Splashdown: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 3)

by Linda K. Rodante

  “I know.” A moment later, her breath brushed warm across his chin. “I’ll miss the mountains. Our honeymoon was wonderful.”

  He said nothing for a moment. An image of her at the cabin filled his mind. He slipped an arm under her waist and drew her against him. “Yeah, it was.”

  “I love you.”

  He grunted. “Next time…wait until we can talk, will you?”

  “I will. I promise.”

  Quiet settled between them. Minutes ticked past. His muscles relaxed. Maybe now…now that she admitted to not thinking things through…maybe she would listen to him about the other.

  The silence lengthened, comfortable. With his anger gone and her curled warmth beside him, he began to doze.

  “John?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Lynn didn’t come by today, and she didn’t call.”

  He thrust himself from the edge of sleep. “You got a text from her yesterday.”

  “Just saying she was at a shelter and okay. Can you imagine Lynn at a shelter?”

  Amusement touched him, but he said nothing. Drowsiness fought with her voice.

  “I’m worried. They’re not letting anyone back on the beach until tomorrow. She can’t go to her condo.”

  He forced another comment. “She’s a big girl. She’ll find a hotel.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  He tried once more to rouse himself, but the last thing he remembered was her whispered prayers.

  Chapter 5

  Lynn pulled her Gucci handbag from the Lexus, rested one hand on the car’s hood, and thought about the last seventy-two hours. When she’d finally called Sharee this morning, she’d lost the little control she’d held onto for the last three days.

  “Lynn! Where are you? Why didn’t you call?”

  The worry in Sharee’s voice caused Lynn to cringe. “I was going to. I meant to.”

  “Do you know how worried I’ve been? Deputy Richards called earlier looking for you. He said Victoria was dead. Lynn…He said you found her.”

  “I…I…” And the tears came.

  “Oh, Lynn. You should have come here.”

  “I know. I…” She sobbed. “I knew this would happen.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with crying. It’s horrible.”

  “I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to run, so I went to a shelter. No one knew me. It’s what I needed. I still want to run, but I can’t.”

  “No, you can’t. Listen, Deputy Richards didn’t sound too happy when he found out you weren’t here.”

  “I bet he didn’t. He’s a detective now, Sharee.”

  “I know, but you need to call him, then call me back or, better, come over.”

  “Okay. I will. Oops. Someone’s ringing in…It’s him. Let me get it.”

  “Call back.”

  “I will.” Lynn took a deep breath and clicked over. “Hello?”

  “Well, hello, Ms. Stapleton. I’m glad I got you. I tried Mrs. Jergenson, as you said, but she hadn’t seen you.”

  Geez. The tone of the detective’s voice bordered on cold to suspicious. “I know. I—”

  “And she had no idea where you were. Perhaps you’d like to tell me where you were.”

  She blew out a breath. “The streets were flooded, Detective. I decided to go to the closest shelter.”

  “And that was?”

  She told him.

  “We still need to meet and finish our conversation from the other day.”

  Her stomach tightened. “I know.”

  “Do you want to come to—“

  “No. No, we can meet at Sharee’s. After lunch.”

  “At the address you gave me before? You’re going to be there?”

  “Yes. I promise I’ll be there.”

  He said nothing for a moment. “I take it your promise is better than your word.”

  She blew out a breath. “My word is good, too. I…I just had a hard time the other day. I’ll be at Sharee’s.”

  “I hope that’s true. Around one then?”

  She gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

  As she’d clicked off the phone, she’d lifted a prayer to heaven. Lord, please get me through this. They need to catch the man who did this. I’ll do what I need to do. I just need your help.

  Now, she pulled the purse’s strap to her shoulder and started up the walk. Her eyes focused on the house. It sat away from the church, a large field behind it, and a larger tree-studded lot to its right. Lynn could see Bella’s footprint all over—downed tree limbs and scattered debris. Evidently, John’s own cleanup would wait until he finished helping others.

