Lynn put her elbows on the desk and folded her hands in front of her. The long day had presented every possible annoyance, and the man standing in front of her reflected that. He’d shed his coat, loosened his tie, and run his hands through his hair so many times that it had parted in the middle giving him a rakish look that belied his forty-nine years.
“You’re sure it’s not just politics?”
He made a face. “No. Do you think so? I wasn’t getting this much attention until I started taking Marta around to these meetings.” Lynn heard the beginning of a swear word, but he stopped, looked at her and cleared his throat. “We’re getting a grant in this county to help stop human trafficking, and we’ve done a good initial job. So why are we hitting so many roadblocks now?”
“Perhaps because you’ve taken a stance and a very public one. Bringing Marta, a survivor of sex trafficking, to all these community gatherings and letting her tell her story is really in-your-face. People cannot pretend this doesn’t exist here anymore.”
“I hope,” he said with force. “I sure hope it is. But we have the police, the Sheriff’s Office, a number of judges, and other public figures supporting us. Why trouble now?”
Lynn stared past him. “Let me look through Marta’s file again. Maybe there’s a clue there.” She stretched and stood up. “It’s getting late. I’ll take it home tonight if you don’t mind.”
“You do that.” He turned and walked from her office to his.
She went to her files and pulled out Marta’s folder. Slim. Good. She could hear the volunteers picking up, preparing to leave for the day.
“You have anything extra you need me to do before I leave?”
She glanced up. Larry Jacobs’ form filled the doorway. Being new, he had that extra drive that volunteers have when just starting. His somber countenance went with much of what they handled each day, but she tried to draw a laugh from him now and then. The work’s nature needed to be balanced with lighthearted humor for all their sakes.
“Not today, Larry. In fact, I’m taking some home. It’s quitting time, and we all need to go home and relax.”
His eyes went to the file she held. “I feel I’m accomplishing something when I’m here.”
“And you are. Be sure of that.”
“I heard you and Tom discussing Marta. Anything new there?”
She shook her head. “No. But we aren’t giving up. The Sheriff has his men looking for this guy—the one who held her for so long. So, I hope to hear good news one day.”
“That would be great. Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Right.”
She walked to her desk and picked up her attaché case, shoving Marta’s file down into the middle section. As she zipped it closed, she heard Larry greet someone, and then another voice drifted her way. She winced.
“Yes,” Larry said, “Ms. Stapleton is still here. But I don’t know if she is available. Can I give her your name?”
Lynn stepped to the doorway. “That’s all right, Larry. Detective Richards is always welcome.”
“Did you take training in sarcasm?” the detective asked as she gave him a mocking bow and waved him into her office.
“Some people unleash it more than others. You know it’s quitting time in every office in town, and yet you show up.”
“Such a warm welcome after I treated you to lunch yesterday.”
“And I think I paid for it with a complete list of everything I’ve ever done in my life. I hope you had to type all that into your report.”
“Some of the questions were for personal benefit.”
“Really?” She challenged, not believing him. They’d talked about many things during lunch. He had asked questions about her life, her growing up years, and what she did for entertainment. She’d dropped her guard about halfway through the meal knowing she might regret it later.
“Your prom night escapade was especially interesting.”
Lynn felt herself flush. “I got carried away in the moment.”
“So I understood.”
“I didn’t mean the night of the prom, I meant when I told you…” She stopped as his mouth lifted in a smile. The pause lasted a heartbeat.
“I’m riding out to the homeless camp. I’d like you to come,” he said.
“You mean you haven’t been out there again? What have you been doing?”
“We’ve been twiddling our thumbs.”
Lynn scowled at him. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“This from the woman whose respect for law enforcement is about as much as Daffy Duck’s.”
“All right, I’m sorry. Just surprised that you haven’t been there again and asked the other people about Victoria.”
“Never said I hadn’t, just said I’d like you to come with me today.”
Lynn cringed inside. The memories still surfaced strong and horrifying whenever she had a quiet moment. “If you don’t mind, I really don’t want to go.”
“You’ll be fine. I’ll be with you.”
“Oh, that makes me feel much better. My own personal Sheriff’s escort.”
“There you go with the sarcasm again.” He inspected her. “It could help the investigation. I’d like to look around. I need to know what you saw, what you heard.”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“You might remember something once you’re back there.” His voice changed and took on a different note. “I understand why you don’t want to go, but it could help the investigation. Bella washed away any evidence. We haven’t got a DNA match on Victoria yet, and we’re going nowhere.”
Lynn closed her eyes. Oh, Lord… She swallowed and nodded. She needed to do it for Victoria. “All right, if it will help.”
Three-quarters of the way there, she forced herself to relax enough to admire the navy blue Porsche. He kept it immaculate. When they climbed out, she saw him glance at the mud that clung to the rims.
He caught her look. “It was my grandmother’s car.”
Her mouth opened, but she said nothing.
He stepped aside to let her go first. “Unbelievable—unless you knew my grandmother. She passed away a year ago and left this as part of my inheritance. I’d always loved it.”
