Following the Evidence Read online

  Rain instantly soaked the shoulders of his jacket. In his haste to leave, Reed hadn’t taken his hat. His hair became plastered to his head, water running in rivers down his face and into his collar. The grass was slick under his boots. Mud splashed the cuffs of his jeans as he ran to the front porch.

  He scanned the front door and the closest windows with his flashlight. Nothing. Everything looked locked and secure. Lightning streaked across the sky, and above his head wind chimes danced. He needed to go around the perimeter of the house, look for signs of a break-in. The back door maybe—

  The sound of a loud crash turned his blood cold. Emma!

  The front door was wooden, old, with a flimsy deadbolt. Thunder boomed, and Reed took advantage. He rammed the door with a well-placed kick. His heel screamed in protest, but the wood splintered.

  “Come on, come on...” He focused his energy on the weak spot he’d created. He slammed into the door again. It shuddered and gave way.

  He entered the house, his flashlight moving over everything. A banister leading upstairs. A dining room to his right. A living room to his left. His breathing was ragged, but the hand holding his weapon was steady.

  Which way? Upstairs or toward the back of the house?

  He paused, straining to listen. There. A noise coming from the kitchen. He raced down the hallway. Someone was coughing.

  His flashlight caught a dark figure bolting out the back door. Reed swung to his left. Emma sat on the tile floor, one hand holding her neck. Her face was red and her long hair stuck out in all directions. Relief replaced the terror in her expression when she caught sight of him.

  Reed bent down, scanning quickly for blood. How seriously had she been hurt?

  “Go,” she choked out. “I’m okay, and he’s getting away.”

  Reed dashed after the intruder.

  TWO

  Reed’s boots slipped on the mud and the grass as he rounded the corner of the house. Rain pelted him, and he blinked to clear his vision. The intruder was already across the yard, headed for the safety of the woods.

  “Police!” Reed shouted. “Freeze!”

  The dark form paid him no heed. Reed raised his gun, but the man was a quickly moving target. Reed had no shot. Within the span of two heartbeats, the intruder disappeared into the woods.

  Reed wrestled with the need to give chase, but the rain and the dark put him at a distinct disadvantage. It wasn’t smart to go into the woods without backup. Smothering his frustration, he pulled out his phone and hit Speed Dial while jogging back to the house.

  Mona answered before the first ring finished.

  “I need every available unit to my location. I also need an ambulance.” He barked out his orders and a brief description of the suspect. Not that it was much. Male, roughly six feet, wearing dark-colored clothing and a ski mask.

  He hung up and entered the kitchen.

  Emma had turned on the lights, bringing the attack’s destruction into full focus. A tree branch had obviously been used to break the window. It lay discarded. A shattered cookie jar was partly on the counter, the rest on the floor. A Taser resting on the tile sent a fresh wave of adrenaline through him. Had Emma been attacked with it?

  She was standing with her back to him, one slender hand clutching the wall as if it was the only thing keeping her standing. Her breathing was raspy. There was no blood on the floor or on her clothes, but it didn’t necessarily mean she was okay. Shock could be covering the pain.

  Glass crunched under his boots. She turned at the sound of his approach. Her face was ashen, her eyes huge.

  “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he reassured her. He scanned her body for wounds, stopping at the sight of the red marks around her neck. His jaw tightened in anger. “Did he use the Taser on you?”

  “No.” Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “Just his hands. The Taser’s mine, but he knocked it away before I could use it.”

  Other than the marks on her neck, Emma was remarkably whole. A few minor cuts from the glass on her arms. Her pajama top and bottoms were wet from the rain. Her whole body trembled. Whether from cold, fear or shock, he couldn’t tell.

  “The ambulance is on its way.” Reed took off his coat. The outside leather was wet, but it was layered and would help warm her until the ambulance arrived. He draped it over her shoulders.

  “Is he gone?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He pulled a kitchen chair around and gently led her to it. “Where’s your daughter?”

