“You’re going to sell your old property? It’s been in the family for generations, hasn’t it?”
Charity shrugged, her heart heavy again. “It has been. But I really just need to close this chapter of my life, you know? I live in Tennessee now. It’s where I work and where I want to put down roots.”
“I see. Well, of course I can help you. I can stop by early next week and do an assessment on the property. I’m not sure how long a piece of land like that would take to sell. This area isn’t exactly a hotbed for home sales.”
“I’d just like to get the process started.”
“I’m your woman, then.”
Charity shifted for a moment, wondering how to gracefully change the subject. “Sarah, I’m going to be honest. There’s something else I want to ask you about. I’m also back here because of Andrea. I need answers.”
“We’d all love some answers.”
“Sarah, I know you’ve been through all of this with the police before. And I know ten years have passed. But did you ever have any suspicions about anyone who would have snatched Andrea?”
Sarah put her toddler down and lowered herself on the other end of the couch. Dora played on the TV, and two little girls sat on the carpet there, transfixed by the cartoon. “Wow, it’s funny because I was just thinking about this. For years, I’ve wondered what really happened, but I never had any great ideas.”
“Was there anyone who she’d had a disagreement with? Who disliked her, maybe because she was popular?”
Sarah let out a sigh, staring off into the distance. Her baby girl pulled at her shoulder-length brown hair as drool dripped from her mouth. Something about the moment captured Charity’s heart. She hadn’t even realized she wanted children. But some kind of maternal instinct gripped her.
“The only person I ever remember Andrea speaking poorly of was her father.”
Wasn’t that interesting? Sarah and Brody had said the same thing. Yet Charity had never heard this, and she’d been Andrea’s best friend. “What do you mean? Do you know what was wrong?”
“Not really. She wouldn’t tell me. She said she thought her life was ruined. She said her dad was no longer up on the pedestal she’d had him on for so long.”
Charity let that information sink in for a minute. “Why wouldn’t she tell me any of that?”
Sarah sighed again. “You know, I think it was because she looked at your home life and felt like she didn’t have any room to complain. Sure, her dad wasn’t perfect. But at least he didn’t do drugs and bring strange men into the home.”
Charity felt herself flush. “You knew about that?”
She shrugged. “Most people in town did. I know you didn’t talk about it a lot. But you know how small towns are. Everyone knows everything.”
Charity’s cheeks heated for a moment. Did that mean that everyone knew about Will Redmere? She prayed that wasn’t the case. How much more scrutiny could she endure?
“I just can’t believe it. Her dad couldn’t have had anything to do with her abduction . . . right?” Charity’s words sounded uncertain.
“We all have skeletons in our past, Charity. Who knows what all of hers were. Since her dad was on the police force, he probably kept more secrets than the average person. I’m not saying abducting his own daughter was one of them, however. What would his motive be?”
Charity didn’t know. But she did know that people did strange things in the name of supposed love. She’d seen several play out in her work as a victim’s rights advocate. People killed others in the name of hurt loved ones. They tried to control people they claimed to love. They kidnapped children, thinking they could give them a better life.
She hoped that wasn’t the case with Andrea and her father.
“One more thing—you said you’d been thinking about Andrea lately. Anything spark your new thoughts about her?”
“Yeah, it was the strangest thing. I was driving down Highway 17, and I thought I saw her walking beside the street. Strange, isn’t it?”
CHAPTER 9
It was past midnight when Joshua got to the station. They’d dug up a majority of Buddy Griffin’s yard, and they’d found no body. Now they were back here with Buddy himself. He’d sobered up and had a terrible hangover, but he seemed ready to talk.
The chief let Joshua sit in on the interrogation.
Before anyone asked any questions, Buddy started talking. “I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s not what you said earlier,” the chief said.
“I was drunk. My girlfriend broke up with me. I was feeling destructive.” The man’s shoulders, which were already narrow, slumped and made him look small and vulnerable. But that didn’t change what he’d done.
“So you tell a man that you murdered his daughter?” Joshua asked, not quite buying his story.
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Make it uncomplicated,” the chief said.
He looked up at them, eyes haggard. “That man has been harassing me since his daughter disappeared.”
“Ron?” the chief questioned.
Buddy nodded. “That’s right. He used to stop by my house probably once a week. He’s made threats. Sent letters. Let me know that if I ever slip up, he’s going to nail me.”
“And you never reported this?”
He shook his head. “I figured no one would believe me. This is Ron Whitaker. People in this town think he walks on water.”
“I still don’t understand how that led to everything today.”
“I lost any logic I had. I saw him, and I was so angry about my girlfriend leaving me. As soon as Ron started whispering with his friends about me, I lost it. I wanted him to hurt, and I wanted to see his pain firsthand so I could feel some satisfaction.”
“Kind of extreme,” Joshua said.
“This has been building up for years. I don’t know what happened to me. I just started talking and I couldn’t stop. I’d had too much to drink. I admit that. But I have no idea where all my words came from.”
