Chapter Four
instinct urging her to turn tail and run as David took another step forward.
“What have you done?” His face washed pale in the light of the gas lamps.
Dad? Done? Adaleigh blinked. Her heart accelerated as memories of another knife began invading her consciousness.
The man in the shadows hacked, bringing her back. “Wilson needs his dues, ya know.”
“Wilson? Buck Wilson?” David’s surprisingly calm voice had a stern edge.
“See, you understand.” The man stumbled near enough now to smell the whiskey on his clothes. Bootlegged whiskey, most likely.
Claustrophobia closed in as his bad breath surrounded her. Adaleigh stepped back, but the man closed the gap. Only the young woman, lying there alone and still, kept her from running.
“I done do handyman stuff for them.” The man huffed. “Ain’t much. But it’s a fair wage, ya know. A fair wage, and I put in a hard day’s labor. A hard day’s labor, ya know?”
“Dad!” David brushed past him, headed for the young woman. “Is Amy alive?”
“Who? This pretty woman?” The man leered at Adaleigh, sending ice skittering into her stomach. The man leaned into her personal space. “Ya got cash or jewelry ya could spare for an old man? I ain’t flush, ya know.”
Panic nipped at her heart the farther away David walked. She gulped in quick breaths, but his dad’s stench suffocated her.
“You his girl?” The man breathed into Adaleigh’s face. “David ain’t done told me about his little lady.”
She clung to the sound of the waves lapping the boardwalk until the blast of a horn overwhelmed the calming of the water. She could still run, right? Keep running until no one could ever find her. If only she could get her feet to move.
“Ain’t ya gunna speak to me? Or ain’t I good enough for ya?” The drunken man swayed before her. “Well?
Adaleigh closed her eyes against the whiskey-infused breeze, which was just the chance he needed to grab her wrist with his blood-stained hand. Panic surged. Had this man killed Amy, and was he now about to do the same to her?
He pulled her closer. “Ain’t ya gunna say somethin’?”
Headlights from approaching emergency vehicles bounced off the buildings, a glaring brightness at odds with the darkness. Who called them? How were they here already? Adaleigh grasped at the frayed edges of her courage and gave Mr. Martins’s instep a decisive stomp.
“Yowch!” he shrieked, jumping away from her like she was a scorpion. “Ya little—"
“Dad!” David jogged back, inserting himself between them. “What in heaven’s name are you doing? Stay away from her.”
“I didn’t mean no harm, ya know?” Mr. Martins dragged a dirty sleeve across his nose with a sniff. “No harm.”
David set his hands on his father’s shoulders. “Don’t you realize what’s going on? This doesn’t look good …”
Adaleigh folded her arms, drawing David’s pullover tight across her shoulders. With his broad back to focus on, she was fine now. She could handle this situation. Just like the last time she came face to face with a venomous attack.
Oh, who was she kidding? David’s voice faded. Two police cars skidded to a halt, encircling them. Four officers leapt out with guns drawn.
Adaleigh’s heart raced like a horse’s at the Kentucky Derby while her lungs dipped themselves in hot lava. Shaking overtook her whole body. Then, as if she could see it happening, her knees buckled, and she landed on the cold planks of the boardwalk.
Out of the corner of his eye, David saw Leigh’s legs collapse and dropped to his knees to catch her before her head hit the ground. His elbow scraped against the rough boards as he cushioned her landing. Then he pressed two fingers to her carotid artery.
“Hands!” one of the responding officers shouted at them.
“She fainted.” David raised his free hand, eyes on Leigh. “Heart racing. Rapid breathing.”
“Martins?” The officer holstered his gun while two others hauled his dad away.
“Palmson.” David puffed out a breath as he recognized his old high school buddy. “I think she hyperventilated.”
“I gotta check you for a weapon first.” Caleb Palmson ran his hands over David’s arms, down his torso.
“My Swiss is in my left pocket.”
“Got it.” Palmson checked David’s ankles, then knelt beside him. “Friend of yours?”
“Leigh. She’s staying with us.” David lowered Leigh’s head and opened her mouth to check her airway. “Paramedics here?”