  He’d built the home almost single-handedly, but with supplies from the church. A missionary home, their pastor had informed the congregation, because John and Sharee felt called to go to Indonesia. While they were out of the country, other missionaries would have a place to stay.

  Her eyes flicked back to the house, her heart squeezing. What a great thing they were doing. She’d miss them both when they left—more than miss them. God, what do you have for me? I know you have something. It can’t be to stay involved in politics, can it?

  When she knocked, Sharee yanked open the door and pulled her into a hug. “I can’t believe this. I am so sorry.”

  Lynn swallowed hard. “Me, too.”

  “I knew something was wrong. I just had no idea… It’s still a shock.” She paused. “I was worried about you.”

  “I know. I just needed time alone.”

  Sharee drew back, tilting her head, studying her. “It’s probably a good thing you got a motel room last night. We were a little packed.”

  “Oh?”

  “We had some of the homeless here—inside and out.”

  “And everyone’s gone now?”

  “You know how it is. They like to get on the road early.”

  Lynn nodded but dropped her head.

  “Lynn.”

  She pushed the darkness away. “John must have loved that.”

  “It did surprise him, but he was okay with it.”

  Lynn lifted her head and gave a wicked smile. “You’re still newlyweds. You didn’t need a house full of guests.”

  “Nine months is not newlywed.”

  Lynn tilted her head at her. “Don’t try to convince me. I see you weekly, remember? Where’s the dog?”

  “John took him to Lisa and Stephen’s. Thank goodness. It’s nice not to have him underfoot.”

  “You and the dog will hit it off someday.”

  “Uh huh.”

  Lynn smiled. “You will. What’s up at Lisa’s?”

  “They’re putting on a new roof. All the professionals are busy after the hurricane. Lisa said that when Stephen called around, he was informed it would be up to a month before anyone got to them. So, John put a crew together, and they’re going over to put a roof on.”

  Lynn shook her head. “Well, they’ve got the best then.”

  Sharee beamed. “I won’t tell him you said that, but you know I think you’re right.”

  “Girlfriend, you are too happy with that man.”

  Sharee laughed. “I think I am, but what can I do?”

  Lynn shook her head, turned and stared out the bay window to the street. Silence settled.

  Sharee touched her shoulder. “It must have been horrible.”

  Lynn stayed fixed on the street. “It was. So…much blood. It’s hard to believe she’s gone.”

  Sharee hugged her from behind. “That’s why you’re meeting with the detectives. To see if you know anything that can help them.”

  “Thank you for letting us meet here. I wanted someone with me. And besides, you knew her, too.”

  “Yes, just in a different way.”

  “It was strange, she and I becoming friends.” Lynn fought back the tears. “Maybe I should have done more, pushed her to open up more.”

  “Don’t do that. This is not your fault. You…” Her voice trailed off. “Is that them, do you think?”
<
br />   Lynn lifted her head and stared out the bay window. A dark blue Porsche had pulled to the curb behind Lynn’s Lexus. Two men stepped out. Both stood for a moment looking toward the house, and then the driver leaned back into the front seat, grabbed something, and shut the door. His eyes went from one side of the house to the other.

  “A Porsche?” Lynn raised an eyebrow.

  “Wow. Does the front of my house look good now or what? A Lexus and a Porsche.” Sharee headed for the front door.

  When she opened it, Detective Richards stepped inside, followed by the other man. Lynn eased back into the room. Both men were tall, with dark suits, crisp white shirts, and conservative ties.

  Sharee put her hand out in greeting. “Deputy…I mean Detective Richards, it’s good to see you again.”

  The man shook her hand, a smile highlighting deep blue eyes. “I understand you have a new title, too.”

  “I do. The Mrs. title.” She grinned. “John’s helping some friends with their roof, or he would have been here to greet you.”

  The smile continued, but the blue eyes focused on Lynn. She stiffened as his eyes changed from warm to contemplative. He waved at the other man. “This is Detective Keith Carpenter, my partner. Can we sit someplace?”