“Why do you drive it for work?” Perspiration began to gather under her hair. The car’s air-conditioning had cocooned them on the ride.
He shrugged and swatted at a mosquito. “I love driving it, and I only drive it for routine investigations. Of course, Keith warns me that it might get smashed one day.”
“He could be right.”
The steamy air hung over the woods like a fog. Her ears filled with the hum of mosquitoes, but she breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing looked as it had five days ago. The tightness across her shoulders eased. She walked beside the detective trying to step on dry ground as much as possible. The hurricane had left its mark.
Mud already clung to her high-heels. She shook her head and slid a narrowed glance at Richards. She’d better not ruin her one pair of Jimmy Choo heels.
The homeless group had set up new tents among the trees. Men and women moved among them. Towels and other clothes waved from limbs and ropes drawn tight between the trees. A stack of branches and other debris rose to their left.
She stretched her neck and loosened the muscles. Someone had tidied up. Maybe her dreams wouldn’t be haunted by Victoria’s face after all.
As they approached, a few individuals stopped and gazed in their direction but went back about their business.
“Okay. Can you lead me through your steps, your actions, that day?”
Resistance still played along her spine. “Nothing looks the same.”
“Try.”
“All I know is that I parked farther away than we did today. The road had standing water in areas, so I climbed out on a grassy area and walked this way.” She pointed. “I remember that tree over there. It’s squatty. And the tents around here were all down, clothes and debris scattered everywhere. The place was de
serted.”
“You didn’t hear anything, see anything?”
“No. Well, except for the wind and rain, of course.”
“You saw no one?”
“No.”
He let his gaze move over the area then turned her way. “Someone had either just left or was still here. Look at the trees surrounding this clearing. Anyone could hide behind one. Did you think about that?” He paused a moment, watching her. “You thought murder, didn’t you?”
Lynn shivered. “Yes, I did. I thought her husband…”
“But you didn’t think he might still be here?”
“No, I…was just so horrified, and she was under the tent.” She closed her eyes, remembering. She’d stumbled away at the time, screaming, drawing on every resource she had not to faint, punching at 911 over and over until she hit the right numbers and the call went through. “I didn’t think about that—that he might still be here.”
“The blood was bright red. That didn’t mean anything to you?”
Lynn turned her head away and rubbed her forehead. She shoved the mental picture away. “I didn’t think about it. I’m sorry I’m not a great witness.” Richards said nothing. She took a deep breath and shot him an angry look.
“All right,” he said. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget.”
“Miss Lynn. Miss Lynn.” A female voice reached them.
A woman waved from the doorway of one of the tents. A young girl stood next to her. The woman took a plastic bag from the girl’s hand, and the girl slipped back into the tent.
“Hey, Maria.” Lynn waved in return. When the woman reached them, she gave her a hug. “How are you? Did you make it through the storm okay?”
“Yes. We stayed at the shelter one night, at Miss Sharee’s the next.”
“Sharee’s?” Lynn nodded. “I heard they had a lot of people. Your tent survived? Were you able to salvage anything else?”
“No, we all lost many things. Or…” she swept a glance over the camp, “or things were taken, you know? We have thieves among us.”
And murderers. Lynn thrust the thought aside. “But you have a tent.”
“Yes, the church bought us new ones.”
“Did they?”
“Yes. Pastor Alan and his wife are such nice people. And Sharee gave us the sleeping bags. We are blessed.”
Lynn nodded. “I’m so glad. Maria, this is Detective Richards. Detective, Maria Sanchez.”
“You were here before, yes?”
“Yes. Investigating the murder.”
“It is so sad. Victoria is such a good person.” Maria touched her arm. “You found her, didn’t you, Miss Lynn?”
“Yes.” Victoria’s blood-smeared face flashed like a strobe light across her vision. Her heart constricted, and heat rushed to her face.
Maria touched her arm. “I’m sorry I remind you.”
Lynn nodded, feeling the stickiness over her whole body. The air seemed thick and hard to breathe. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the image and concentrated on inhaling.
Maria glanced down at the bag she carried. “When I saw you get out of the car, I remembered this. Will you give to Sharee for me?”
Hesitant, Lynn reached out her hand. A gift from Maria? Who had so little? Her fingers closed around the straps. An ache tightened her chest. Many of the people she’d met here were giving and warm, opposite from all the things she’d heard. Just as Victoria had been… She swallowed hard and swayed.
Richards grabbed her arm. “Are you okay?”
Maria’s eyes were round. “You come into the tent and get a drink.”
Lynn stood still. Light and dark spots flashed before her eyes. Cold chills spread to her limbs. Rich’s hand tightened.
“Thanks,” he said, “but I’ll take her back to the car and get the air going.”
Maria’s head bobbed up and down, her concern evident.
He glanced at Lynn. “Is it the heat?”
“I…I just need to sit somewhere.” She blinked her eyes. The strobe light vision hit again, and she forced the waves of nausea down. “Thank you, Maria. I guess we’ll go.”
“This way.” Richard’s voice had the sudden vibration of authority. He took the bag from her hand and led her back to the Porsche. The car’s locks clicked.