  “Lily is with my sister-in-law, Vivian. They’re upstairs.”

  “Wait here.”

  Reed tore down the hall and ran up the stairs. A rumbling growl drew him up short.

  A dog was standing in a doorway, teeth bared and hackles up. There was no doubt the animal would attack him if he went closer.

  The stairs creaked as Emma came up behind him. “Stop,” she rasped. The dog immediately ceased growling but remained at attention. “Good dog, Sadie.”

  “Can I move past her or is she going to bite me?” Reed asked.

  “Sadie will only attack on my command now.”

  He took her word for it. The bedroom was empty, but he could hear the sounds of a baby crying on the other side of a door. Reed rapped on the wood. “It’s Sheriff Reed Atkinson. Can you unlock the door, please?”

  The lock clicked. A blond woman emerged, cradling a red-faced child. The vise around Reed’s chest loosened, and he took his first deep breath. Vivian and the baby appeared unharmed and although Emma was hurt, her injuries were minor. Things could’ve been so much worse.

  Thank you, Lord.

  Vivian spotted Emma standing in the doorway and rushed around Reed.

  “Thank God, you’re all right.” Vivian started crying. “I was so scared. When I heard the banging—”

  “We’re okay.” Emma wrapped her arms around Vivian. “We’re all okay.”

  Sadie joined the group, standing as close to their legs as possible. Emma took the baby, shushing her. Lily was gorgeous, with her mother’s dark hair and eyes. Her chubby arms were wrapped around a stuffed lamb. Seeing Emma holding her little girl twisted something in Reed’s gut.

  “What happened?” Vivian swiped at her tears before tilting Emma’s head to get a look at her neck. “You’re hurt!”

  “I’m okay. Reed stopped him before...” Emma’s voice trailed off and her grip tightened on the baby. “Unfortunately, he got away.”

  “He won’t be free for long,” Reed interjected. “Whoever did this will be caught, I promise.”

  Emma spun toward him, her eyes widening. “Really? So it took him breaking in and attacking me before you decided to stop ignoring the situation?”

  Sadie, sensitive to her owner’s temperament, growled, and Reed eyed the dog with trepidation. He held up his hands in a sign of surrender. “I know you’re upset—”

  “I’m not upset. I’m furious.” Her cheeks flushed. “Tonight could’ve been completely avoided if you’d taken the threats I reported seriously.”

  Reed stiffened as her words registered. His gaze snapped to hers. “Threats? What threats?”

  * * *

  “This is your last warning. Heyworth is not your home. Leave or you will be hurt.”

  The voice coming from Emma’s cell phone sounded mechanical and distorted. It’d been half an hour since the attack, and she’d changed out of her wet pajamas, but chills still raced through her. She clasped her hands together to keep her fingers from trembling.

  “The phone calls started shortly after I moved here. They weren’t all like that one. In the beginning it was just hang-ups, sometimes heavy breathing. I brushed them off, but then things started happening on the property.”

  A muscle in Reed’s jaw worked, and his shoulders were tight. He looked furious but when he spoke, his voice was calm. “What kinds of things?”

  “Equipment was moved, flowerbeds destroyed. A couple of my patio chairs were broken. Small stuff. Annoying but not necessarily threatening.”

  He scrawled something in a small notebook.

  Reed’s chestnut-colored hair was darkened from the rain but still carried the faintest impression of a hat indention. A dusting of stubble hid the cleft in his chin.

  She’d often thought of Reed over the years, but it’d been a surprise to discover he was the sheriff. Reed always talked about the day he’d leave Heyworth in his rearview mirror. It was one of the many things they’d fought over—her desire to return to the small town, his eagerness to never to see it again.

  “You didn’t report the phone calls or the things happening on the property?” he asked.

  She bit her lip. “Not at first. It sounds foolish, I know, but I thought my cousin was doing it. Owen was dealing with a lot. First the death of his father, then the shock of learning about the inheritance.”

