Treasure Point Secrets

by Sarah Varland

  “Stop.”

  Adam’s firm grip on her arm was nothing like the gentle touch from earlier.

  She spun her head to look at him. “What?” She heard the snap in her tone but couldn’t stop it.

  He said nothing, just pointed to the car. She followed with her eyes.

  Several of the windows were smashed in. The tires had been viciously sliced. And spray-painted across the front window were the words “Forget the past,” and on the rear window were the words “or end up like your cousin.”

  The dizziness that overtook her had nothing to do with the heat or the fact that she’d skipped breakfast. As Shiloh fought to regain control over her body, Adam didn’t let go of her arm. He stood still and steadied her. He was there for her, solid in the middle of circumstances that made her feel as if she’d waded deep into south Georgia quicksand and was being sucked in whole.

  “I’d better call the chief.” She pulled herself away from Adam, already missing his strength.

  “Chief? This is Officer Evans,” she said into her cell phone, not wanting to bother with dispatch when this was a situation the chief needed to know about directly. She hardly recognized the voice as hers. Inside she was shaking and scared out of her mind, but outside she was capable. Confident.

  She didn’t want the men who were after her to see how she really felt.

  “Is there trouble?”

  “Yes. I’m over near Hamilton Point, on the edge of my patrol area. I wanted to make sure there was no sign of prowlers using the coastal trails to get to the widow’s house.”

  “And you found a sign?”

  She swallowed hard. “Yes. I did. But I’m calling to tell you I need backup. My car’s been vandalized, and the warning on it says we better take this seriously.”

  “I’ll have men there in five minutes.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Shiloh slid the phone back into its holster, letting her right hand rest on the grip of her gun.

  “You really think you’re going to need it?”

  Adam’s calm question grated on her. “If I didn’t, would I carry it at all? It’s better to be prepared.”

  He shrugged. “Couldn’t what happened to the car be a simple case of vandalism?”

  “With the mention of Annie?”

  “But the rest doesn’t make any sense. ‘Forget the past’?”

  Shiloh’s heartbeat quickened as she thought back to the case that had cost Annie her life. She’d been so hesitant to get involved herself and wouldn’t have if her cousin hadn’t desperately needed someone she could trust to help find answers, to keep the case confidential. Because of that Shiloh had decided that the fewer people who knew about it, the better. Had she really never told Adam, who had been her fiancé, what she’d been up to?

  “It’s a lot to explain.”

  “I have time.”

  She shook her head. “Not now. I have to focus on everything around us, keep my head in the game. I can’t do that if we talk about Savannah.”

  She scanned the landscape, wondering why she bothered. This was a sniper’s paradise with the tall grass and the shadowy forest looming thirty yards away from where she’d parked. If someone had wanted her dead right now, they’d have shot her already. Besides, the spray-painted words appeared to be a warning, designed to scare her out of investigating the case any further.

  Though Shiloh could feel fear threatening to overtake her, the vandal’s words didn’t accomplish their intended purpose. Instead, they steeled her resolve to finally find out who was behind these attacks and her cousin’s murder.

  Shiloh noted that Adam didn’t try to convince her to discuss the past. His slow nod told her that he respected her decision to change the subject. Shiloh’s heart warmed at how he didn’t push.

  They stood in silence, Shiloh fighting against the fear that still threatened under the surface of her forced calm. She felt herself relax as she watched a patrol car pull in next to hers several minutes later.

  “Man, Shiloh, who’d you make mad?” Officer Matt O’Dell whistled to punctuate his words. “You must’ve ticked somebody off good.”

  Shiloh laughed, feeling the tension ease the way it always did when O’Dell was involved. He was a Southern good old boy to the core, with the thicker-than-molasses accent to prove it. “Apparently.” Her gaze fell on the car, and she read the message again. There was no pretending that the attacks on her weren’t related to her past, not anymore. The murderers who had tracked her here, to the sleepy seaside town of Treasure Point, were still tracking her every move.

  And they wanted to make sure she knew that.

  Adam had said he felt as if they were being watched. Was she being watched all the time? Was someone watching even now? Would she drive home from work tonight, let herself into her house, thinking she was safe, not realizing she was mere feet away from someone watching her from outside, maybe through a window?

  The idea made her skin crawl.

  “I don’t see anyone.” Officer Clay Hitchcock lowered the binoculars he’d been using to canvass the area. “Whoever did this is either well hidden or already gone.”

  “In cases like this, where someone makes things personal, doesn’t the person harassing them usually stick around to see the reaction?” Shiloh asked.

  Hitchcock shrugged. “Maybe. But it is a little odd. It makes it odder that this isn’t the first thing that’s happened to you lately. Any idea what the message means?”

  “Yeah,” O’Dell interrupted. “We heard about your little swim in the creek. You think the two things are coincidence? Or related?” He cocked his head to the side and waited. Shiloh decided to avoid answering Hitchcock’s question and answer O’Dell’s. Maybe no one would notice.

