Witness Pursuit (6 page)

He motioned Madeline and Rocky away. “I'm fine. I need to make sure Cassie is safe.”

“I'm safe. They arrested Shovel Man.”

“We don't know if he's working alone.” He glanced at Harvey. “Take Margaret to the resort. Since Aiden is the manager, he should be able to find her a secure room.”

“Yes, sir.” Harvey turned to Cassie's mom. “Let's pack some things and call your son.”

“Cassie's coming with me, right?” Mom said.

The walls were closing in. Cassie loved Mom, but spending days upon days in a room with her, listening to her fret and worry over Cassie's health, would drive Cassie bonkers.

“I'd rather go back to my apartment,” Cassie said.

“Honey—”

“That way if someone comes looking for me again, I'm not putting you in danger.” She gave her mom a hug, glancing into Chief Walsh's eyes.

He studied her, as if trying to figure out what was going on in her mind. She looked away, her gaze landing on the inside of his truck, the deflated air bag. He could have been seriously hurt.

Because of her.

“We'd better get going,” Chief Walsh said. “I'll protect Cassie.

She broke the hug with Mom and said, “Keep your phone on and I'll text you.”

“Be safe.”

“I will. Promise.”

Harvey led her mom back to the farmhouse. This was the best plan for so many reasons. She turned to Nate and caught him rubbing his forehead.

She touched his arm. “Does your head hurt? I'll get my cousin.”

“Not necessary. I'm just trying to figure out how everything fits together, that's all.”

“That's a lot. Maybe you should wait until you've had a good night's sleep.”

* * *

Sleep wasn't in the plan for Nate, not anytime soon. Not until he could be sure Cassie was safe.

Since his truck had been damaged, he'd driven Cassie to her apartment in a squad car, and remained outside her building all night. Nate had an officer patrol the area to make sure it was safe, that no one was lurking and waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Although that scenario seemed unlikely, he wasn't taking any chances. Since Cassie hadn't bothered to change her address on her driver's license, it would be difficult for someone to track her down. He wished he would have known about her not changing her address on her license before she let him take her to the farmhouse. Maybe it had slipped her mind, or maybe she was in denial that the perp would come after her again.

Nate doubted anyone had tracked her to the quaint, modest apartment, but couldn't be too careful. This case grew more complicated by the hour.

The next afternoon, he spotted Cassie waving to him from her window. Nate went up to her apartment to discuss the case.

“You've been down there all this time?” she asked from the kitchen.

“One of my officers gave me a break.”

He peered through the delicate lace curtains in her living room, scanning the street below. It wouldn't be easy to breach her apartment considering the two entry doors downstairs, plus Cassie's apartment door. She lived in an older building with a mailbox vestibule, and her mailbox, 2D, did not have her name on it, which worked in their favor.

“Shouldn't you be interrogating Shovel Man?” she said, coming into the living room carrying a tray with a teapot and cups.

“Shovel Man?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I didn't know what else to call him.”

“He's still at the hospital being treated for injuries sustained in the collision. I'll question him in lockup after he's discharged.”

“How about some tea?” she asked, pouring herself a cup.

“You don't have to entertain me. Just pretend I'm not here.”

If only Nate could follow his own advice. It was impossible to ignore the intimacy of being surrounded by Cassie's personal things, wall posters of castles and mountains overseas, and family pictures proudly displayed on oak bookshelves.

“I can't believe I slept until midafternoon.”

“You obviously needed it.”

“Why not sit down and take a breath?” She shifted onto the sofa.

He decided this could be a good opportunity to question her about the events of last night to help with the investigation.

Stop being so insensitive.
The woman is probably still traumatized from surviving violent encounters with a criminal.

Yet the sooner he got answers, the safer she'd be.

“Tell me again what the intruder at the farm said.”

Cassie poured him a cup of tea. “That if I'd tell him what I did with—” she made quotes with her fingers “—‘it,' he'd leave me alone.”

“Did with what?”

“Wish I knew.” She handed him a delicate china cup.

He took it, noting how fragile it felt in his large hands. “Did you take anything from the cabin, other than the dog?”

“No.” Her eyes widened. “You don't think they're after Dasher, do you? Why would anyone be after a dog? Speaking of which, is he okay? Who's got him? Catherine or Bree? Did Bree take him to the vet to get checked out?”

Nate cracked a smile.

“What?” she challenged.