“You told him you buried Andrea in your yard.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that girl’s disappearance,” he said. “Isn’t it obvious? You didn’t find her body.”
“You’re saying you had nothing to do with her abduction?” the chief clarified.
He nodded. “Nothing. It’s like I told everyone back then—I was up in Virginia when everything happened. I’m innocent. I may be a screwup, but I didn’t screw up that bad.”
The chief sighed and glanced at Joshua. He could read her thoughts: their prime suspect had just retracted his confession. Did they even have anything to hold him on? Joshua wasn’t sure.
***
Charity lay in bed that night, replaying her stay so far in Hertford, beginning with meeting Joshua and ending with talking to Sarah today.
Brody and Sarah had both mentioned the fact that Andrea hadn’t had a wonderful home life. How could Charity have been so blind?
Or maybe it was the fact that the grass always seemed greener on the other side? Maybe Andrea didn’t have the perfect family, but hers had seemed better than Charity’s.
Charity’s childhood hadn’t been a pleasant one. Her mom had strings of boyfriends come and go. Most of them were no good. After Charity hit puberty, a few of them hit on her. One took it a step further.
Meanwhile, her mom was always too preoccupied with her own problems to notice the unwanted attention or to care. Her mom had drunk away her sorrows; when that didn’t work, she’d found a new man. When that didn’t work, she turned again to alcohol or drugs.
Charity squeezed her eyes shut. Thinking about her childhood would do no good. What she needed to think about was everything that needed to be done before she could leave Hertford behind once and for all.
No one would want to buy this property the way it looked now. She still had grass to cut, junk to purge, walls to paint. But at least after that, she could truly leave and not look back.
&n
bsp; Even if Andrea had appeared in the backyard and possibly sent her a text. And—
She had to stop thinking like this. Someone was obviously playing a game with her. She couldn’t be naïve.
A sound outside the window caught her ear, and she froze. What was that? The wind?
She thought she’d heard a snap, like a branch or twig had broken.
She sat up in bed, clutching the covers closer to her. Part of her wanted to charge out of bed and check out the sound. The other part of her cowered and didn’t want to move.
When she heard another shuffling sound, she threw her legs out of bed. She had to do this. She had to see what was going on.
Staying light on her feet, she moved against the wall near the window. She held her breath, fear threatening to dominate her. With her heart beating out of control, she nudged the curtain aside.
Blackness stared back.
Her heart slowed.
Maybe she’d been hearing things.
Just to make sure, she traveled down the hallway and into the living room.
She blinked at what she saw there.
Something bright flickered outside her house.
With a feeling of dread, she realized what it was.
Fire.
Someone had set the house on fire.
This whole place was going to go up in flames. The flames grew with each minute. The heat already made a sweat break out all over her skin.
Charity hunched down low, trying to stay away from the smoke, which already filled the house. She was already coughing by the time she reached the hallway. Just then, a crack sounded above her.
The roof. The roof had already caught fire, also.
Fear shuddered through her. She grabbed the door leading outside and tried to twist.
It wouldn’t budge.
What? Why was the door locked? She rattled it again, but it didn’t budge. Was she trapped in here? She pounded on the wood.
She coughed as smoke filled her lungs. The haze was getting thicker, the heat was becoming stronger, and the flames began to lick the ceiling overhead.
The door still wouldn’t budge. She had to find another way out.
Just then, a burst of fire engulfed the wall behind her.
Her time was running out. She had to think of a way to get out of here.
Before she could think any more, the ceiling collapsed.
That was the last thing she remembered.
CHAPTER 10
Joshua pulled down the lane leading to his house and felt his heart skip a beat.
Flames were coming from Charity’s house.
He pressed the accelerator, and gravel kicked up beneath his tires as he sped toward his neighbor’s place. Thinking quickly, he dialed Lynn and instructed her to send a fire truck out.
He pulled into the driveway and threw the truck into park. He darted toward the front door and tugged at it. It didn’t budge.
What?
Looking closely, he saw nails around the doorframe. Someone had nailed the door shut?
He’d have to think about it later. Now, he hurried to the back door. He pulled his sleeve over his hand and pulled at the door handle. Heat seared his hand.
The screen door opened, but the wooden door was also nailed shut.
Someone was playing a twisted game. A little too twisted.
Wasting no more time, he went to the window. He found a chair from the deck and smashed the glass. After wiping the shards away, he climbed inside.
Smoke immediately filled his lungs and made it hard to breathe. It burned his eyes, his lungs.
That didn’t stop him. He pushed his way into the house, searching for Charity.
Flames licked the walls around him. The whole place was going to go up in flames in a moment. If he wasn’t careful, he and Charity would both be destroyed with the house.
Remaining low, he exited the bedroom. The hallway appeared in front of him. It looked clear.
The heat from the fire made sweat pour across his skin. Flames tried to lick his clothes. The situation was becoming more precarious by the moment. He realized his time was running out. If he didn’t find Charity soon, they’d both be goners.
