The Unrelenting Tide (Islands of Intrigue: San Juans - Christian Romantic Suspense)

by Bonner, Lynnette

  She glanced down at the house. Today she cried for a different reason. Today there would be no running back into the safety of the house, for the house held a danger far more daunting than her memories. Today she cried because she just might be falling in love again, and she was scared to death. Not of the man, but of losing him.

  The jerk had made her cry! He swore softly under his breath as he dropped the binoculars to his side.

  A branch from the bush at his side jammed into him and he whacked at it in irritation.

  He glanced at his watch and swore again. He was supposed to be to work in less than twenty minutes.

  For now he needed to go, but this was not over. Not by a long shot. Turning, he trudged through the brush to where he’d left his car down the road a ways.

  He tried to look on the bright side. Her crying like that at least meant they weren’t in love with each other. And that was something. He might just have a chance. This week. He’d try to make a special connection with her this week, sometime.

  Sliding behind the wheel, he whistled a tuneless ditty all the way back to town.

  Monday morning Carcen slumped into his chair, plunked his coffee down and flipped open Robert Dawson’s file. Three large empty bulletin boards lined the floor to his left. The file was thick – annoyingly so – but he started with the oldest crimes and tracked the man’s movements across the country and the years. Pictures went through the scanner and then up on the board. Red pins clustered across the map of the U.S. and southern Canada, testimony to every crime the man had ever been caught committing.

  Six hours, two power-bars, and three cups of mostly cold coffee later, the bulletin boards were covered with images and descriptions, and the map looked like a pin cushion.

  Carcen folded his arms and stepped back, staring at the U.S. Map. Particularly at California. The muscle in his jaw pulsed. Not one pin in California. None in Nevada. One in Portland late 2003. One in Seattle in January of 2004. He’d been arrested for repeatedly following a woman home from the ballet at McCaw Hall. But he’d only served a couple months for that stint.

  Devynne had stated that the stalking started in 2004 and continued through the end of 2005.

  Carcen compared the map with the dates, once more. From the time he was released from jail in 2004 till last Thursday, the man hadn’t had any arrests, although he’d been brought in for questioning a couple times.

  Carcen stopped in front of Robert’s image and tapped it on the forehead. “What were you doing for all those years, Robert, huh? Had a little project you were focused on, did you?”

  Donny, the newest hire and thus the station gofer, knocked on his door. He had a thick folder in his hands. “I got that file you wanted. The one about that dead actress who was stalked in California.”

  “Thanks, Donny.”

  “I don’t see why you would focus any of your time on a cold case with a dead victim, but…” He dropped the file onto the desk with a loud thunk. Stepping over before the boards, Donny clasped his hands behind his back and studied them for several long moments. “You think this has something to do with that dead girl?! You finding any connection between these cases?”

  Carcen roughed a hand through his hair. “Well, nothing concrete yet. I’m still trying to nail down timelines.”

  Donny let out a low whistle. “Same guy going after two women? Come to think of it, your sister-in-law does look something like Hane. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility, I guess.”

  Carcen let that comment slide. “I’m going to need one more thing. See what you can find on Stephan Abernathy, would you?”

  Donny’s mouth gaped open. “Mrs. Abernathy’s son? The one who donated a good portion of the funds to build city hall? That Abernathy?”

  Reaching for the file he’d just brought in, Carcen nodded. “That’s the one. Thanks.” He flipped open the cover and reached for another power-bar.

  “Boss!” Sanchez snatched the power-bar from his grasp. “Your insides are gonna get so gummed up from eating those things that one day you’re just going to keel over right there at your desk, all preserved and everything. They won’t even have to embalm you.” He stepped out the door and came back in a moment later to plop a take-out container on top of the file. “A bacon cheese burger’s not much better, but at least it’ll be a change.” With a slight bow he sauntered from the room.

  “Remind me to give you a raise!” Carcen called after him. The tantalizing scent of the burger and fries from Friday’s Crabhouse set his mouth to watering before he could even get the lid of the container open.

  Green pins joined the red ones on the map to indicate the locations where Shania Hane had reported encounters with her stalker. And he squeezed more images onto the bulletin boards.

  The energy from the burger had long since faded when he stepped back to study his work, once more.

  All the green pins were in California except the one pin on San Juan Island.

  With a groan he scrubbed one hand down his face. Nothing to tie the two together. And nothing to indicate that Dawson was on San Juan four years ago when Kent was killed.

  Donny rapped on the door jamb and stepped into the room tapping a manila folder. “Everything I’ve been able to pull together on Abernathy.” He dropped the file on his desk. “I’m waiting on his college transcripts. I’ll get those to you first thing in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Donny.” He glanced at his watch. It was later than he’d realized.

  Sanchez headed down the hall calling, “I’m heading out. You’re the last one here. Don’t forget to set the alarm when you leave, huh?”

  He waved a hand of acknowledgement to the empty space Sanchez had occupied a moment earlier. “I’ll be out of here in a minute.”