“They’re coming. Who is she?”
“She saved Matt this afternoon.”
“Really?” Palmson leaned forward to get a better view of Leigh, and an unfamiliar emotion twisted deep in David’s stomach.
He pushed the feeling away, put a hand to Leigh’s cheek, gave it a gentle pat. “Leigh, can you hear me? It’s David. You’re safe now. The cops are here.”
Her eyes flickered.
“That’s it. Just follow my voice.” He kept it as calm as he could, though his body wanted to shake like a tree in a hailstorm.
Palmson clapped David’s shoulder. “I need to ask you some questions.”
David frowned.
“I need to know what happened.”
“Am I giving you my official statement?”
“Nope.” Another voice cut in. “I’m taking it.”
David held in a sigh. Chief Albert Sebastian. The man had a chip on his shoulder the size of Gibraltar and seemed to have it out for anyone related to Uncle Mike. Why? Because the rotund, gray-haired man had been on the force as long as Uncle Mike, but the previous chief awarded Uncle Mike the special investigations position, not Sebastian. Then Sebastian became chief and never let anyone forget it.
Palmson gave David an apologetic shrug before deserting him.
David protested leaving Leigh—who was waking without aid of smelling salts—with the paramedic who followed in Sebastian’s wake, but the officer gave David no choice. With a hand to the elbow, Sebastian directed David to a quiet area near the water, and David rested his hands on his hips, bracing for the questions.
Sebastian poised a pencil over a small notepad. “Start from the beginning.”
“Leigh and I were walking—”
“Who’s Leigh?”
David nodded behind him. The paramedic had her sitting up, and she appeared fully conscious, at least from this distance.
“And who is she?“ Sebastian raised his eyebrows.
David kept a tight grip on his tone. “A visitor. She’s staying with us. And she’s also the one who rescued Matt earlier today.”
“So she had a run-in with the victim.” Statement, not question.
“A what!” David bit back a growl. He couldn’t make these worse by losing his temper. “I cannot speak to that, Chief.”
“The stranger rescued Amy’s charge. That’s a run-in and a motive.”
David inhaled the fishy scent of water. This was why Uncle Mike made Special Investigations and Sebastian did not. The man was an idiot. “Honestly, I doubt they met at all. I saw Leigh in the water, nowhere near Miss Littleburg, after rescuing Matt.” And nearly drowning, too.
“Precisely. Matt, who the victim was employed as a babysitter to watch over.”
David sighed. God, give me patience with this man.
Sebastian tapped his pencil on the paper. “How do you know Leigh?”
“Why are you asking so much about Leigh?”
“I ask the questions, Martins. Tell me about Leigh.”
“I have, and she had nothing to do with Amy’s death.” David splayed his hands, then dropped them to his sides.
“How would you know? She’s a stranger here.”
“Because I’m her alibi. And unless you ask me relevant questions, we’re finished talking.”
“Don’t obstruct my investigation, Martins.”
“Then ask me a—” David swallowed back the adjective he wanted to use. Being a sailor didn’t mean talking like one. “Just ask me a legitimate question.”
Sebastian still frowned at David’s choice of words. “Why were you and Leigh on the wharf?”
“We were out for a walk.” David glanced back at where the paramedics had moved Leigh to sit in the open doorway of the back of the ambulance. “Like everyone else this Memorial Day. Honestly, I still have no idea what this—”
Sebastian held up a hand. “When you first saw the victim, what did you see?”
David blew out a breath. “She was lying on the ground, and my father was leaning over her.” What were you doing, Dad?
“So you saw him murder her?”
“That is not what I said.”
“You saw him put the knife in her.”
“No.” David clenched his jaw, as if that could bite back the sting in his eyes.
“Then what did you see?”
“He was leaning over her.” David blinked the image away. “Maybe he was trying to save her.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “He’s drunk, Martins. That alone proves he’s a criminal. How was he supposed to save her?”
“Look, Chief, I will not make subjective observations. Opinions that could be misconstrued. I’ll only report the facts as I experienced them.”
One of the man’s brows shot up. “Do not get testy with me.”