  “You felt bad for him.” Reed’s expression was sympathetic and nonjudgmental. “You were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  The understanding in his expression eased the guilt and shame pressing down on her shoulders. “Yes. I figured if I ignored him, Owen would eventually tire of it and stop. But last week, things took a more serious turn. Someone left poisoned hamburger meat near the back patio.”

  “Why would Owen do that?”

  “I think he was trying to kill Sadie.”

  At the sound of her name, the dog raised her head. Emma reached down and stroked her silky fur.

  “He obviously didn’t know Sadie has been trained not to eat food from anyone except me and Vivian. Unfortunately, an opossum found the untouched meat and die
d. That’s how I knew it’d been poisoned.”

  Reed frowned, his glance flickering to the dog before settling back on Emma. “You trained Sadie to only take food from certain people?”

  “It’s a safety measure. She’s a SAR dog.” Short for Search and Rescue, Sadie was part of an elite class of canines trained to find missing people. “But that’s not the reason why I filed a police report. Even if Sadie wasn’t specially trained, she’s my pet and my responsibility. Attempting to hurt her was crossing a line and not something I could ignore.”

  He nodded. “How many people know about Sadie’s training?”

  “It’s not a secret.” She smiled wryly. “Still not dialed into the town gossip, huh?”

  “Not unless it pertains to a case.” His mouth flattened. “I didn’t know about Sadie, but your uncle told me about your husband. I’m very sorry, Emma.”

  “Thank you.” A rush of unexpected tears caught her off guard. Emma blinked them back. Mark had been dead for almost two years, and still grief had a way of smacking her in the face. “While we’re getting personal, Jeb also told me about your mom. And Bonnie.”

  Reed’s mother had passed away from cancer. Shortly after that, his sister disappeared. The events had to be connected to his return home, but it didn’t seem right to pry into his reasoning.

  “Thank you.” He cleared his throat before the corners of his mouth lifted. “Your uncle was a man of few words, but he had a way of sharing the most important ones.”

  “That he did.” She paused, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. “I was told by the desk clerk that you review every complaint but...you didn’t know, did you?”

  “No. If I had, something would’ve been done about it.” Reed’s words resonated with conviction.

  She bit her lip. He’d saved her life, probably Lily’s and Vivian’s, too, and she’d thanked him with accusations and anger. “I’m so sorry—”

  Reed held up a hand, cutting her off. “No, I’m the one who owes the apology. You were right to be angry. It’s my job to protect you, and it didn’t happen.” He let out a breath. “I’m very grateful that you—that everyone—is okay.”

  Their eyes met. His were still the color of faded blue jeans. A flood of memories washed over her—church picnics, horseback rides and long talks by the lake. Emma felt a poignant stab at the loss of their friendship. But it hadn’t escaped her notice that Reed had been avoiding her since she moved back to town. He’d nearly tripped over a paper towel rack in the grocery store trying to get away from her last week.

  His behavior was the reason she believed her initial complaint against Owen had gone uninvestigated. She’d been mistaken about that. But while she’d misjudged him as a sheriff, Emma wasn’t wrong when it came to their relationship. It was obvious Reed didn’t want to be friends. The knowledge hurt. She didn’t want it to, but it did all the same.

  “The latest threatening message...” he gestured to her cell phone still on the table between them “...when did you get it?”

  “Sunday, the same day I filed the police report. I thought the bad thing he referred to in the message was the poisoned hamburger meat.” She glanced toward the kitchen. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

  He frowned. “I’m not so sure you were. Come with me.”

  Reed led her into the living room. Sadie’s nails tapped against the wooden floor as she trailed behind Emma.

  The living room had been ransacked. Drawers hung open, books were thrown from the shelves and knickknacks were knocked over. The little desk in the corner she used as an office had been torn apart. Paper littered the carpet.

  She took a step farther inside, her legs trembling.

