He stood, keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious.
That’s when he saw the reporter messing with the water hose in his front yard.
Had the man abandoned his clothes and made it to his front yard just in time to look inconspicuous? John intended on finding out.
He stormed across the street until he reached the man. Derek looked back, flinching as John approached. He held the water hose, his knuckles white with a hard grip. He took a step back and offered a smile that looked forced. “It’s John, right? How’s it going?”
John observed him, looking for a sign that he’d just finished running through the woods. The man wasn’t breathing fast. He wasn’t covered in sweat. But he did look ill-at-ease.
“Did you see anyone run past here?”
“Run past?” He scrunched his eyes together, twisting a button on the top of his water hose nozzle. “No, I just came out here to water the flowers. The sun’s finally sinking low enough that it won’t evaporate all of my water or scorch the roses. I’m renting the place for two weeks, but the owner had very specific instructions.”
John stared at him another moment before nodding. “I see.”
“Is everything okay?” He stepped back and began to spray some azalea bushes.
John shifted, crossing his arms. He needed to think carefully about his approach. Accusing the man of something he wasn’t guilty of wouldn’t get him very far in his search for answers. “Did you hear about my cabin exploding today?”
“It’s the talk of the island. Thank goodness no one was hurt, right?”
“Absolutely. I thought I saw someone running from the scene.”
Derek blanched, surprise washing over his features. “You mean, you think the explosion was on purpose? Here on sleepy little Smuggler’s Cove? I thought crimes like that were reserved for the city. In fact, someone told me the worst someone had done here to break the law was to steal someone’s fish, and then that only turned out to be an accident, a matter of someone grabbing an identical cooler.”
“Recently there’s been some vandalism, though it’s usually safe here. But there’s nowhere you can run where crime will ever totally leave you.”
“Sounds ominous.” Derek shifted, squinting against the sun for a moment. “Now that I’m thinking about it, maybe I could do an interview with you for my story? What do you think?”
“I thought you wanted to encourage people to come here to Smuggler’s Cove, not scare them away. A story about suspected crime on the island wouldn’t do anything for us during tourist season.”
“But a feature story on an old Coastie who bought run-down cabins to restore? I think you’d be a great angle. Without the crime portion.”
John felt his gaze darken. He knew there was something about this man he didn’t trust. Now he realized what it was.
“I never told you I was in the coast guard.”
* * *
Samantha saw John talking with Derek. She grabbed Connor’s hand, and they cautiously approached the two. When she was in earshot, she heard John mumble, “I never told you I was in the coast guard.”
Derek blanched and his hand slackened on the water hose trigger. “No, you didn’t.”
“So, how did you know?” John stepped closer, bristling under the assumption that this man had looked into him.
Derek took a step back. He dropped the water hose and raised his hands in the air in innocence. “I was asking around about you. That’s it. I promise.” His gaze fluttered to Samantha, and sweat sprinkled across his brow.
“Why would you ask around about me?” John’s voice was at a near growl. Samantha could see his muscles tensing. He almost reminded her of a tiger about to pounce.
Derek raised his hands higher in the air. “Look, I know that sounds bad. It’s not what you think.”
“Then you’d better start explaining because someone just sabotaged my property and nearly killed one of my workers. My sights are on you right now, and I’ve got the sheriff on speed dial.” John pulled out his cell phone and held it up.
Derek shook his head quickly enough that it was obvious his anxiety was heightened. “It’s like this. I always like to look for people to profile when I’m writing an article. I try to pick someone who will look good in the photos, who has an interesting story, who has a history with the place I’m writing about.”
“And?” John pressed.
“And I was asking around town about who some good people might be. I remembered you guys.” He glanced at Samantha and shrugged. “What can I say? You guys would make for some great photos. You’re what cover stories are made of. You’re naturally attractive and you’re going after the American dream.”
This man obviously had no idea who Samantha was. No one had ever accused her of living the perfect life. Not even close. Especially not in the past year.
“Who’d you talk to?” John’s voice was still hard.
“Lulu! I promise. That’s it. She told me you were in the coast guard and had bought those cabins. She didn’t know anything about you.” He nodded toward Samantha.
“I don’t want to have any part of your article,” Samantha muttered. That would be her worst nightmare: a national magazine running her picture. She’d be leading the bad guys and the police right to her doorstep.
Derek may not be a killer, but in that sense he was totally capable of murder.
“I won’t. I wouldn’t post anything without your permission anyway.” He shook his head. “Look, I’m new at this. I didn’t mean to offend anyone. I’m just trying to write an article that will make my editor happy.”
John’s shoulders finally relaxed some and he took a step back. “Enjoy your stay on the island. And if you know what’s best for you, don’t ask any more questions. We’re not interested. Got it?”
“Of course.”
