The Unrelenting Tide (Islands of Intrigue: San Juans - Christian Romantic Suspense) (13 page)

A thousand thoughts had sped through her mind as she stood there staring at him. She realized just how much she had enjoyed the last several days in Carcen’s company, that it really wouldn’t be hard to fall for him, and that she was finally able to let go of Kent. And then she remembered that Carcen was a cop, just like Kent had been. A long time ago she’d promised herself that if she ever did get involved with someone, it definitely wouldn’t be a policeman.

She must fight for all she was worth not to let this attraction grow any stronger.

Drat it all! And now she was having these enticing heat tremors whenever he was near and— She whirled and headed for the other side of the kitchen.

“Looks like some pretty serious thinking going on.” His deep, baritone rumble emanated from the stairway.

Heart springing to her throat, she spun around. As usual she hadn’t heard his cat-like tread. Arms above his head, he leaned casually against the bulkhead. He had taken off his suit coat and her eyes dropped to the bulge of his biceps outlined under the linen of his light-blue dress shirt. She tore her gaze away, blurting the first thing that came to mind. “Carcen, I—” her eyes fastened to the grocery list stuck to the fridge— “I need to go to the grocery store! Would you mind staying here till I get back?”

He frowned. “I didn’t get a chance to look into Stephan’s past yet. I don’t really want you to go alone.”

“I shouldn’t be long.” The words tumbled out in a rush. “If I’m not back in thirty minutes you can come looking for me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Snatching the keys off the counter, she rushed outside without even awaiting his answer.

Anything to get away from him – immediately. Yes, he probably planned to go rest in the guesthouse this afternoon, but he might not be leaving for another five minutes and she needed some space to quiet her emotions and help her think clearly
now
!

Yanking open the car door she sank onto the plush seat and gripped the steering wheel in trembling hands. This day had presented her with enough conflicting emotions to last a lifetime. Leaning her head back with a heavy sigh, she stared at the sun visor.

Thankfully she didn’t have to worry about a stalker watching her every move anymore. Yesterday she’d flipped out a little because of Stephan Abernathy and then the man at the ice cream van, but really were either of them cutthroat enough to be the man who had haunted her all those years ago? Stephan had seemed like a normal-enough kid at church this morning. Now that she had a little distance and perspective, she didn’t think he was dangerous. The man who’d haunted her now resided in the jail in town.

So why now, when it finally seemed she would be able to move on with her life, was God presenting her with this dilemma?

Kent had been killed because he took his job too seriously. And if Devynne had learned one thing about Carcen over the years it was that he took his job even more seriously than Kent ever had. Carcen had never quite been able to forgive himself for Kent’s death she knew, and he overcompensated by pouring himself into his work.

Leaning forward, she put the key in the ignition and suddenly noticed that the seat sat too far back. The realization poured in on a rush, shattering her fragile emotions, and a sob caught in her throat. She hadn’t had to move the seat forward in the car since the day after Kent’s funeral. She had numbly climbed in the car to go to the store, just like she was doing now. Since Carcen had driven her home from Island Grocers that terrible day, and no one had driven her car since, the seat was just as Kent had left it, back as far as it would go. It had shattered the feeble control she held over her tears as she’d moved the seat forward, knowing that Kent had just been in that seat a few days earlier. And she remembered sitting in the car shaking with sobs for a long time before she climbed out and went back into the house with Marissa in her arms.

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?