  “Related. Things like this don’t happen often enough for the two to be unconnected.” There. That was a good explanation. There was no need to tell them that she had a good idea why she was being targeted. Whoever had done this was undoubtedly the person or persons who had killed her cousin.

  The question was...why now? And did it have anything to do with the fact that Adam had walked back into her life for the first time in five years? She couldn’t see a logical connection, but the coincidence was overwhelming. She’d lived for years in Treasure Point, not going to any dramatic lengths to disguise her identity or cover her trail. A motivated criminal should have had her cornered within months of her leaving Savannah. Instead, they’d waited. But why? Why now? And since Annie had found evidence of their crimes only in Savannah, why here?

  The only connection she could think of was a conversation in the break room at the police department during lunch not long ago. The talk had turned to pirates, and Shiloh had mentioned several facts about Blackbeard and his supposed stash of hidden gold. From there the conversation had turned to the police officers who had been killed five years ago in Savannah as part of a treasure hunt. She hadn’t admitted her involvement in it. But had something she’d said given her away?

  She shuddered at the idea that one of her fellow officers could be involved with the criminals who had killed her cousin. No, there had to be another explanation.

  Shiloh stared at the car as the other officers inspected it and the surrounding area for evidence. It was probably too much to hope that the vandal had dropped the can of spray paint or done something equally stupid, but it was always good to check.

  Shiloh surveyed the damage again, noting then the seats inside the car had been shredded and stuffing pulled from them. Had they been looking for something? That made the least amount of sense of any of her theories. If they thought she had something they needed, they wouldn’t have waited five years to get it. Especially from a cruiser she had just acquired a few hours ago.

  The chief would have to know her suspicions eventually. But to tell the chief risked someone at the station ove
rhearing. What if her suspicions about a connection between the recent attacks and that seemingly harmless pirate-treasure conversation were correct? She needed a safe sounding board, someone not connected to the department. Someone to help her think through everything.

  She looked over at Adam, who stood off to the side. Did she dare?

  Shiloh glanced back at the car, then down at the wrapped gold doubloon in her hand. Hardly any time had passed since this nightmare had begun again, and already she’d feared for her life several times. It was only going to get worse.

  “Why don’t you two hop in the back? I’ve got a call in to Bernie at the tow place, and he should be here soon. In the meantime, I’m sure the chief has lots of questions for you.” Clay Hitchcock opened the back door of the cruiser and motioned for them to climb in.

  Shiloh only hoped she had enough clever ways to avoid some of those questions.

  They rode to the station in silence. Shiloh spent the time thinking through everything she would need to do.

  She could remember what had made her first become a history major in college. She’d always been fascinated with the past, with the stories history could tell. One day she’d heard the famous phrase that those who don’t study history are doomed to repeat it, and she’d realized she wanted to learn from the past and help others do the same.

  In this case, if she didn’t learn from the past, parts of it were going to be repeated. But, as in the study of the history of cultures, studying her history was going to require walking back through it. Reliving it.

  Shiloh shivered. She wasn’t sure yet if she had what it took to do that.

  “The chief is expecting you,” Hitchcock told her as they pulled up in front of the building.

  Shiloh nodded and climbed out of the car. Adam followed her. Should she dismiss him, or might the chief want to talk to him, too? She’d wait and let the chief decide.

  She felt eyes on her as soon as they walked into the building, felt the infamy that came from essentially wrecking two department cars in the span of four days. This was why she couldn’t tell the chief. This department had no secrets.

  And Shiloh had more than her share.

  “Officer Evans. Have a seat,” the chief instructed when she reached his office. “Reverend Cole, do you mind staying, giving me your side of what happened?”

  Shiloh saw Adam’s silent agreement, and for some crazy reason she couldn’t explain, she felt herself relaxing at the knowledge that he wasn’t leaving her.

  “Now, why don’t you start at the beginning?”

  Shiloh filled the chief in on all the details, from the moment they’d pulled the car over, to finding the coin, to discovering that the car had been vandalized.

  “I think I’m in agreement with Officer O’Dell that you’ve made somebody angry.”

  “So you think this is related to the attack by the bridge?”

  He nodded. “It’s unusual that you’d be almost killed and then threatened, rather than the other way around. But, yes, I see no reason to believe they’re separate incidents.”

  Just what she’d been afraid of. And she hadn’t even told him about the note she’d received at her house.

  “Anything you need to tell me, Shiloh?” He switched from his gruff-boss tone to the gentler one that made him a father figure to half the men in the department.

  “Not at the moment, sir.” Which was true. He didn’t need to know yet.

  He eyed her for another second and then leaned back, his classic signal that the conversation was over.

  “All right. Then get back on your shift. I’ve switched your area for now. Hitchcock will cover that region, and you’ll be in town.”

  She nodded, relief flooding through her.

  “Reverend, I was going to have you ride with her for the whole shift today, but if you’re up for it, some of the men here are going out to lunch in a little while at a local barbecue joint, and it might be a good chance for you to get to know them.”