“I can tell you're back to normal because you're firing off ten questions at once.” He sat on the sofa beside her.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don't be. I'm glad you're okay. Dasher is safe with your sister. Apparently he and your sister's dog are hitting it off. They didn't take him to the vet because he didn't suffer any physical injuries.”

“Speaking of which, hang on.” She got up and went into the kitchen.

Nate glanced at his watch. He hoped the perp would be released from the hospital and taken back to the station soon, but Nate didn't want to leave Cassie alone just yet.

He'd left her alone last night and couldn't forgive himself for the trouble that followed.

She breezed back into the living room holding an ice bag. It amazed him that she had so much energy considering everything that happened to her yesterday.

“Here.” She sat down and held the ice against his head. “To reduce the swelling. Still looks pretty red from last night.”

“Thanks.” He reached up and his fingers brushed against her hand.

Her skin was so warm and soft, and his breath caught in his throat. What was happening to him? He wasn't a teenager, and he'd certainly outgrown the crush stage of relationships. Why did this woman rattle him so?

“I've got it, thanks,” he said.

“Oh, sure, right.” She snapped her hand away and reached for her teacup. “My mother's overprotective instincts must be rubbing off on me. Sorry.”

“Cassie?”

She glanced up at him with those iridescent blue eyes.

“You never need to apologize to me, okay?” he said.

She bit back a smile. “Even if I do something nasty?”

“Define nasty,” he said, surprised by their sudden lighthearted banter.

“Hmmm, what if I doused your tea with happy herbs like lemon balm or chamomile?”

He glanced into his cup. “I probably deserve that.”

“I'm kidding,” she said. “Stop being so serious.”

The lightness of the moment destroyed by his dark thoughts, he slid his cup onto the table.

“My seriousness will keep you safe.” He stood and went to look out the window. “I can't afford to be distracted by tea and conversation.”

Man, he sounded like a jerk.

“I get it, I do.” She got up and crossed the room.

He felt her hand touch his back. Warmth spread across his shoulders. She had that kind of effect on him—a peaceful, calming effect.

“But I think that instead of getting pulled down by the darkness, we should focus on strategizing our way out of this mess.”

When she put it like that it made him seem like an unprofessional, emotional head case.

“Are you worried about how all this will reflect on your position as chief?” she asked.

He turned to her, wanting to read her expression. It was authentic and open. Her eyes always seemed so honest when she looked at him.

Which meant she honestly thought he was more worried about his job than her safety. She hadn't a clue how he felt, that this wasn't just about protecting a random citizen.

No, this couldn't happen. These feelings could get her killed. He went to the coffee table to get his teacup.

“Or is it something else?” she pushed.

“I don't want to mess up.”

“No one does,” she said.

He turned to her. “People died because I wasn't paying enough attention.” How had that slipped out?

“I'm so sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you can't fix the past.”

“No, but you can let it go.”

“Wish I could.” He sighed. “And now, well, Echo Mountain has historically been a quiet town, until recently.”

“Until what, you came on board as chief? Don't even go there, big guy. We had our share of trouble long before you took over, like the guys stalking Scott, and the thugs after Nia because of her deadbeat brother. And now I find a dead body. I'm sorry it was on your watch.”

“Wait, you're not blaming yourself for this,” Nate said.

“No, but I feel responsible for putting the people I care about in danger.”

She glanced at him with a startled expression, like she'd blurted out a secret she hadn't meant to share. Awkward tension filled the living room.

“Don't worry, your mom will be fine.” Nate recovered. “Aiden will make sure of it.”

She nodded, but didn't speak.

I feel responsible for putting the people I care about in danger.

Her words hung in the air between them, and Nate considered their meaning. She couldn't possibly include him on that list.

He had to redirect his thinking before it totally distracted him from his goal: protecting Cassie and finding out why “Shovel Man” killed the woman in the cabin.

“To be clear, you didn't take anything from the rental cabin?” he said.

“Just the dog,” she said, breaking eye contact and walking back to the sofa.

“What were you supposed to do when you got there?”

“Check appliances, general condition of the cabin, bring in fresh toiletries and linen. But I didn't get very far because I heard Dasher scratching at the closet door.” She shook her head. “I wasn't even supposed to be there.”

“Explain, please.”

“My friend Becca had originally been assigned the Whispering Pines cabin, but I offered to cover for her. She seemed stressed lately.”