  Sharee indicated the chairs across from the sofa. She sat next to Lynn. Detective Richards settled on a chair, but Keith Carpenter moved away and leaned against a wall. Auburn hair and light green eyes set him apart from Richards’ black hair, blue eyes.

  Richards took out a little notebook before raising his eyes to meet Lynn’s again. He pinned her with a questioning gaze.

  Lynn’s stomach clenched. She pulled her waist-length hair over one shoulder. Silence settled in the room.

  Sharee cleared her throat. “Lynn asked me to join her during the interview if that’s okay. We both knew Victoria. She thought maybe I could help.”

  “If Ms. Stapleton wants you here, that’s fine for now. It’s nice to see you both made it through the hurricane, although the last time I talked with Ms. Stapleton, she said she would be staying with you.”

  Lynn forced herself not to move. “I told you the streets were flooded. I went where I could.”

  “All right. Can we start at the beginning again then? Tell me why were you looking for Victoria, and what made you go to the homeless camp?”

  Lynn clasped her hands in her lap. She forced the bloody image to the back of her mind and sent Sharee a quick glance before turning to the man across from her.

  “I was looking for Victoria. I wanted her to come stay with me—at a hotel or someplace safe during the storm. I called the shelters, but she wasn’t registered at any, so I …I drove to the woods off US 19. The homeless have…had…a tent city there, but when I got there, no one was there. At least, I couldn’t see anyone. A few tents in the back were still up, so I thought someone could be there.” She stopped and swallowed. “I got out to look and I…I stepped on something under one of the fallen tents. I thought it was a bundle of clothes, but when I pulled back the tent corner, I…”

  Quiet settled over the room. Sharee leaned over. “Lynn.”

  Lynn closed her eyes. “There was blood. A face and shoulders. Hair and blood.” When she opened her eyes again, Richards leaned forward.

  “And you recognized her?”

  “No. No, I…” Lynn paused, remembering the horrified, jumbled thoughts that had flashed through her mind. Blood and hair were all she saw, but she’d known, as if God had directed her there. The whole heaviness of the day had culminated at that point. She’d made the call, knowing all the time it must be Victoria. “But I knew.”

  “You did?”

  “You know how you can know without knowing?” He didn’t answer, and after a minute, she said, “Like a premonition?”

  He wrote in the small book he’d brought before looking at her again. “Usually, if you have a premonition it’s because you have some knowledge that something might happen, even unconsciously. Is there a reason you would expect the dead body to be Victoria Lawson?”

  Lynn glanced at Sharee, who nodded. “We both knew that Victoria was hiding from her husband.”

  Carpenter straightened, and Richards frowned. “You didn’t mention that the other day.”

  “I…I thought about it, but…well, it was hearsay and I…”

  “This is an investigation, not a courtroom.” His voice sharpened. “We need all the information you have. Because of the storm and not being able to finish this interview, the investigation is now three days old.”

  “I know. I…I was shocked. I just wanted to get away and think.”

  “You wanted to think?” The sharpness hadn’t abated. “About what?”

  “I don’t know. I was upset.”

  “Aren’t you interested in catching the person who did this?”

  “Of course, I am.” Lynn matched his frown. “Victoria was my friend.”

  “Yet you didn’t think it important to mention the deceased was hiding from her husband? Or why?”

  “I didn’t…I…” She shifted on the sofa. “Well, forgive me if I made a mistake.”

  His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

  “You think, because you deal with murder every day, that I should be as cold and unmoved as you are. I wasn’t.” Lynn glared at him. “I wanted to get as far away as possible.”

  “Tell me why you were looking for Lawson.”

  “I just told you.”

  “I’d like to hear it again. Perhaps you left something else out.”

  Lynn clenched her fists. The man was badgering her. She hadn’t thought about the husband then, hadn’t realized she’d be stuck at the shelter for two nights. All she’d thought about was getting away. “I couldn’t get in touch with her, so I drove out to the woods.”

