Shadow Point Deputy. Julie Anne Lindsey
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not on Cole’s watch.
He eased his foot off the pedal as the small college town popped up around him with its spirit shops and mascot-logoed flags on every lamppost. The pounding of a marching band’s bass line thundered in the distance.
Hordes of distracted students took their sweet time jaywalking across the street in front of him, holding him up, keeping him from Rita. He tapped his thumbs against the wheel and considered using the siren, though it had no jurisdiction here. The water behind them had officially yielded his badge void. “Come on,” he growled, the fear in Rita’s voice still ringing in his ears.
The street cleared, and the light overhead turned red. “Dammit!”
Cole snatched his phone off the passenger seat where he’d tossed it and dialed West. He should’ve called him sooner. Told him about Rita’s confession. Asked where the library was. Now he was wasting precious time and growing unhappier by the second.
“Sheriff Garrett.” West answered on the first ring.
Cole rolled his eyes. “Hey. I’m over in Rivertown, meeting Rita. She called to tell me she was at the docks last night.”
The line was silent for a long beat before West cursed quietly under his breath. “She bought the cat food.”
“Looks like it. At least now we know why someone tossed her place this morning.” And why she’d been so on edge. It also explained why she’d left work feeling sick, but hadn’t looked it. “She thinks the killer’s stalking her.”
West swore again. Louder this time. “Why are you in Rivertown? Bring her to the station so we can talk.”
The light changed, and Cole inched into the intersection before another swarm of students could hold him up again. “I’m not clear on the why yet. She asked me to meet her at the library. I think her little brother is a student here. She could be checking up on him.”
“Was he with her last night?” West asked. “Did she tell you anything else?”
“No.” Cole scanned the crowded sidewalks. “Where is the library?” He could find it himself with a little more time. The campus wasn’t big, but time was something Cole didn’t have to spare. “I haven’t been here since high school. Were there always this many people?” He checked each passing face for the woman he longed to save, but she wasn’t among the crowds.
West gave him blow-by-blow directions to the center of campus.
A white marble fountain stood proudly outside the building marked Library, spraying crystal clear water into the cloudless blue sky. Cole took the last available parking spot and fed the meter a handful of quarters before jogging through the library’s front door.
RITA ORDERED A cup of hot tea and took a seat at the window inside a nearby café. The library had been uncomfortably silent and borderline terrifying. Not enough witnesses. She hadn’t been able to stay. Her imagination had wreaked havoc within seconds, and she’d darted back onto the crowded, familiar streets for a deep breath of air. A café with large window and view of the library seemed a smart compromise. From here, she’d see Cole’s arrival.
Rita pointed her chair at the window. Paranoia crawled over her skin like a thousand baby spiders. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t safe, not even in another town. As if the bridge and river weren’t enough distance to protect her from whatever was happening. She inhaled the aroma of her drink and willed the sweet steam to ease her jangled nerves. She also tried closing her lids and counting to ten.
Nothing helped.
Rita let her gaze make quick and continuous loops around the square between sips, checking the street and sidewalks in both directions. So far, no sign of Cole Garrett or any other Cade County deputies.
Good, evil or otherwise.
A clutch of women in blue-and-white hoodies crossed the street, leaving a black sedan in clear view. The vehicle crept along the street outside, dark tinted windows staring back at her, and disappeared around the corner.
Rita worked to swallow the mouthful of suddenly tasteless tea before she choked on it. Sedans are common, she told herself.
Breathe. Relax. Deputy Garrett is on his way.
Wasn’t he? Her gaze jumped to the library entrance across the street. Where was he?
She pushed the teacup aside and leaned over the table on her elbows, stretching for a look in the direction the sedan had gone.
The little bell over the café’s front door jingled, setting her back on her seat. A man strode inside. Too old to be a student. Too casual for a professor. He locked gazes with her, and Rita tilted her head to take him in. There was something in his stride that sent her heart into a fresh sprint. He lifted his brows, and Rita spun in her chair, fixing her eyes on the library outside once more.
It’s not him. It’s not him, she chanted mentally.
Rita kept the silent refrain going, but couldn’t bring herself to believe the words. How could she be sure? She hadn’t seen either man’s face clearly last night, but the sedan had just rolled by... Rita peeked over her shoulder at the man, now poised at the counter.
The long angles of his arms and lean cut of his waist drew itchy memories over her skin. Was this the same man from her office earlier today? If so, what had happened to the deputy jacket?
The memory of hushed footfalls echoed in her mind, making her breaths shudder.
Her tummy rocked, and an uncomfortable sheen of sweat broke over her goose-pimpled skin. She wasn’t built for this kind of life. She’d made herself sick many times with worry, always about her brother’s well-being or the health and safety of others. She worried about homeless and injured animals, her fledgling garden and whether or not she’d left the iron on. Those were problems she could deal with. This...
She imagined the man at the counter in a bulky deputy’s jacket, marching her way, chasing her through the night. What if he approached her discreetly and pressed a gun to her back? Then tossed her in the trunk and drove her to the river?
Nope.
She gathered the straps of her bags with hasty fingers and slid, nearly fell, off her chair, but the packed-up laptop case caught on the table’s edge. “Sorry,” she apologized to no one in particular, before stumbling over the table leg and ramming her shoulder into the café door on her way out. Cole or no Cole, Rita couldn’t stay. She ducked her head against the number of stunned faces still inside the café, now watching her as she passed the window outside.
The newcomer’s eyes were narrow, and his lips were turned down. He made a move for the door, but Rita didn’t wait to see where he was headed.
Her flying heart carried her through knots and clusters of students on street corners and outside shops. She darted around a lamppost and into a bookstore she knew had a back exit that opened into a brick courtyard with a gate to an alley. She’d used them both many times during her four-year tenure in Rivertown, perpetually running late to class, often the result of a novel she couldn’t put down.
Street noise filled her ears as she landed in the store’s rear courtyard. A sprinkle of quiet students in wooden lounge chairs glanced her way, then back to their phones or books, unconcerned by her sudden and probably wild appearance.
Rita followed the picket fence at a crouch. She peeked over the top once, after a strong internal pep talk to convince herself it was important to see the bad guy before he saw her.
She stopped at the rear gate and pressed her forehead to the cool wooden slats. Anxiety twisted her gut and paralyzed her limbs. Maybe she didn’t have to go out there again. Maybe Cole could meet here where she was.
She rubbed her sweat-slicked palms over her jeans, one by one, juggling the phone with each move. Then she hunched her shoulders over her cell phone and sent a text to Deputy Garrett.
Where