  Adam nodded. “That sounds great, sir.” His eyes flickered to Shiloh. “Unless you think someone should be with Officer Evans today? After what’s happened?”

  The chief chuckled. “She’s got dozens of rounds of forty caliber for that gun on her hip, and she sure knows how to use it. I’m not worried about Shiloh.”

  Shiloh forced a smile and tried to regain some sense of calm. The chief was right. Adam was a chaplain, not an officer. He didn’t need to be assigned to some ridiculous protective detail.

  But as she stood up to leave the room, she realized with startling clarity that being with Adam made her feel...safe.

  Yes, he’d broken her heart. But he was a man of honor. And she knew without a doubt that the ideas she’d had before driving into town—ideas of sharing the events of the past with Adam and getting his perspective—weren’t as crazy as she’d worried they were.

  “Thanks, though. And, Adam?” She smiled, her pulse quickening as she thought about the way she was about to give her trust to a man who had so thoroughly let her down before. “If you don’t mind dropping by, say around six, to help fix that loose board on my front deck, I’ll feed you for your trouble.”

  Confusion muddled his face for half a second, as she’d suspected it would, and then understanding dawned, and he nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  SIX

  Adam was sure the day couldn’t have dragged on any longer. The uncertain look Shiloh had worn as she’d invited him over, the vulnerability in her blue eyes, haunted him. He hoped he’d been pleasant enough during lunch with the guys. The chief had even joined them. Adam remembered laughing, talking and answering questions, but all the while Shiloh had been there in the back of his mind.

  Several of the officers had heard about the incidents Shiloh and her cars had met with in the past four days and were interested to hear Adam’s take on them. After Adam had recounted them to the eager listeners, the chief had shaken his head and had admitted he was worried about Shiloh. The rest of the guys had laughed, citing numerous examples that proved she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

  Adam could sympathize with the chief, though. Clearly she enjoyed the job, but he’d always felt this kind of work was unacceptably dangerous. He admired the commitment of the men and women who were willing to serve, but it wasn’t a position he wanted to see filled by anyone he cared for. He’d thought her cousin’s death would have proved that to Shiloh, too, but, instead, losing Annie was the catalyst that had made Shiloh seek out the same job that had cost her cousin her life.

  Women didn’t make sense.

  Adam pulled his car into the driveway of his little rental house and checked the clock on the dash before shutting off the engine. He was cutting it close. It was five-thirty now, and he’d hoped to clean up a little before heading over to Shiloh’s.

  He’d been uncomfortable all afternoon, worrying about her safety and wondering why she’d become a target. The note on her car had mentioned her cousin. Annie had been gone for five years, since long before Shiloh started this job. What did Annie have to do with the danger Shiloh was in now?

  Adam was ready for some answers.

  “Hey, Tux.” He opened the door and greeted his boxer, who was wagging his tail so eagerly it was a wonder the thing didn’t fall off. “Sorry, buddy. I’m not home for long. I have a date.” He could hardly believe the words as he said them aloud, and apparently Tux couldn’t, either, because his enthusiasm didn’t fade. Of course, the dog may have wanted dinner more than Adam’s company, and Tux knew Adam wouldn’t leave without feeding the dog first.

  He petted Tux on the head, grabbed his supersize bag of dog food from the bottom of the pantry and dumped a generous amount in the dog’s bowl. The way Tux tore into the food as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, Adam was surprised Tux hadn’t learned yet how to open the p
antry door and get it himself.

  Leaving the dog to his dinner, Adam hurried to his bedroom, where he changed into a clean pair of jeans and a shirt. Then he told the dog goodbye, locked up and walked to his car.

  As he pulled into her driveway minutes later, his heart started to pound. This house was exactly what he’d pictured her living in. Complete with a front porch and rocking chairs. It made him think of the home he’d once hoped they’d share. Was he fooling himself to think he’d gotten over the pain of losing that dream?

  Whether this was a dumb idea or not—getting involved in Shiloh’s life again—he couldn’t sit idly by while she was at risk, no matter how dangerous the close proximity to her felt to his traitorous, untrustworthy heart. He parked the car and sat, taking one deep breath after another.

  His phone rang as he was working on getting up the guts to go inside. Adam glanced down at the screen. It was his dad. He pushed back the temptation to ignore it. His dad would keep calling until he got an answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Adam! How are you, son?”

  “I’m good. How are you?”

  “Things here are fine. The same as always. I want to hear about you. How’s the new church going? How do you like Treasure Point? I liked it the few times I went to visit family there.”

  Some cousins had been in the area for years until they’d moved to Florida last spring. They’d attended Creekview Church and had been friends with many on the deacon board. Those connections were part of the reason he’d been given this job when he had little pastoral experience so far.

  “It’s going okay. You know how it is getting to know people, getting them to trust you...” Adam trailed off.

  “I don’t know how it is, Adam. You’re called to be there, so you owe it to those people to make an effort to be the pastor they need. Are you going on a pastoral call tonight? Should I let you go?”

  If only Adam could say yes—get off the phone and look good in front of his dad, killing two birds with one stone.