  His focus returned to the map and images. They could obviously get Dawson for being in Devynne’s house, for malicious destruction of property, and personal assault. But that wouldn’t garner nearly the number of years that scum bag deserved to serve.

  He sighed. He’d hoped, anticipated even, that this was going to be a simple open and shut case. But it looked like it was going to be a long week of tracking down people who might have known Robert Dawson, asking if they knew where he was during those years, and of course checking out social media sites.

  Not to mention Stephan Abernathy…

  With a sigh he reached for his file. After just a few minutes of reading and glancing back and forth from his file to the bulletin boards, Carcen felt his skin begin to tingle. He picked up his phone and dialed Niemeyer.

  “Hello?”

  “Shannon? I need you to book the next available flight to California.”

  Chapter 13

  It was Tuesday afternoon when the phone rang. Devynne hurried to answer before it woke Marissa from her nap.

  She glanced at the screen. No name. Just a number she didn’t recognize. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Devynne?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is Randy. You met me the other morning at church.”

  “Hi Randy.” What in the world could he want?

  “Listen,” he cleared his throat, “I was wondering if you’d like to go to dinner on Friday night? Maybe catch a movie after?”

  Silence. Devynne’s knees went weak and she sank onto the sofa. Carcen’s words from Sunday rang in her head. ‘There is a little word called ‘no.’ And I of all people know how good you are at using it.’ Indeed, it was the first answer to pop into her head but another thought came quick on its heels. Maybe this was the way to get her mind off Carcen.

  He had gone up to the guest house immediately upon her return from the grocery store on Sunday, but all through the drive back to the evening service electrical tension had still sparked between them. To her chagrin, she hadn’t been able to keep her mind off of the man for the past two days. If she went out with some other guys, maybe that would help. And Carcen himself had vouched for Randy so he wouldn’t be able to pull out his “go nowhere alone” rule.


  “Devynne?”

  “That…would be…sure.”

  “Great! I’ll pick you up about six. We can go to dinner and then catch a movie. I’ve been looking forward to this ever since I met you.”

  He had? Unease zipped through her. Maybe she wasn’t ready for the dating scene yet. But she forced herself to say, “Alright. See you then.” She gulped. Had she really agreed to this?

  It wasn’t until Thursday that she remembered she would need a baby sitter – somehow she didn’t think Randy’s invitation had included her four-year-old daughter. But to her dismay everyone she called had plans for the following night.

  Jackie and Lamar were her last hope. She dialed their number.

  “Hello, this is Jackie.”

  “Jackie, hi, it’s Devynne.”

  “Hi, Honey. How are you?” Devynne could hear motherly affection in her tone and realized she would always be like a daughter to the Lang’s.

  “Fine. Listen, I’m looking for a baby sitter for tomorrow night. Are you busy?”

  “Oh, Honey, I’m afraid we are. Lamar has a conference he must attend and it’s out of town. I’m packing as we speak. We plan to take our time coming home and probably won’t be back until Monday or Tuesday.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s fine. I’m glad you two get to have some time to yourselves. Enjoy your trip. Where are you headed?”

  “His conference is in Seattle, but we plan to travel up to Leavenworth on our way home.”

  “That’s nice. I hear Leavenworth is beautiful this time of year. Well, you have fun and I’ll talk to you when you get back.”

  “Alright, dear.” She hurried on, before Devynne could disconnect. “Devynne?”

  “Yes?”

  “Did you try, Carcen? I know for a fact that he doesn’t have plans for tomorrow. In fact I just talked to him and he said that he was planning on coming over and spending some time with Marissa tomorrow, so I’m sure he could do it.”

  “Really? Thanks. I’ll give him a call.”

  She set the phone back in its cradle with a sigh, frustrated by the fact that she suddenly wished she didn’t have plans for the following evening. The thought of simply staying at home and spending time with Carcen and Marissa was tempting, indeed.

  She paced the room, mentally giving herself a shake. Those kinds of feelings were the exact reason she had agreed to go out with Randy. She couldn’t afford to fall for Carcen. Still, the thought of even talking to him sent her pulses racing. She left the phone in the cradle.

  By the next morning she was chastising herself for her emotional weakness. All she had to do was talk to him on the phone for goodness sake. And at this rate, Randy was going to show up and she wouldn’t have anyone to watch Marissa. She dialed his number with new determination.

  “Friday Harbor, police department.”

  “Yes. May I please speak to Sheriff Lang?”

  “Hold on.”

  The sounds emanating from the other end of the line muted as the officer who had answered apparently put his hand over the mouthpiece. Then she heard a muffled, “Lang, it’s for you. Line one.”

  “Hello?” Carcen’s deep baritone rumbled in her ear.

  Devynne’s heart began to beat like a bass drum and she took a gulp of air.

  “Hello?” he said again.

  “Carcen?”

  “Devynne, is that you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Everything okay?” Alarm tinged his tone.

  “Yes. Yes, fine.”

  “Good. Hey.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “It’s nice to hear from you. I’ve been thinking about you.”

  “You have?” The question was out before she thought better of it.