John motioned to them and Samantha and Connor followed him to the road. Samantha’s heart was pounding in her chest as the confrontation replayed in her mind. Was Derek simply an innocent reporter bent on getting a killer story? Or was there something he wasn’t telling them? Was there something he was hiding?
She wasn’t sure. Of course, lately she hadn’t been sure of anything.
As they started walking back down the road toward the ice cream parlor, Samantha glanced at the material in John’s hands. “What’s that?”
John held up the bundle. “I found it abandoned on the side of the road. Look familiar?”
She didn’t have to see all of it to know the answer. “It’s what the man chasing us was wearing.”
“He apparently ditched this and then ran off. He could be anyone.”
“You think the police can get any DNA off that?” she asked.
“That’s what I’m hoping. Maybe you’ll finally have some answers. We’ll see, right?”
Her feet were nearly dragging across the dirt road. “That almost seems too easy. Nothing was ever easy with Billy. He was too clever.”
“Don’t lose hope.”
She forced a smile. “I won’t.”
John had a lot to do with that. Without his encouragement and support, she’d be on the road right now, still looking over her shoulder constantly, still living in fear.
Truth be told, she was living in fear now. But John had given her hope that maybe there could be an end to her troubles. She prayed that would be true.
She had to remind herself to keep her distance from John. The future was so uncertain. She’d do whatever it took to protect her son. That meant, if she had to run again, she would. Her eyes were open and she’d take whatever action she had to.
For now, she’d prepare herself for what could be the fight of her life.
Thankfully, this time John’s friends had been around to guard the cabins so there wouldn’t be any unexpected ex
plosions.
First though, she had to get her son some ice cream.
* * *
The night had passed and nothing had happened.
John had lain in bed awake for most of it, listening for signs of danger. He hadn’t heard anything except the wind blowing sheets of sand against the sides of the house.
After a lot of finagling that evening, they’d finally decided that Connor and Samantha would take John’s cabin. He asked Rich to sleep in the living room and keep an eye open for any sign of trouble, and Larry to keep lookout from the cabin next door.
Meanwhile, John stayed in the cabin he was originally preparing for Samantha and Connor. He felt certain the intruder would go there first, especially if he’d been keeping an eye on things today. They’d given the most attention to that cabin; anyone could see that.
He got up from bed with a kink in his neck and a headache. He got dressed and stepped outside. Bright morning sunlight flooded his eyes and the scent of salty bay air filled his nostrils, bringing a certain measure of comfort with it.
He wanted to head over to his cabin. He needed some coffee and maybe to grab one of those cream-cheese pastries he’d picked up at the bakery in town. Just the thought of the cream-cheese filling made his mouth water.
He knew that just because someone hadn’t shown up last night, didn’t mean their trouble was over. Far from it, most likely. He had to wait until their next move before he could take action.
Waiting had never come easily to him, but he’d learned the importance of it in his days with the coast guard.
Samantha’s sweet face flashed in his mind. Her image was appearing in his thoughts far too often. He didn’t deserve another chance at love. Not when his first chance had been so badly botched.
He should have been there for Alyssa more. He should have requested a desk job or a training job. But he’d done all of that too late.
The end result was that she’d died. If he’d been there for her as she’d asked, she’d probably still be alive right now. And that realization would haunt him for the rest of his life.
As he started across the sand, he stopped in his tracks.
Their intruder hadn’t been silent last night after all.
There, spray-painted across the front of his cabin, were the words “This island is in trouble.”
He had to get that off before rumors began flying around Smuggler’s Cove.
Because rumors would only make Samantha more prone to run.
TWELVE
Samantha stood on the beach, almost in a daze. She couldn’t get the image out of her mind. The picture of the dark red words slashed across the otherwise serene white plank siding of the cabin would haunt her for a long time.
In the distance, John painted over the message. A fresh coat of paint almost entirely covered the front of the cabin. He continued to stroke the brush from side to side silently. Samantha knew she should help, but she couldn’t snap out of it.
Someone had clearly wanted to send a message. And send a message they had. They knew who she was and they wanted the lies about her to be known.
If they couldn’t kill her physically, there were other ways to ruin her life. They could make sure she was ostracized, shunned.
John came back over, stood beside her, and looked at his work. “Can’t tell anything was ever there.”
“Thank you,” she croaked.
“I don’t think anyone saw it,” John offered.
“Someone knows, John.”
He frowned. There was something he wasn’t telling her. Something bad.
“Samantha, there’s something I need to tell you,” he started.
“Okay.” She braced herself.
“Someone claiming to be an FBI agent stopped by Nate and Kylie’s place a couple of days ago.”
The blood drained from her face. “What?”
“He said his name was Special Agent Walsh.”
