still parked outside on the street. She shook her head. He’d spent all night out there, no doubt trying to keep an eye on her. It was incredibly sweet of him.
She got dressed, charged across the grass, and knocked on his window. He jolted upright, his dazed eyes finally coming to rest on her. He rolled his window down.
“Hey there,” he muttered.
“What are you doing out here?”
He shrugged. “Enjoying the view.”
Her lip curled in a smile. “I appreciate this, but you didn’t have to. You’re going to be exhausted today.”
“I’ll take exhaustion if I can have some peace of mind.”
“Do you want some coffee?”
He shook his head. “I need to go home and get changed anyway. But thank you. Another time.”
“Are we still on for lunch?”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t miss it. Listen, I was thinking we could take my boat. It’s a beautiful day and the restaurant is on the waterfront.”
“That sounds perfect. Thank you.”
Daleigh spent the rest of the morning talking with the woman heading up the benefit concert. They confirmed the date for the following Saturday—just a little more than a week away. The organizer, Patti Lynn, said she thought it was enough time to get everything done. She’d already begun to make posters that she’d plaster around town, and the city had approved their venue: a waterfront park.
Daleigh called a few musician friends who’d been on tour with her before and asked them to play. One by one, they each told her that Vince had just asked them to play at an event on the very same day. By the time she hung up with the last person on her list, she was fuming.
Vince had done this on purpose. She’d mentioned the concert, and he’d probably called her band and made some kind of subtle threat to make sure she’d fly solo. It was his way of teaching her a lesson. She stared at the phone, pushing back her desire to call the man and give him a piece of her mind.
Before she could do that, someone knocked at her door and a fit of giggles sounded outside. Her nieces. “Will you play with us, Aunt Daleigh?”
“I’d love to!”
She chased the girls in the front yard for a while. Then they asked her to come inside and paint their nails. She’d put the final pink tip on Clara’s little finger when something across the room caught her eye.
She gravitated toward a bookshelf in the living room. Once there, she pulled out some jeweled cases.
Daleigh’s CDs.
Hannah had all three of them.
What sense did that make? Daleigh had always thought t
hat Hannah hated her music. All these years, could she have been . . . wrong?
She shook her head, realizing she didn’t have time to ponder it now. She had to meet Ryan. Maybe Patricia would have some insight that would blow open this whole mystery.
***
Under Ryan’s direction, Daleigh helped Ryan launch the boat into the murky water. Once he climbed in, he held out his hand to Daleigh. Strong, callused fingers grasped her own as she lowered herself inside. Part of her didn’t want to let go of the strength she found in the simple touch.
She settled into a padded seat at the back and watched as Ryan maneuvered the boat into the river. Moments later, they were cruising through the water. The wind blew at her face, taking her cares with it.
The boat glided along. Once she got used to the swamp-like water at the river’s edge, it seemed more fascinating than creepy, she realized. This was definitely something she wouldn’t find in Nashville.
Ryan shifted the boat into a lower gear and leaned back toward Daleigh. “You really want a taste for this area I’ll have to take you out in the Great Dismal Swamp.”
“The Great Dismal Swamp?”
“The swamp used to be a part of the Underground Railroad,” he said. “Slaves would live in what researchers called ‘maroon communities,’ which means they found whatever dry land they could and hid out there. It was the perfect place because no one wanted to venture into the swamp to find them.”
The swampland would be the perfect place to hide out, she mused. Why did that seem important to her? Like it could be a piece of this puzzle? “How do you know all of this?”
Ryan grinned. “Your father told me.”
As much as she tried to put aside the questions in her mind, they attacked and wouldn’t let her get away. “So, he was studying the swamp?” she shouted over the hum of the motor.
“It seemed your father was studying any and every thing.”
Home Before Dark (Christian Romantic Suspense) (Carolina Moon Book 1) Page 16
