The Unrelenting Tide (Islands of Intrigue: San Juans - Christian Romantic Suspense) (3 page)

Speaking of which, she needed to get back to her sewing room. A quick stroll to the end of the dock, and a dip of her feet into the chilly water and then she took the pine-needled path back toward the house. At the mid-level deck she slipped out of her water shoes, hosed off her feet, and dried them on the towel. She pulled her house keys from her pocket but when she reached for the slider it stood open about six inches.

Devynne’s heart lurched and oxygen suddenly seemed elusive. She backed away from the door.

I locked it, didn’t I?

Her gaze darted from window to window.

No lights on. Nothing on the deck seemed disturbed. Geraniums still on the rail. Marissa’s sandbox still a scattered mess of toys. Only the door…

She pressed a hand to her thundering heart and forced a calming breath.

No forget that
. There was absolutely nothing to be calm about in this situation! She spun around to flee.

A whisper of sound behind her. She gasped. Started to turn. But a sweaty palm clamped over her mouth and strong arms jerked her up tight against a hard wall of muscle and bone.

Not again
! She swung her elbow with all her might and connected solidly.

The intruder didn’t budge or make a sound. He only readjusted his grip so that her arms, pressed against her sides, cinched down within the noose of his grasp.

Her toes left the ground as he hauled her toward the doorway. Terror surged, sapping her of the strength to fight.

Chapter 4

Carcen tapped the steering wheel with the fingers of one hand as he drove towards Devynne’s house.

After the game he had made arrangements with his parents for Marissa to stay the night with them so he would have a chance to talk to Devynne uninterrupted.

His mother was more than happy to watch her granddaughter, saying she didn’t get the chance often enough. Carcen knew she and Dad worried about Devynne as much as he did since Kent’s death four years ago.

He sighed. He and Kent had always been close and when he arrived on the scene too late to save his twin’s life it had torn him apart.

Carcen had run the scene of Kent’s death over and over in his mind.

Could he have gotten there quicker after Devynne’s call? Done something different? Anything that might have changed the outcome of that terrible day?

Yet all of his musing and pondering continually came back to the same realization. No matter what he had done differently Kent would still be dead. The shot to his head had killed him instantly.

He pressed thumb and forefinger to his eyes for just a moment, wishing he could erase the memory of his brother sprawled amidst the jumble of cracker boxes in the center aisle of Island Grocers. Erase the memory of Devynne’s stricken face as she’d carried the newborn Marissa out of the restroom at the back of the store and caught a glimpse of Kent’s body. Erase the memory of the moment he’d realized Marissa would never get to know her daddy.

Carcen’s thoughts turned to his niece.

At the end of the game tonight Marissa had been beside herself with excitement. “We did it Uncle Cawce! We did it. We beat that mean ol’ team!” She danced a little jig around his legs, then suddenly stopped, becoming serious. “Mama’d a had fun. I wish she’d a come tonight.”

He ruffled her hair. “Maybe next time.”

Her lip protruded. “That’s what she always says.”

Carcen glanced away. Yes, the time had definitely come to talk to Devynne. He looked at his mother and saw tears spring into her eyes.

His father, Lamar, pulled her into a one armed embrace and looking down at his granddaughter, said, “How about some ice cream on the way home tonight? Would you like that?”

Marissa’s eyes lit up, the change of subject going unnoticed. “Bubble gum. I want bubble gum kind.”

Carcen softened at the memory. The little girl got along just fine without her daddy. Her mother, well now, there was a different story. Was her grief really still so debilitating? Or was there something deeper going on? He intended to find out.

He slowed to a stop in the half-circle driveway, cut the engine and sat staring down the steep stairs toward the house for a moment. Devynne’s house, a gambrel-shaped, cedar-paneled, tri-story, sat out on a rocky promontory surrounded by ocean, cedar, and salal. Here the slope down to the water was very abrupt, and her house stood out against the early evening dusk glimmering on the ocean. The kitchen’s garden-window glowed with light.

Good.
That probably meant she’d left off sewing for the evening.
At least she won’t be able to use work as an excuse not to talk to me about this
. Stepping out of the truck, he headed down toward the kitchen door.