Her world began spinning. Before she sank to the ground, John grabbed her arm.
“Take a deep breath.”
Deep breaths would not help her right now. Billy was in the FBI now? If that was the case, she didn’t stand a chance. No one would take her word over Billy’s. He’d tell everyone that she’d cooked the books, that she’d changed the numbers to make it look as though someone else was guilty. The so-called proof she had would mean nothing. Panic began to set in.
“What did he say?” she rushed.
John’s voice remained calm and soothing. “He just said he was looking for you.”
She began to pace across the sand, her mind speeding toward the future. “He knows I’m here.”
John gently grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. His eyes seemed to implore her. “You don’t know that, Sam. Think about it for a minute. How would he have figured it out?”
She rubbed her forehead, trying not to look him in the eye. He was too even-keeled. He obviously didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. He’d be panicked, too, if he knew Billy like she did. “I have no idea.”
“Let’s talk this out. Could he have traced your cell phone?”
She shook her head. If John’s hand wasn’t on her arm, she would probably run to the cabin and start packing right now. Staying here and remaining levelheaded was at odds with the urgency within her. “I threw it into a river. I did get a new one, but I’ve been careful about using it.”
“Did you tell anyone where you were going?”
“No one.” A headache that had started earlier now pounded harder.
John squeezed her arm. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I wish I could be so sure.” And she wished he wasn’t touching her. She’d come to appreciate his touch a little too much.
He extended his hand toward the path leading from the cabins into town. “Come on. Walk with me.”
“Where are you going?” She glanced uncertainly ahead, not wanting to go, not wanting to stay. Only wanting the impossible—to be safe.
“To get some supplies from the docks. I’d feel better if you were with me.”
“Let me just get Connor.” She called her son over. “We need to go into town. Come on!”
Connor ran over, panting and sweaty and happy. He hadn’t seen the message. John had already painted the first coat over it before he’d awoken. “Tanner wants to know if I can play kickball later. Can I? Can I?”
A small smile feathered across Samantha’s lips. She was so glad that Connor had found a friend here. Tanner’s family lived down the shoreline and the two boys had met while on the beach. “I’m sure that will be fine, especially if you stay close by. Take a walk with us now.”
They walked down the road, Connor talking on and on. John gave him kickball tips. Everything sounded normal and happy, but Samantha knew all of that was a facade. Things could crumble at any minute. She wondered if the first stone was already beginning its descent.
“So, Nate and Kylie still want to come for a visit in a few days,” John said during a break in the conversation.
She frowned. “Maybe they shouldn’t come. Not with everything.”
“I thought about that, also. They were going to stay overnight, but now they’re going to only come for the day. Kylie’s pretty stubborn sometimes. I couldn’t talk her out of it.”
Samantha prayed they’d be safe. She didn’t want to ruin anyone else’s life. There’d already been too many. If she’d just minded her own business...but it was too late to change the past.
They reached Main Street. People lolled outside of storefronts, shooting the breeze about the day, the new kind of fish coming into season and what the approaching nor’easter might mean for the island.
Today was Saturday so tourists had flooded the place, anxious to try the seafood here, to explore the
waterways, to absorb a different—and slower—way of life.
Samantha shifted uncomfortably. Was it just her imagination or had some of the conversations stopped when she came closer? Was she simply paranoid after that message had been left for her?
People definitely seemed to be watching. It was because she was the new girl, she mentally told herself. But doubt still lingered in the back of her mind. It pulled at any chance of serenity that wanted to surface.
John’s hand went to her arm. His touch zapped her out of her thoughts. “You okay?”
She forced a nod.
As they paused at the wharf, the scent of fish rose to meet them. Seagulls cried above them, searching for breadcrumbs and other food. In the distance, a kite stretched high in the sky.
Her spine stiffened as she noticed more people glancing her way. “Is it just my imagination or are people staring at me?”
He glanced around. “It could be because you’re the new girl in town.”
“Or rumor could have spread about the message left on the cabin.” The weight on her chest pressed harder. “I have so many doubts about staying here, John. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to the people who were trying to help me. There’s already been so much collateral damage, so to speak. So many innocent people who’ve been harmed, killed.”
She thought specifically of her friend Lisa. She hadn’t deserved to die. All she’d done was give Samantha a ride. Samantha would carry the burden of Lisa’s death with her for a long time.
John grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. “Don’t talk as though this is your fault, Samantha. You’re just as innocent in all of this as anyone else who’s become a victim.”
The look in his eyes nearly took her breath away. “Why do you have so much faith in me? Most people would at least be a little skeptical.”
“I trust my instincts.”
She wanted to argue, to question him more, to convince him he was wrong. She didn’t even know why. She only knew it felt safer when people remained at a distance...safer for her heart, at least.
Desperate Measures Page 12