  “Yeah. I was going to come see you guys tonight. Will you be home?”

  Devynne swallowed. “Actually that’s why I’m calling. I wondered if you could babysit for me tonight?”

  There was a slight pause and then he answered, “Sure, I don’t see why not. Have big plans?”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose wondering what she should tell him. “Not big plans really. Just Randy. He called and asked me to dinner and a movie.”

  “Randy, huh?” Was that irritation she heard in his voice? “What time do you need me to be there?”

  “Well, he said he’d pick me up about six, so anytime just before that would be fine.”

  “Alright. You have plans for Saturday?”

  She frowned. “No.”

  “Good. See you tonight then.”

  Carcen set the receiver down and glowered at the phone; considered hucking it across the room, but seeing as how Donny was eyeing him through the glass, decided that probably wasn’t the best choice.

  He turned his attention back to Stephan Abernathy’s file. He thought he’d been grumpy before Devynne called to say she was going out with Randy tonight.

  He glanced up at the pin-dotted maps spread on one of the bulletin boards to his right. Black dots now represented Stephan Abernathy’s maneuverings over the past several years. Several black dots and green dots rested side by side in California.

  On the same day Devynne and her sister had found the package labeled “bomb” on their porch, the boy had gotten a speeding ticket ten blocks from their house. He’d gotten another ticket just outside of Universal Studios which didn’t prove much of anything since Carcen couldn’t pinpoint exactly where Devynne had been that day. But, just a week after it was announced that Shania Hane had been killed in a plane crash, Abernathy had been arrested on a possession charge at the Down on Your Luck bar. The case had been dropped two days later and he’d never gone back to the community college he’d been attending. After that, Stephan’s shenanigans in California went cold but started up again in Washington just a few days later. He’d been booted from a couple casinos. Spent the night in the Everett city jail on drunk-and-disorderly allegations which, again, had been dropped within the week, and been assigned community service for a variety of infractions – none serious enough to send him to jail.

  Carcen sighed and slapped the folder shut. He stood, rested his hands on his hips and studied the three images on the bulletin boards.

  Devynne. Robert Dawson. And now Stephan Abernathy.

  He’d spent the better part of the week following leads and verifying the timelines before him. And now he was beginning to have his doubts about Dawson. And his suspicions about Stephan were rising.

  He glanced at his watch. He was supposed to have heard from Niemeyer today. But Randy was due to pick Devynne up in a little less than half an hour. If she hadn’t called him within a couple hours he’d call her from Devynne’s place.

  Shrugging into his jacket, he grabbed up his phone and dialed Boyd who’d already left for the night.

  “Hey, boss. What’s up?”

  “Boyd, listen,” he searched his desk for his keys, “first thing in the morning I need another interview with our newest resident.”

  “Before the big game?”

  He closed his eyes. He’d momentarily forgotten about the benefit game set for tomorrow. This year the big game would take place out in the historic town of Roche Harbor on the other side of the island. “Yeah. This is important. Sorry to make you come in on your day off.”

  “Well, I’m sure I’ll find a way for you to make it up to me.”

  Carcen grunted. “Just have him ready in the morning. Eight A.M. sharp.”

  “Yes, boss.” There was still a note of teasing in Boyd’s voice.

  He pushed the off button and then scrolled to his phone book and pressed Randy’s name. He stacked the files into a pile, and tossed the power-bar wrappers into the garbage can.

  “Randy Wiseman, CPA.” The cheerfulness in Randy’s tone set his teeth on edge.

  “Hey Randy. Carcen.” He locked the files away in his desk drawer and shoved his keys into his pocket.

  “Carcen! Hey! You calling to give me the big brother talk?” He laughed.

  Carcen ground his
teeth but did his best to sound like he was chuckling along with his friend. “I know you’ll take good care of her. Listen. There is something serious I’m calling about, though.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, you know Devynne had a break-in the other night. You asked me about the arrest, and I told you we’d gotten a guy, remember?” Carcen strode toward his office door.

  “Sure do.”

  “Well… Some information has come to light. I…just…watch out for her tonight, okay? I’m not one-hundred-percent sure we have the only guy who attacked her behind bars. And I… need to know that you’ll be keeping your eye out.”

  “Whoa! That’s scary stuff. But no problem. I’ll give you a call if anything fishy comes up. And hey, thanks man, for letting me wrangle myself an introduction on Sunday morning. I haven’t been this excited about a date in a long time.”

  “Yeah, man. No worries. Have a good time tonight.” He wanted Dev to be happy, didn’t he? Even if that meant she found it with someone else?

  He hung up the phone before, “Just not too good of a time,” could pop out, then strode into the main room. One more talk to have.

  Donny was just locking up his desk. “Hey, boss.”

  “Donny, listen, I need you on the clock tonight.”

  “Aw, Lang! I was gonna catch a nice dinner and enjoy oysters on my back deck.”

  “Sorry. Eat a nice dinner wherever Randy Wiseman takes Devynne Lang tonight and we’ll pick up the tab.”

  Donny sighed. “Whatever you say, boss.”