A loud crash of shattering glass sounded from inside the house.

Devynne
! Snatching his backup piece from his ankle holster, he squatted on a landing halfway down the steps. The kitchen door stood ajar several inches. From inside the house he heard a loud bang and a shriek.

Heart clogging his throat, he grabbed out his phone and pressed 9-1-1. He didn’t wait for Jennifer, the dispatcher, to finish her greeting before he said in a low voice, “Jen, this is Sheriff Carcen Lang, reporting a crime in progress at 1020 Seamist Drive, Friday Harbor. I’m off duty. Requesting backup. Looks like a break-in.” He punched the off button and sprinted down the last few steps.

Pausing, he reached out one hand and pushed the door open, gun thrust ahead of him. The kitchen lay silent, but on the far side of the great room, an assailant, his back to the kitchen, clutched Devynne in a choke-hold. Devynne scrabbled and twisted, doing her best to get free.

Carcen’s pulse pounded in his ears as fury surged through him, but his years of training kicked in. Ski mask. Medium height. Medium build. Perp murmuring to Devynne in a sick voice. Gloves. But no visible weapon.

No time to wait for backup.

“Police!” He widened his stance, gun extended. “Freeze!”

The intruder jolted around, jerking Devynne in front of himself like a shield. Then, as his wide eyes settled first on Carcen and then on the gun, he shoved Devynne forward and dashed out the sliding door just behind him.

“Carcen!” Terror laced Devynne’s voice as she stumbled toward him, her body blocking his line of fire.

He hurried to her, grabbed her shoulder, and steadied her with one hand. “Are you hurt?”

She gulped for air, but shook her head.

“Was there anyone else?”

“No. Just him.” Her eyes widened. “Where’s Marissa?”

“She’s fine.” He held up a hand to reassure her. “I left her with Mom and Dad.” He swallowed hard and scanned her from head to toe. What he wanted to do most was pull her into an embrace and never let her go. Instead, he shook himself to attention and lurched past her. “Stay here!”

“Carcen, don’t!”

But he was already on the deck scanning the area.
There
. South side. Angling away from him toward the neighbor’s house through the salal. Faster to go back through the house.

Carcen dashed through the house again, ignoring Devynne’s call to wait for backup, and hit the kitchen deck at a full out sprint. He leapt down the step to the yard and through the rose bushes in the flowerbed. Thorns clawed his forearms, but he ignored the pain and raced across the wooded lawn.

Devynne’s small yard gave way to the thick undergrowth of native plants and vines. Only a narrow overgrown deer path cut through it to the south. The perp was already barely visible through the brush. This was dangerous territory. The man could turn this into an ambush without too much forethought. Still, Carcen pressed on. He needed to catch this guy!

Sirens pealed faintly in the distance, but grew louder by the second. Good. The perp would likely run up the hill past the neighbors and then turn south on the road, since going north would take him past Devynne’s house again. Backup would hopefully see the man.
If I don’t find him first
.

Carcen pushed into a thick tangle of brush and scanned the area ahead. No one in sight. He slowed, pulled in a long draw of air, stretched his gun out, and forced himself to think; be cautious. He didn’t have his vest on, and the last thing he needed was to walk into the path of a bullet.

Tires screeched to a halt up on the road. Red and blue lights strobed the brush around him. Carcen glanced up. Sullivan and Boyd, solid deputies, both of them, appeared on the roadway, weapons drawn.
Good
. He gestured toward the last place he’d seen the perp.

The brush rustled off to his left. He twisted towards the sound even as a solid body crashed into him. Carcen grunted and nearly sprawled backwards. The intruder leapt ahead clearly visible now as he tried to thrash his way through the thick tangles of salal and ivy.

“Freeze!”

Sullivan and Boyd leapt through the brush from the road above.

Trapped by the sea to his left, cops behind and to his right, and hampered by the thick foliage, the man took only a few more hesitant steps before he halted. Puffing and cussing, he shoved his hands into the air.

Carcen kept his gun trained on the runner and nodded Sullivan toward him. It was only moments before the satisfying ratchet of handcuffs eased some of the tension from Carcen’s shoulders. Boyd grabbed the man’s arm and propelled him up the hill toward the waiting squad car.

