As he shifted in his seat, the chair squealed beneath him. “Did you get a look at him?”
“I only saw that he was wearing black.”
All black? Could it be the same person who’d shot at him in the woods? His instincts said yes.
Something in her gaze caused his guard to rise. Was she hiding something? But what? If that was the case, certainly she could have come up with a better cover story than stolen oysters.
“I never asked you earlier: how long will you be in town?” Zach asked.
“At least a week.”
He contemplated her answer a moment before nodding. Her explanation seemed reasonable enough. “I’ll see what I can find out. I have to admit, what you’ve told me isn’t much to go on, but I will check with some of the shop owners with businesses near the duplex and find out if they saw anything suspicious.”
“I don’t really want to draw any attention to myself.” She shrugged, as if her words might have sounded strange. “It’s only smart as a single woman.”
“I’ll use caution.”
She nodded as she stood, clutching her purse. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”
“I’ll be in touch, Ms. Sawyer.” As he watched her retreat, something felt unsettled in his gut.
There was something she wasn’t telling him. Now he just had to figure out what and why.
Zach followed her out into the reception area. Lynn had returned, a steaming microwave meal in front of her and an apologetic smile on her face. He nodded at her as he stepped outside the small office building located on the edge of the town’s retail area.
He let his gaze wander down the sidewalk. He expected to see Madelyn. Instead, his attention was drawn to his police cruiser. The tires were all flat.
He bent down to examine them and saw slashes in the thick rubber. Someone had done that on purpose. But what kind of message were they trying to send? That he wasn’t welcome here?
Some didn’t approve of an outsider being chief. Since he’d arrived in town, his mailbox had been knocked over. Some potted plants on his deck had been smashed. A dead fish had been left outside his window at the police station. Now this.
Did that mean that someone knew about his past? The thought made him bristle.
If someone knew who he was, that could sabotage his whole investigation—which was his entire reason for being here.
He couldn’t let that happen.
* * *
“I’m not sure I can do this,” Madelyn mumbled into the phone.
She paced the kitchen floor while dark windows stared at her in the distance. As unexplainable nerves got the best of her, she pulled her sweatshirt closer around her, wishing for a moment she was back in her safe little apartment in Maryland. At least she had a few neighbors there who would notice if something was wrong or that she could run to if she had any trouble. Here, she felt alone and out of place. She kept reliving her earlier encounter outside the house.
“Madelyn, of course you can do this,” her editor, Paula, said. “This will be your big story, the one that propels you to the top. You can’t back out now.”
“But I talked to Zach. He didn’t seem evil or murderous or like a bad cop even.” He’d been quite handsome, truth be told. And kind. He didn’t look cold-blooded, not even when he’d pushed Madelyn for more answers than she’d wanted to give.
“You could tell what was going on deep inside of the man after talking to him twice? People often hide who they really are, Madelyn. You can’t take everyone at face value, and if you’re going to make it as a journalist, you’re going to have to finely tune your reporting instincts. No more thinking with your heart. None of this misplaced compassion. You’re good at getting people to trust you. Get Zach to trust you also.”
Madelyn frowned and leaned against the wall a moment, staring at the dark beach beyond her window. She couldn’t make anything out except an occasional whitecap hitting the sand.
Seeing the bay made her feel small and reminded her what a big world it was out there. Since her parents had died, she’d felt all alone without any kind of support system to fall back on.
Her mom and dad had gone out to dinner one night and neither had come home. They’d been in a car wreck. A police officer had been in pursuit of a suspect after a bank robbery. He’d gone through an intersection and rammed into her parents’ car, killing them on impact.
The officer hadn’t lost his job, and his apology hadn’t meant anything considering the loss Madelyn had faced.
She had been only eighteen at the time. Her childhood had ended on that day, never to be regained.
A few months later she’d gone off to college and tried to forge a new life for herself. Paula had been a graduate assistant for one of her professors and had seen promise in one of Madelyn’s essays. She’d given her guidance when Madelyn had no one else.
After college, Paula began working at East Coast International Magazine. Five years later she became editor. Paula had hired Madelyn last year after she’d gained some experience by working for a few small-town newspapers in the years after college.
Paula was everything Madelyn wanted to be. She was smart, successful and respected. But their personalities were quite different. Like night and day for that matter. Paula was brash, bold and said what was on her mind. Madelyn, on the other hand, was softer, kinder and more contemplative.
She snapped back to the conversation. Get Zach to trust you, Paula had said.
This was going to require a certain level of deceit on Madelyn’s part. She’d thought about this a lot before she’d come. Could she really handle the task? Earlier, she thought she could. But now she was beginning to doubt herself and her reasons for being here.
“You’re sure Zach is guilty?”
“Madelyn, it’s his fault that two police officers died, not to mention that poor boy.”
“That poor boy was a drug dealer,” Madelyn reminded her. “Not that he should have been shot. But he was about to shoot Zach.”
“Rumor has it that Zach Davis was involved in the drug ring, and that’s why those two officers were killed. It was no mistake. People think that Zach didn’t want to be caught and that something went down during the bust that might indicate his guilt and involvement in the whole thing.”
“That’s going to be difficult to prove.” Why had Paula sent her here to do this job? She claimed it was because she was editor now and that she was trying to give Madelyn the break she wanted. But Paula was the type who liked to do things herself. The question had wafted through Madelyn’s mind more than once.
“Zach can be quite charming. That’s what I heard at least. Don’t fall under his spell.”
Madelyn straightened. “Wait—did you know him?” Was there more to Paula’s determination to see this article through than she’d originally let on?
“No, of course not. I just know people who know him. He’s a horrible person masquerading as someone who’s noble. He needs justice, Madelyn, and you’re the one who’s going to give it to him. Can I count on you?”
Madelyn wished she felt so certain. That pesky compassion always crept in at the worst times and sometimes made her wonder if she was suited for this career. She wasn’t cutthroat, and nothing she did would ever convince her she would be. But according to Paula, there was no prestige in simply writing travel articles. To be taken seriously in this career, one had to stick her neck out. She had to take risks, to write articles that impacted the world. How could Madelyn argue with that?
After a moment of silent contemplation by Madelyn, Paula