As he stepped around the corner into the living room, he saw someone lying on the floor.
Charity!
He rushed toward her and put a finger at her neck. There was still a heartbeat. Just as he swooped her up into his arms, something crashed behind him.
A ceiling beam.
This whole place was about to be consumed.
He couldn’t go back toward the window he’d entered from. That meant he had to find another means of escaping.
Flames roared all around him.
He coughed as more smoke filled his lungs. Making a judgment call, he pushed his way into the kitchen.
The window was still clear.
He had to get Charity out through that opening. There were no other possibilities.
Working quickly, he put Charity on the ground. Then he used an old stool to knock out the window by the kitchen table. Just as he picked up Charity, the flames ripped into the kitchen.
He reached the window and saw the fire trucks had arrived.
A firefighter helped Joshua get Charity from the house.
She was safe. Thank goodness, she was safe. At least for now.
***
Joshua paused outside Charity’s hospital room, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. Charity had been taken to the emergency room in the neighboring town of Elizabeth City while firefighters had finished putting out the flames. Based on the way things had looked when Joshua left, she wasn’t going to have much of a house left.
The most disturbing fact he encountered had been that someone had nailed the doors shut from the outside. Nailed them shut. Someone had wanted Charity to be stuck inside that house.
Thank goodness he’d come home when he did. Things could have turned out much differently otherwise.
“Officer Haven,” someone called.
He paused as he saw the fire chief walking toward him. “Hey, Chief.”
“I thought you’d want to know that we found some footprints leading from the shed to the house, as well as some empty gasoline containers that had been thrown into the woods.”
“Which only confirms this is an arson.”
The chief nodded. “It could have easily been a murder. One more thing I thought you’d want to know. The footprints? They were a woman’s.”
“Really?”
“Really. Size eleven. It’s unusual to have a woman as an arsonist. In fact, in twenty years of my work, I’ve never seen it.”
“They could be Charity’s.”
“We’ll want to check her shoe size. But the way the prints are lined up makes it evident the person who left them also set the house on fire. Anyway, I’ll keep you updated if I hear anything else.”
Joshua stored that information away. A woman’s footprints? What woman would have set the house on fire? This whole investigation was getting stranger by the moment.
He knocked at Charity’s door and heard a surprisingly strong “Come in” from the other side. He stepped into the room and saw Charity sitting up in bed. He’d expected her to look broken or hurt. Instead, she appeared wide awake.
“Hello, Charity.”
She smiled softly. “Joshua.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m alive, thanks to you.”
“I’m just glad I was there.”
“Not as glad as I am.” She pointed to his jaw. “Did you get that bruise from saving me?”
He rubbed his jaw, remembering his encounter with Ron Whitaker yesterday. The spot was still sore and slightly swollen thanks to the town’s former police chief. “No, not exactly.” He paused. “I need to ask you a few questions, Charity.”
Charity pulled herself upright in bed. “Go ahead.”
“I’d like to hear your account of what happened.”
She let out a contemplative s
igh and leaned her head back into the pillow. “I was trying to sleep when I heard something outside my window. I got up to investigate. That’s when I saw the flames outside the house. I tried to get out, but the door was blocked. The next thing I knew, the whole house was on fire.”
“I see.”
She paused. “Is the house destroyed?”
“It’s . . .” How did he even tell her? “It’s going to be difficult to restore. My guess is that the county will condemn it.”
“I see.” She rubbed her lips together and stared off into the distance. “Maybe this is just a sign that I need to put this town behind me. Permanently.”
Something about the thought caused Joshua’s heart to pang. She was only here temporarily. It was a good idea to keep that fact in mind.
The nurse shuffled into the room. “I have discharge papers. The doctor said you’re going to be fine. If you start having any problems, come back, of course.”
“Great.” Charity signed the papers and then rose. A moment of despair crossed her face. Of course it did. She had no car, no money, and no friends in town.
“Can I give you a ride somewhere?” Joshua asked.
“I don’t think I have much choice.”
“No problem.” He held his arm out, directing her into the hallway. They walked silently side by side for a minute. A question kept pressing on Joshua, though, to the point where he couldn’t ignore it. “Where will you go tonight, Charity?”
She shook her head, a few smudges of ash still dusted across her cheek. “I’m not sure.”
“I don’t want to impose, but I have a friend whom you can probably stay with, if you’d like.”
“Really?”
He nodded, nearly certain Daleigh would say yes. “Yeah, she’d probably like the company.”
“I couldn’t possibly put anyone out like that. I can probably get a hotel in Elizabeth City somewhere—”
“Don’t be silly. All your money will be gone in the first week. Let me make a call.”
She cut a sharp, curious glance his way. “Why have you been so nice to me? You don’t even know me.”
“I know what it’s like to be in a bad spot.”
Gone by Dark (Carolina Moon Book 2) Page 7