“Why's that?” Instead of sitting beside her, he chose a chair across from the coffee table.

“I think she's having boyfriend trouble. Tony keeps promising to get a better job. He does part-time work for Echo Mountain Rentals and she's been supporting them by holding down two jobs.”

He pulled out his notebook. “I need Becca and Tony's last names.”

“Wait, why? You think they're involved in this?”

He glanced up at her trusting and offended expression. “She might have seen or heard something along the way,” he said. “I have to look into everything connected to the rental company. Detective Vaughn has already been in touch with your boss.”

“Oh, okay.”

Cassie gave him Becca's last name and her phone number. “I don't know Tony's, sorry.”

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, right, I'm not supposed to say ‘sorry.' Sorry.” She smiled.

He refocused on his notebook to avoid the effect her disconcerting smile was having on him.

“I'll call it in.” He pulled his phone off his belt.

He called Detective Vaughn and gave her the information about Becca and Tony.

“You think they're tied to the deceased?” Vaughn said.

“I have no idea,” he said into the phone. “Cassie said Becca has been stressed out. It's worth looking into.”

“I'm on it.”

“And let me know when the suspect is in lockup.”

“Of course.”

He ended the call and turned to Cassie. “We'll figure this out.”

An explosion echoed through the windows. Cassie shrieked and Nate instinctively pulled her against his chest.

SIX

C
assie had never heard anything so ear-piercingly loud, yet the eerie silence that followed was even creepier.

She felt guilty about clinging to Nate like a little kid, and knew she should let go. Yet he'd been the one to reach for her. It wasn't like she'd jumped into his comforting arms that held her snugly against his chest. The pressure of their embrace dissolved the ball of fear lodged in her throat.

Then she realized Nate couldn't investigate what was going on outside with Cassie stuck to him like Velcro.

Releasing him, she stepped back. “I'm okay.”

“You're sure?”

“Yes, go ahead. Do your thing.”

He called it in. “This is Chief Walsh. There's been an explosion on Main Street. I can't tell what it is or from where it originated. Send a patrol car and I'll meet him in front of the Sweet Rose Teashop.” He pocketed his phone and looked deep into Cassie's eyes. “I need you to stay here and lock the door behind me. Don't let anyone in but me, got it?”

“Of course,” she said with false confidence. He must have read fear in her eyes because he didn't move.

“Go, go.” She led him to the door and securely locked it once he left.

She stood there for a good minute, pressing her forehead against the aged wood, praying that Nate wouldn't be harmed and he'd return quickly.

“Uh,” she moaned, going back to the sofa and grabbing her cup. Five minutes, she wanted five peaceful minutes to ground herself from the craziness.

Then she realized she
had
felt grounded the moment Nate pulled her into his arms. Wow, that was a first. She'd dated a few guys, sure, but she'd never felt calmed by any of them. Considering the current situation—being stalked and threatened—it was quite remarkable that she could feel grounded from a simple hug.

“Of course he makes you feel safe. He's the police chief,” she said.

As the minutes ticked by, she grew more anxious about what was happening outside, wondering if Nate was okay. She padded to the living room window and peered down to the street. A cruiser with flashing lights was parked in front of her building, but there was no sign of Nate or the other officer.

“Where are you?” she whispered.

A sudden movement caught her eye. On the corner, she noticed a man standing under a streetlamp, lighting a cigarette.

And he was staring up at her.

She snapped back from the window, her heart racing. Now she was overreacting about everything. She wasn't in danger. Shovel Man was in custody. The guy outside was probably out for a walk and happened to pause at the corner to light a cigarette.

As she was about to peek outside again, someone knocked on her apartment door. She gasped. How did they get into her building?

She slowly crossed the room and eyed the peephole. The hallway was empty. Taking a few steps away from the door, she whipped out her phone to text Nate.

“Cassie, open up!” her sister called.

Cassie eyed the peephole again. Bree stood there holding Dasher in her arms. Cassie flung open the door.

“How did you get in my building?”

“Key, remember?” Bree waved her key chain. “You going to let me in?”

Cassie motioned her inside.

“Mom wanted me to check on you,” Bree said, carrying the dog in one hand and a take-out bag in the other. “She told me to bring food.”

“Hey, Dasher.” Cassie grabbed him for a quick hug.

“Mom told me what happened. You seriously locked her in the pantry?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” Cassie shrugged. “Thanks for bringing Dasher, and dinner.”