Carcen glanced at Sullivan. “Can you two take care of booking him? I need to get back to the victim – my sister-in-law.”

Sullivan assented and Carcen started back.

“Hold up.” Sullivan stopped him with a grip on his arm and tipped his chin toward the house. “She hurt? Violated?”

Carcen shook his head but just the thought pitched his stomach into a dive. “I think I got here…in time.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Boyd topped out on the road and spoke into his radio as he forced the perp into the back seat. Sullivan clapped Carcen on the shoulder. “Go. We’ve got this.”

Boyd climbed into the vehicle and Sullivan started up the hill, as Carcen jogged back across the lawn.

He’d just made it to the front steps when rookie Donny Sanchez and his training partner Undersheriff Shannon Niemeyer pulled into the drive above. Shannon reached into the back seat for her processing kit, then Carcen directed them inside. They would start in the kitchen, but the likelihood of finding any prints…he clenched his teeth.

Donny Sanchez took the upper floor. He was a good kid, if a little older and more unconventional than most rookies normally were. Carcen didn’t know his exact age, but knew he’d gone to the academy after he’d spent several years straight out of highschool working private security for major corporations around the world. That experience was what had given him an edge over the other candidates when they’d been hiring last year.

Devynne still stood trembling by the sink. He’d like to go to her, but he needed to do his job – make sure the house was clear and she really was safe.

Shannon touched his arm and lifted her brow. A look that said, ‘how are you doing?’ and ‘keep it together’ all at the same time.

He nodded and mouthed, “I’m fine.”

Carcen left Shannon in the kitchen with Dev as he did a quick sweep of the lower-most level. He frowned at the thick dark drapes covering every window. She lived in a house with huge windows and a 180 degree view of the Salish Sea, yet she had them all covered. Nothing surrounded the house but woods and water. When Kent had been here the windows were left uncovered 24/7. Again an uneasy feeling gripped him. There was something she wasn’t telling him. He scrubbed a hand over his face and trudged back to the middle floor just as Sanchez came down from above.

Sanchez rubbed his jaw. “All clear, but there’s something you should see up there.”

Devynne remained in the kitchen where he’d left her with Shannon. Her eyes were glassy, but she did look up. Relief surged once more that she was alright. His gaze never leaving her face, he spoke to Donny. “Will it wait?”

From the periphery of his vision he saw the rookie nod.

“Give me a few minutes, then.” He stepped in front of her, hating the vulnerability draping her features. “We got him, Dev. He’s down at the jail being booked now.”

Donny nodded at her with a soft smile, shifting from one foot to the other. The kid was holding up alright. One day he’d turn into a fine cop.

Devynne’s knees seemed to lose strength because she collapsed back against the counter and covered her face with both trembling hands. She remained like that for a long moment then her blue gaze focused on him and she reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad you’re not hurt!”

He held her tight, smoothing his fingers over the tight muscles in her shoulders and relaxing as his eyes dropped shut. She was safe. Alive. Here in his arms. He pressed his lips into the silken hair on the top of her head.

She stiffened suddenly and pulled back swiping at her cheeks with her shirt cuffs. “Sorry. I…just…I’m glad you’re…not hurt.”

He took her elbow. They needed to talk. She was glad
he
wasn’t hurt?
She
was the one who’d been assaulted. “Let’s go into the living room.” He gestured to Shannon. “This is officer Niemeyer. She’s going to process the kitchen here. Check for fingerprints, that sort of thing. But I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Carcen.” Shannon gave him a pointed look.

His stomach churned. He didn’t want to ask. He didn’t think she’d been raped. But they needed to be sure. He gritted his teeth, then grated the question out. “Dev, did he force himself on you?”

Her gaze darted to his and he could see she didn’t understand the full depth of the question.

“Sexually? Did he rape you?”

“No.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “No. It had only been…” Her whole body trembled. “A few seconds… then you came in.” She blinked hard and pressed her lips together.

“Good. Okay, that’s good.” He glanced over at Shannon and she gave him a nod.

Donny rubbed a hand over his face, his cheeks bulging as he puffed out a breath.

Carcen touched Devynne’s arm. “Let’s go into the living room. Can I get you something to drink?”