David stared back.
“What did you do when you saw your father standing over the murdered woman?”
“I called out to him, and he came over to me and Leigh.”
“And?”
“And then I went to check on Amy.”
“Because?”
“Because? Really, Chief?” He waved his arm. “What was I supposed to do? I have first-aid training, and if she was alive, I wanted to help her.”
“Did you?”
David ran a hand over his head. “She had no pulse and no respirations.”
“So she was dead.”
“I am not qualified to make that call.”
“But you just said—”
“That I detected no pulse and no respirations.”
“That means she’s dead.”
David clenched his teeth. Only a doctor could make that call.
“Fine.” The man made a note, seeming pleased with himself. “Then what?”
He wasn’t about to add a nail to his dad’s coffin, so he skipped over the cause of what he noticed next. “I heard Leigh breathing erratically, so I returned to where she and my dad stood.”
“And?”
“And she fainted.” David pressed his lips together. He recognized her condition for what it was—overwhelming fear, but he refused to say a word about it. Felt guilty he hadn’t paid close enough attention to stop her from losing consciousness, even though he’d seen it before in other people.
“Martins.”
“Then you all showed up. End of story.”
“I doubt it, but okay, I’ll let it go for now. I need a written statement.”
“I need to speak with my father.” And Leigh.
“I cannot allow you to do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re arresting him for the murder of Amy Littleburg.”
Fortunately, Adaleigh’s awareness fully returned before the paramedics could whisk her off to a hospital she didn’t know. When she insisted she was fine, they let her sit on the back bumper of the ambulance while she waited for David.
Her body shivered even though she now had a blanket over her shoulders in addition to her sweater and David’s pullover, which she now wore. She forced her breathing to slow. She was alive. She would be okay.
The hubbub breached her cocoon. Someone covered the woman’s body with a sheet. Two officers pushed a fighting Mr. Martins into the back of a police car. A murmuring crowd gathered on the periphery. Adaleigh kept scanning until she found David. He was talking with an officer near the water. David’s frown said enough.
That’s when she heard a familiar—and surprisingly welcome—voice. Detective O’Connor. “This had better be good, waking me at this time of night for something that shouldn’t requi …” He surveyed the scene and removed his hat. “For the love of all that is holy.”
He briefly made the rounds, talking first with David, then the detective, then the paramedics. Finally, he came to sit next to Adaleigh.
“Not the most pleasant welcome to Crow’s Nest.” He swung his hat between his legs.
Adaleigh managed a smile.
“Your fainting spell doesn’t make you the most reliable witness, I’m afraid, but I’d like your statement, and Chief Sebastian won’t let me take it without him.”
She worked her tongue around her dry mouth. “Are you taking the case?”
He studied her with those all-seeing eyes. Finally, he shrugged. “Family is involved.”
Right. She shivered.
His mustache bobbed, then he stood. “I’ll have David take you to my sister’s tonight. I’ll bring Sebastian over to talk tomorrow. I’ve convinced him to wait that long, at least.” He waved for David to come over.
“Uncle Mike, Dad might be blundering drunk, but I won’t leave him to take the rap for murder,” David said as soon as he was within earshot. Honestly, he looked like a porcupine, hair sticking up and all sharp edges, ready to strike if anyone, friend or foe, made the wrong move.
“I’ll take care of your dad.” Detective O’Connor took the blanket from Adaleigh’s shoulders. “You need to take her home.”
“But—”
“David.” Detective O’Connor glared David’s quills into submission. “We’ll find out what happened, but right now, the best thing you can do is take Leigh back to my sister’s.”
David’s expressions varied as his internal battle waged. Adaleigh tried not to take his reluctance personally. Finally, he nodded and held out a hand to help her to her feet. “You look beat.”
“Be nice to the woman.” Detective O’Conner slapped the back of David’s head with his hat. “She had to deal with your father tonight.”
David looked sheepish, and Adaleigh couldn’t help but smile.
For the first several minutes, David and Leigh walked silently, side-by-side. His mind raced with implications and questions. It made him nauseous. Something being on a boat had never done, even in the worst storms. If only he could escape to the water now, find the peace he needed.