“I figured you could use the company.”

“I had company until a few minutes ago. Didn't you see the police car out front?”

“I parked in back.”

“Chief Walsh was here.”

Bree quirked an eyebrow.

“Knock it off,” Cassie said. “He's just doing his job.”

Bree's phone beeped. She held it up. “Mom.”

“Go ahead, tell her I'm okay.”

Bree answered. “Hi Mom...Yeah, I'm with her now. She's okay...I'll tell her. Love you, too.” Bree pocketed her phone. “Mom says she loves you even if you won't stay with her at the resort.”

“It's safer for Mom this way.”

“I wish you would've called me instead of me having to hear about it from Mom,” she said in her hurt voice.

Bree had survived her share of violent situations, and Cassie wanted to spare her big sister more trauma.

“Cassie?” Bree prompted.

Cassie put Dasher down and watched him enjoy all the new smells of her apartment. “I'm okay...well, I was okay until we heard an explosion outside just now. Chief Walsh went to investigate. He said not to open the door to anyone but him and when you knocked, I couldn't see you through the peephole.”

“I was picking up the dog, sorry. What is going on around here? First the body in the cabin, then a crazy man in urgent care, and someone tried to break into the farmhouse? How are you coping with all this?”

“I'm fine.” Cassie glanced at the window across the room. “I just wish Chief Walsh would let me know he's okay.”

“Want me to look?” Bree started for the window.

“No, stay away from the window.”

“What? Why?” Bree studied her.

“I saw a guy out there. It's probably nothing.”

“Honey.” Her sister took Cassie's hand. “Never, ever ignore your instincts. If you think there was something off about the man outside, then respect that feeling.”

Bree knew a lot about trusting her instincts. She'd learned the hard way after surviving a relationship with an abusive boyfriend. She'd also found a wounded man in the mountains named Scott, and trusted her instincts that told her he was not a criminal. Scott turned out to be a wonderful man who was now Bree's boyfriend.

“We'll tell Nate about the strange man outside,” Bree said.

“No.” Cassie pulled her hand away. “I'm probably overreacting.”

“Or maybe not. Why don't you want to tell him?”

Cassie sat on the sofa and Dasher jumped up beside her. “Nate's got enough going on. He doesn't need to deal with my paranoia about some phantom stranger.”

“That's not it,” Bree challenged, joining her on the sofa. “Come on, out with it.”

“Look, he already thinks of me as his friend's bubbleheaded little sister who talks way too much. Why add overreacting, hysterical woman to that list? I don't want him looking at me that way. I want him to see me as...” Her voice trailed off as she noticed a wry smile playing across her sister's lips. “What?” Cassie challenged.

“Nothing.” Bree winked.

“What's with the wink?”

“Admit it, his opinion of you means so much because you kinda like him.”

“He's the police chief. Everyone likes him.”

“I'm not talking
that
kind of like. I'm talking hugging and holding hands and—”

“Stop.” Cassie stood, grabbed the food bag and went into the kitchen. She had to get away from her sister's teasing comments.

More like, unavoidable truth.

Drat, who was Cassie kidding? She'd been crushing on Nate Walsh for months and kept pushing it away, telling herself he'd never be interested in a naive chatterbox like her.

She also knew he was the exact
wrong
person to date because of his dedication to his job. She wanted to take off and explore the world, whereas Nate was firmly rooted in the community as police chief. He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

“Cassie?” her sister said from the kitchen doorway. “I understand if you don't want to admit it to me, but at least be honest with yourself.”

Cassie glanced at her sister. “Nate is not an option.”

“Why not?”

“I can't stay here, Bree. I need to get out of this town.”

“Okay, well, make sure you're running toward your dreams, not fleeing your problems.”

The apartment buzzer went off. Cassie pressed the intercom. “Hello?”

“It's Nate.”

“Come on up.” She pressed the unlock button. A minute later she spotted his handsome face in the peephole. She opened the door and the dog burst into furious barks.

“Stop, Dasher, it's Chief Walsh.” Cassie picked up Dasher and glanced into Nate's eyes. “What was the explosion?”

“Someone started a Dumpster fire behind the hardware store. Probably kids needing a little excitement.” He glanced at Bree. “Hi, Bree.”

“Chief.”

He studied Cassie, cocking his head slightly. “What's wrong?”

“What? I... What do you mean what's wrong?” Cassie stumbled.