“Sit down. I’ll get the air going.”
The hundred-plus heat from the car hit her, and she recoiled.
His fingers tightened on her arm. “Believe me, you don’t want to fall here. Sit on the edge of the seat. Leave the door open a minute.”
He slipped in on the other side, started the engine, and the air-conditioning blew hot air toward her. “It’ll be better soon.”
Lynn said nothing. The world spun. She could feel the heat from the leather through her thin slacks. She closed her eyes, waiting for the cool. A minute later, she heard his door close.
“Close your door now. Put on your seatbelt. Do you need something to drink?”
“That…would help.”
The car backed and then swung toward the highway. “Okay. When did you eat last?”
She turned her head, but his image wove in and out like heat rising from the desert. She blinked. Things began to focus. “I had some cheese and carrots for lunch, at my desk.” Her tongue felt thick.
“That sounds like a hearty meal.” He approached the main highway and made a left-hand turn.
“Hey, we’re going the wrong way.”
“I’ll find you something to drink, but lunch was a while ago for me, and yours was non-existent. I’m hungry. Aren’t you?”
“But…”
“There’s a good restaurant down the road.” When she said nothing, his eyes slid from the road to her face. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“You know,” she shook her head, swallowed around her tongue. “I still can’t understand how Victoria could marry such a brute. She seemed too intelligent for that.”
Richards sent her an ironic smile. “Abusers come in all classes, intelligent or not, wealthy or not. Doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t believe half of what I’ve seen.”
She gave a long sigh. “No, I guess I wouldn’t.” Quiet settled between them. The tires hummed. “How do you stand it?”
“The people or the job?”
“Both.”
“Well, I like to think I’m helping. And when things really get tough, there’s God.”
“God?” Startled, her eyes swung to his face.
“I figure he has a plan and a purpose, although I don’t go much beyond that.”
“Are you a Christian?”
“Yes.”
She tried not to stare but saw his mouth curl. “I’m sorry. It’s just…”
“Cop and Christian don’t go together? Or is it Rich and Christian?”
“I didn’t mean that.” She stopped. What did she mean?
“I’m not much of a church-goer. I keep crazy hours, and I’ve arrested too many church people.”
“Not all that go to church are believers or are following Him.”
“That’s the problem. People say one thing; do another.”
“You know that personally?”
His gaze slid from the road again. He said nothing for a moment. “A year ago, your church was in the middle of an investigation.”
Lynn felt her hackles rise. “I know, but that person only pretended to be a Christian.”
“And the other characters there?”
She shrugged then threw him a smile. “We have our quota, I guess. But we have good people, too, like Sharee and John, Pastor Alan and Daneen, and others.” When he nodded, she said, “But trusting what Jesus did to remove our sins doesn’t make us perfect. No one’s perfect. Not even you.”
His mouth quirked. “You’re feeling better.”
“What? Oh, I…yes.”
“So why go to church?”
“Because it’s a place where you can be encouraged, you can hear a
bout God, hear his Word. And it’s family. Sometimes, it’s more family than your own.”
“Speaking from experience?”
She wrinkled her nose. He hadn’t answered her question but asked her almost the same one.
“Yes.” Lynn stared out the window, watching the strip shops pass by as they headed north. “Yes, especially true when you’re the only believer in your family.”
“That’s tough.” The words held feeling. “So, when did you become a Christian?”
“At sixteen. I went to youth group with some friends that invited me.”
He nodded. “Youth groups get a lot of kids and get their lives turned around. Wish the kids stuck with it through college. Many don’t. It would keep them out of trouble—for the most part.”
Lynn didn’t reply for a minute. She cleared her throat. “I led Victoria to the Lord.”
His head turned. “You did?”
“A week before she died.”
Quiet filled the car. She felt his hand on hers, a featherlike touch. “I’m sorry.” He paused for a moment. “It makes sense now. She was more than a friend.”
“Yes.” Lynn settled her head back against the headrest.
Led her to you, Lord, and you took her. No. No, that didn’t feel quite right. But you allowed it. Why? She drew a long breath, moved her head and stared out the window. If it’s all the same to you, Father, I’d like to have something to do with bringing her murderer to justice.
A moment later, she straightened and threw a look in Rich’s direction. “How far is this place you’re taking me to?”
“Another ten minutes. Can you last that long?”
She ran her fingers through her hair, feeling stronger with each mile. She straightened, having a sudden desire for a comb and a mirror. “Yes, but we’ve passed a dozen places already.”
“Hmmm…” He didn’t speak for a moment. “I’m taking you to a place where we most likely won’t be recognized.”
“What? Why?”
“You’re part of the investigation, and it might not look right if we were out together.”
Her brows rose as she turned to look at him. “Then what are you doing?”
“You haven’t had dinner. Neither have I.” He looked her way. “I don’t want you fainting on me again.”
“Again? I didn’t faint. I just, uh…” She stopped, glanced out the window, then turned back to see him grinning. “Okay. Have it your way. Are you going to order for me again?”
Splashdown: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 3) Page 5