  “Can you tell if anything is missing?” Reed asked.

  She glanced around the room. “Without cleaning up, I can’t be sure, but I do know my iPad is missing. It was sitting right there on my desk when I went to bed.”

  “And when you came downstairs, you didn’t enter this room?”

  “No, I went straight to the kitchen via the hallway.”

  She led him back to the banister and retraced her steps. Inside the kitchen, a deputy was dusting the doorknob for prints while another took photographs. Emma’s gaze drifted over the broken bay window, the glass littering her kitchen floor and the shattered cookie jar. A coldness crept up her spine, stealing the breath from her lungs.

  “Emma?” Reed stepped into her line of sight, dipping his head to catch her eyes. “We can stop for a minute if you need to.”

  “No. I’m fine.” Emma realized she was absently rubbing her throat. She forced her hand down. “The attacker must have heard you or saw your flashlight, because he jumped off me and ran for the back door.”

  “Were you able to get a good look at him? Can you describe what he looks like?”

  “No. It was dark, and he was wearing a ski mask. I didn’t see anything.” She scooted a leaf away with the edge of her tennis shoe. “I thought the branch had broken the window.”

  “He threw it inside to gain entry to the house.” Reed glanced over his shoulder. “Then he went into the living room and started searching for stuff to steal. The noise from the thunderstorm would’ve covered his tracks.”

  “Except Sadie heard him moving around,” she concluded.

  “Yes. He probably saw you go right past the living room doorway to the kitchen. It spooked him, and he attacked.”

  “So you think it was a robbery then? Not something personal?”

  His mouth tightened. “I don’t know. I’ve got men out looking for Owen as we speak, but I don’t want to jump to any conclusions. The threats could be connected to the break-in, or they could be two separate incidents. I’ll know more once we’re further into the investigation.”

  Vivian appeared in the doorway. She was dressed in jeans and a simple T-shirt, her hair piled on her head in a messy bun. On her hip, Lily bounced, stretching her arms toward her mother.

  “She’s tired, but I think she wants Mama,” Vivian explained.

  Emma took her daughter into her arms. She breathed in Lily’s sweet smell, the familiar weight of her thirteen-month-old baby a reminder of her obligations and blessings.

  Thank you, Lord, for protecting my family and for sending Reed in time.

  The prayer soothed her, but it couldn’t erase the dread as she surveyed the destruction in the kitchen. Could this have been a simple break-in gone terribly wrong? Or had Owen finally decided to take his opportunity to get rid of her once and for all?

  THREE

  Heyworth Sheriff’s Department was a small red-bricked building tucked between the courthouse and a park. Midafternoon sunlight sparkled off the glass windows. Reed pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. The scent of french fries from the diner across the street tickled his nose. His stomach growled. It was well past lunchtime and he hadn’t eaten, but there wasn’t time right now.

  “Hey, Sheriff.” Cathy, his daytime receptionist/dispatcher, handed him a stack of messages. “How’s Owen?”

  “Still in the hospital.” It’d only taken an hour for Reed’s deputies to locate Owen Tillman in the parking lot of a local bar. However, Owen was so inebriated, he had to be rushed to the hospital. Alcohol poisoning had nearly killed him. It had taken hours before Reed could question Emma’s cousin about the break-in. “Is Deputy Shadwick here yet?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Waiting at his desk.”

  Reed went through the swinging half door separating the lobby from the rest of the department. “Shadwick,” he called out. “My office. Now.”

  Reed ignored the attention from the others in the bull pen, his entire focus on the man marching to his office. Bald with a chubby face covered in a thick beard, Dean Shadwick was dressed in a vest covered with fishing lures and wading boots. His mouth was tight and his body vibrated with tension, like an angry hornet, but he did his best to plaster on a look of veiled concern.

  “I’m not in uniform because Cathy told me to come right in,” Dean said, once they were both inside Reed’s office. His eyes narrowed. “I was fishing on the lake when she called.”