Uncle Mike had helped them dodge the crowd, and David led Leigh along quiet streets. The dampening air chilled his back through his cotton shirt. He pushed the cold aside when he noticed Leigh folding her arms tight against her chest.
“You okay?” He should have asked sooner.
Leigh nodded. She wore his pullover now, instead of resting it over her shoulders. It made her appear small, fragile, and he had the overwhelming urge to pull her next to him, tuck her under his arm.
Instead, he said, “I wish I had another coat to offer.”
She turned warm eyes on him. “Perhaps your grandma has something warm to drink?”
“I’m sure she—” Oh God, no. How could he tell her about his father? Sam, Patrick, they didn’t deserve this. What was he going to do?
“Hey.” Leigh’s hand touched his forearm. “It’s going to be okay.”
“How do you know that?” He pulled away even while wanting to desperately reach for Leigh’s comfort as the reality of his father’s situation rent his heart. “Leigh, I’m the witness. I’m the one who has to say that I found him there, like that. Me. His own son.”
“We.” Leigh caught his rough hands. “We saw him. I’m a witness, too.”
“I’m sorry about tonight.” He clasped her fingers. “I shouldn’t have asked—”
“How were you to know tonight would end as it has? Only God has that power. None of it was your fault.” Her voice caught, and she yanked back, slipping her hands inside the large sleeves of his pullover.
David blinked at her rapid withdrawal.
A sniff. A quick breath. And Leigh flashed him a winsome smile that went nowhere near her eyes. “I’m still holding out for that warm drink, so the night’s not over yet.”
No, no, it wasn’t.
The empty room Mrs. Martins lent to Adaleigh was up two flights of stairs in what was actually the attic. The edges of the ceiling touched the floor, leaving little room to stand upright except in the middle. A bed was tucked into one corner, opposite a short wardrobe and a washstand, with a pitcher and bowl covered in painted roses. One dormer window gave a view over several blocks of houses to the lake. The water gaped like an empty black hole, sucking the horizon into its depths. She shuddered.
“This should give you enough privacy,” David explained as he leaned on the doorframe. “Sam, Patrick, and I sleep on the second floor. Grandma’s room is on the first floor. Do you have any luggage I can bring up?”
“Just this.” Adaleigh swung the knapsack off her shoulder and onto the bed. It had a soft-looking pillow, and a faded quilt that matched the large braided rug. It felt like ages since she’d slept in a real bed, though it had only been a month. “I left my JD tucked away on the other side of town. I can get it tomorrow.”
“Your what?”
“Motorcycle.” Adaleigh plopped down next to her knapsack. The bed creaked, and the mattress was nowhere near the quality of the one she’d grown up sleeping on, but after the last few weeks—after the last hour—it felt like a giant cloud, reaching its gooey arms around her and taunting her with a warmth that couldn’t reach her soul. She needed that tea or she’d never sleep.
“Didn’t expect that.”
“Huh?” Adaleigh shook herself. Right. Person—man—still in the room.
“You’re a … “ David tapped the toe of his shoe on the floor, “… girl.”
She chuckled but didn’t reply. Sure, she could have explained it was just her rebellious side or berated him for thinking less of her mode of transportation based on her gender or urged him to get tea started so she could finally warm up, but she waited in silence, knowing he had something else he wanted to say.
Finally, he let out a quick breath. “Thanks for going out tonight, even with the way it ended.” Without waiting for a reply, he thumped the doorframe. “I’ll get that tea started.”
Without moving, she listened to his footsteps fade down the steps. Tonight had proved a good reminder she wasn’t the only hurting person in the world, in this house. After waiting a few minutes to feel fully chastised for her selfishness, she wandered downstairs to find David holding two cups of tea, the smell of peppermint reaching her from across the room. The summer night was still too beautiful to stay inside, especially after the tragic events of the evening, so they sat in the backyard; him on the chair, her in the rocker.