  “You were so concerned about this homeless person that you went to find her with a hurricane coming?”

  “Just because she’s homeless doesn’t mean she’s not worth something.”

  The detective straightened. “I’m not saying that. How did you know her, and how well did you know her?”

  “I knew her through Sharee.”

  His eyes flicked to Sharee and back. “You work with Mrs. Jergenson?”

  Lynn sat back on the sofa. “No.”

  “No? So, how did you know the deceased?”

  “Through Sharee.” Why did he keep asking the same questions? Was the man trying to irritate her?

  The other detective leaned away from the wall. “You don’t work with Mrs. Jergenson. Where do you work?”

  “At Representative McCloud’s office. I’m his Administrative Assistant.”

  Both men eyed her in silence for a moment. Detective Carpenter chuckled.

  “What?” Lynn asked. “You don’t like his politics?”

  Neither man said anything. Richards wrote in his book again. “How did you know where this tent city was?”

  “Sharee has taken me there a few times.”

  His head moved in Sharee’s direction. “You still work for Downtown Ministries?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me about Victoria Lawson.”

  “Victoria’s husband abused her.” Lynn interrupted. “Physically. She was running for her life.”

  His head swung back her way. “She said that?”

  “Yes. I picked up Sharee from work one day when her car was in the shop. Victoria came into the office, and she shared the whole thing with us.”

  The detective’s focus shifted to Sharee. “She said specifically that her husband abused her?”

  Sharee sat forward. “Yes. Most of the homeless share their stories sooner or later. Victoria said she’d run away when her husband threatened to kill her. He…he has friends in law enforcement, so the only place where he might not find her was among the homeless. Or at least that’s what she thought.”

  “How long had she been here?”

  “Not long. Just a couple of weeks. At first, she asked lots of questions
, but then she kind of settled in.”

  “Questions? About what?”

  “Just about others in the camp. She was nervous, I think. Anyway, she had questions about the other people that were there.”

  “Anything specific?”

  “We talked about the children a lot. She felt sorry for them and wondered if any were alone.”

  “Were they?”

  “Some come and go, but mostly they’re with family. If they are alone, when we go there, they hide. They don’t want to end up in the system.”

  “Did she have anything else to say about her husband or anyone else she was afraid of?”

  “She asked us not to give her information to anyone, which we don’t anyway.”

  “Did she show you a picture of her husband?”

  “No. She said he would hire someone to look for her.” Sharee glanced at Lynn. “She and Lynn hit it off.”

  Lynn nodded. “She liked to get her mind off her situation, I think. She asked a lot about my job and what was going on there.”

  “There’s no missing person report for a Victoria Lawson.”

  Sharee sat forward. “That’s not surprising. Many of the homeless give us fictitious names. Sometimes we’re not sure they even remember their real name.”

  Lynn drew an impatient breath. “Her husband wouldn’t file one anyway. She was running because he’d beaten her up and threatened to kill her. Which he did.”

  The detective’s eyes bored into hers. “The deceased’s injuries were from blunt force trauma. In a hurricane, that might not indicate murder.”

  Lynn narrowed her eyes. “I was told it was murder.”

  “No, Ms. Stapleton, you told the deputy on the scene it was murder.”

  “That’s not true.”

  His eyes darkened. “Not only is that true, but as soon as he arrived, you said you knew who the victim was.”

  Chapter 6

  A day later, John dropped the last fence post into the hole he’d dug. Pedro Gonzalez filled it with wet cement. They shoveled sand around it. When both men stood back, their eyes followed the line of fence posts down the edge of the church property, past the pond and stand of cypress.

  John nodded. Back-breaking work, but they’d needed to do it today before the earth dried again. The damp earth made for easier digging than sandy soil that kept falling in on itself. Now the worst was done—like the hurricane. Three days ago, he fought its fury to get to Sharee, and now just a mild wind remained.