“Did something happen while I was gone?”

Cassie glanced at Bree, who bit back a knowing smile. Nate could read Cassie like a three-word text.

“Everything's fine,” Cassie said, going to the sofa.

“She saw a suspicious guy outside and it freaked her out.”

“Bree!” Cassie snapped.

“Where?” Nate said.

“By the lamppost on the corner,” Cassie said. “It was probably nothing.”

“Stop denying those instincts,” Bree repeated.

“Good advice.” Nate went to the window. “No one's there now. What did he look like?”

“Tall, wearing a baseball cap and smoking a cigarette.”

“She's pretty jumpy,” Bree added.

“You can leave now,” Cassie said, half-joking.

“I don't want to leave you alone.”

“She won't be alone,” Nate said. “I'm staying for a while.”

“Good, well, there's plenty of food for both of you.”

“Guys, I can take care of myself,” Cassie said, putting Dasher down.

“Bree, how about I escort you to your car,” Nate offered, and then looked at Cassie. “I'll be right back.”

“Hey, don't I get a say in any of this?” Cassie protested.

Bree hugged her. “Don't argue. Enjoy his company,” she whispered in her ear.

“Stop.” Cassie playfully shoved at her sister's shoulder.

“Did you want to keep the dog?”

“You should probably take him until all this is sorted out. He'll have more fun at your place with Fiona, anyway.”

Bree picked up the dog and smiled. “Have a nice evening.”

Cassie's cheeks must have reddened, because Bree darted into the hallway. Seemingly unaware of Cassie's embarrassment, Nate followed Bree, and Cassie locked the door behind him.

* * *

Nate escorted Breanna safely to her car, then decided to walk the block to see if the suspicious-looking man Cassie had noticed was still hanging around. Other than the fire department making sure the Dumpster fire was out, Main Street was relatively quiet. There was no sign of the guy.

As he made his way back to Cassie's apartment, his phone vibrated. He pulled it off his belt. It was his mentor, former Police Chief Washburn.

“Chief,” Nate said.

“Heard you've had a busy twenty-four hours.”

“Nothing I can't handle.”

“That's what I've been saying.”

Nate hesitated outside Cassie's apartment building. “Have you been getting calls?”

“Just one or two.”

Which probably meant half a dozen, but the chief didn't want to worry Nate.

“Do I need to hold a press conference?” Nate half joked.

“Nothing that public. But be willing to talk to people if they ask questions. It's not every day a dead body shows up in town.”

“I get it, I do, but my primary focus has to be solving the case.”

“I hear frustration in your voice. If there's anything I can do to help, I'm here, trying to enjoy retirement, and failing miserably, by the way.”

“Thanks. I might take you up on that offer. You're around this week?”

“Around with a honey-do list in hand. Nothing that can't wait. I'm serious, son, call if you need anything.”

“Will do. Have a good night.”

“You, too. And Nate?”

“Sir?”

“I recommended you for the job because I have one hundred and twenty percent confidence in your abilities.”

“Thank you, sir.” Nate ended the call.

What did Nate have to do to convince the townsfolk that he was a solid choice for chief, that he could protect them as well as Chief Washburn had for the past twenty years?

He went to Cassie's building and she buzzed him in. Once upstairs, he spotted her peering through a crack in her apartment door.

“You took longer than I thought.” She motioned him inside.

“Got a call from Chief Washburn.”

“Everything okay?”

“As long as I solve this case by tomorrow, sure.”

“People have been calling him?” She sat down on the sofa.

“How'd you guess?”

“I've lived in this town for twenty-six years, remember? People worry when they hear things and don't know what's going on. It's not a personal reflection on you or anything.”

“Thanks.”

“No, thank you for taking Bree to her car. You should have let her stay so you wouldn't have to.”

“It's my job.”

An odd, almost pained expression flashed across her face. She motioned to the TV.

“I was watching television, unless you'd prefer quiet.”

“Television's fine.”

It didn't surprise him that the station was tuned to a travel show.

He sat down on the sofa, a safe distance away from her. “So, Ireland, huh?” he said, nodding at the screen.

“England, France, Switzerland and eventually Australia, although that's a superlong flight. I'd need tons of plane activities to get me through that one.”

“Plane activities?”

“Sure, movies, puzzles, books, you know, activities.”

He couldn't help but smile. This woman fascinated him on so many levels, especially her enthusiasm for life and new experiences.