Adaleigh gripped her cup with both hands and held it to her nose. The steam finally warmed her, the cool mint calmed her. A breeze rustled the top of the large oak standing guard next door. Clouds parted and a few stars peeped out. Crickets chirped. Surely, she could hear waves crashing if she stayed perfectly still. It was a moment she would remember for a long time.
David let out a deep sigh. “I have resented my father ever since he left. Never understood why he would abandon us so soon after Mom died. I get that he started drinking, but what about us?”
Her heart filled with a kindred pain. She let him go on.
“He’s become a good-for-nothing man, but he’s not a murderer. Dad wouldn’t have killed her. He couldn’t have. Right?”
Adaleigh tightened her grip on her cup as if it were the emotions rolling in her chest.
“I just can’t help thinking, what if …”
What could she say? That she knew exactly how he felt? That she understood his guilt? The pain. The questions.
“People know my dad and all his rough edges,” David said, staring out into the darkness. “Lots of people get drunk here, despite the prohibition on it, so mostly people look the other way.”
She hadn’t obtained her degree in psychology without learning to easily identify when someone needed a listening ear, and David showed a classic case. Sometimes it was easier spilling personal thoughts to a stranger than a friend, so she settled back, rocking gently.
He set his mug on the table between them and put his head in his hands. “Now I learn he’s been doing work for Buck Wilson. Of all things.”
“Who’s Buck Wilson?” Her question was barely above a whisper.
“You heard Uncle Mike talk about the Crow’s Nest Conglomerate? It started as a good thing.” David relaxed into his chair, seemingly grateful to leave the emotional behind. “About a decade ago, Perry Baxter managed to bring together several small businesses to create a type of union. The businesses, including shops, mechanics, even fishermen, paid into the conglomerate in exchange for help with legal fees, or whatever type of protection they needed.
“About a year ago, a cocky up-and-comer, Buck Wilson, deposed old Perry and has turned the Crow’s Nest Conglomerate into a power-hungry organism with some questionable practices. He expects members of the conglomerate to pay higher dues in exchange for his services, but if anyone wants out, he runs their business into the ground.”
“That’s horrible and can’t be legal.”
“Uncle Mike has been trying to close it down, but nothing sticks. It began as a legitimate business, so it’s hard to prove otherwise, even if everyone knows what’s going on. Nobody will talk on the record, and Buck retains the best lawyers. That’s why Uncle Mike was called in tonight.”
“He seems really good at his job, David. He’ll figure this out.”
“Uncle Mike can only follow the conglomerate angle, and the other officers, especially the chief, Sebastian, won’t look past my dad.” He rubbed his thumb. “Part of me wants to let him rot, but I can’t. I’ve been taking care of this family for too long to let his reputation burn us even more.”
Adaleigh understood too well.
Perhaps she could help, use her psychology and rhetoric skills to aid this family who took her in. As a witness, the cops probably wouldn’t let her leave town for a couple of days, anyway. She’d need to keep her head down to stay out of her sister’s search area, but if she was truly honest with herself, she’d always regret not trying to help. She would do anything to reverse what happened to her family. Perhaps God was giving her a second chance.
The curiosity Leigh ignited in David flared with her offer to help. So many questions leapt to mind, but he didn’t want her to feel like he was cross-examining her. Especially after tonight. So when she simply nodded instead of answering him when he clarified that she was willing to help perfect strangers, he didn’t push.
He also wanted to start planning how to exonerate his dad, but Leigh’s yawn reminded him he needed to be on the dock at three-thirty in the morning. Four hours from now. And people wondered why he didn’t date or party or do anything but go to bed early on a Friday night.
How the other first mates functioned on no sleep, he didn’t know. Maybe they took naps at midday. He didn’t have that luxury, not as Mann’s office manager. The hours not fishing were spent at the shanty. Even on the weekend. He’d find time, though, and he’d figure this out. With Leigh’s help. If she stayed that long.
For now, he escorted her upstairs, bidding her goodnight at the steps leading to the attic. As he lay in bed, however, she invaded his thoughts. How could someone wedge herself into his heart within a few hours? God, I need wisdom here. I’m in way over my head … in more ways than one … and I don’t know what to do.