Unfortunate Homecoming, page 6
“I––well––I just––”
Shaun marched over to her. “You just what? You’d be standing here right now facing a potential killer instead of me. That’s what.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I was worried about you.” She ran into the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth from the shelf above the toilet. After running it under cold water and squeezing out the excess, she returned to him and wiped his brow with tender care.
She was worried. With her brow furrowed and amber eyes clouded with concern, she studied his face for injuries. Then she locked gazes with him and sucked in her breath. She broke their lock after a minute and blew out her breath while shoving the washcloth into his right hand. “You’re a big boy. You can do this yourself.”
“Never doubted that I could. Been doing it myself for quite a while. But right now, we have bigger things to worry about than some cuts and bruises and who can take care of themselves.” He pointed behind him. “There’s an intruder tied up in my room, and we need to get the sheriff.”
Sierra gasped. “We’re taking him to the sheriff? What if he breaks free and kills us while we’re in the car with him?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s unarmed.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the staircase. “I’ll get you safely locked in my truck then come back for him.”
She tugged her hand away from his at the top of the stairs. “No. You stay here and guard him. I’ll get the sheriff.”
“No, we go together.” Shaun continued down the stairs and listened for her footsteps to land on the creaky steps behind him. When they did, he smirked. “We have to go together because I have no cell reception. If you get into trouble halfway down my path to the road, I won’t know.”
“Fine!”
When they made it to the door, Shaun yanked the chair from under the doorknob and popped the door open but halted. “You need to get your purse. If his accomplice comes in while we’re gone, I don’t want them having access to your vitals.”
Sierra smacked her forehead. “Oh, you’re right! Thank you!”
When she returned to the doorway, Shaun reminded her to step over the rats then they were on their way. Except when they got to his truck, reality punched him in the gut. “What the—”
“What?”
Shaun pointed to his tires.
Sierra let out a scream that pierced the quiet night air.
“Calm down. We’ll be okay. A few flat tires won’t stop us. We’ll go in your car.” He reached his hand out for her keys.
But she shook her head and pointed to her tires.
Shaun stomped his foot and let out a stream of words that he was sure Pastor George would chastise him for. But they were justified. They weren’t going anywhere with eight flat tires.
“No worries! My ATV is in the barn. Stay here.” He dashed away but the sound of her shoes crunching on the path behind him halted him and sent her crashing into his back. He spun around. “What are you doing?”
“I’m coming with you. Haven’t you learned by now that I’m not staying for one second anywhere on this property by myself? Getting my ankle caught in a trap is the extent of the injuries I wish to receive. Got it?”
He nodded and resumed his quest to the barn. While he was out there, he’d grab his shotgun and store it in the shrubs in front of the porch.
At the barn, he growled. The door was ajar. Which had to mean that the intruder had been in here. He creaked the door open and poked in his head. “Stay back. The door wasn’t latched so someone could be in here.”
Sierra made a weird squeaky sound then ducked behind the door and pressed her body against the wall. This trauma needed to end soon or her pregnancy could be in jeopardy.
Wishing he had a cell phone with him for the flashlight, he tiptoed over to the rack where he kept his shotgun. His mouth went dry and his heart stopped when he dragged his hand across an empty rack.
They had taken his shotgun. Which meant if they were plotting a murder, he could be a suspect if not the victim.
Stumbling in the dark over to his ATV, Shaun jumped in and cranked it, flipping the headlights on and shifting it into gear. Only a few feet of flopping across the concrete slab told Shaun everything he never wanted to know about the situation. The ATV’s tires were flat too.
“Shaun?” Sierra stepped into the open doorway, the headlights illuminating her frame.
“The tires are flat. And my shotgun is gone.” He turned off the ATV and shut off the headlights but not before witnessing Sierra collapse on the ground. “Sierra!” He ran to her and knelt. “It’s going to be okay. We’re getting out of here.”
Through sobs and a shaking head full of curls, she screamed. “How? We’re trapped.”
“No, my boat is on my dock. We just need to make it down the boardwalk to the river. It’s about a half a mile. Can you make it?”
“I think so.”
Shaun pulled her to her feet. “You’ve got your phone?”
She nodded.
“Okay, I’ll grab a flashlight. We’ll check partially there to see if you’ve got a signal. If so, we’ll call the sheriff and wait for him there.”
The moonlight peeking out from a cloud illuminated the slight smile on her face. But they didn’t have time to bask in this glimmer of hope. Someone could be tracking them already and they didn’t have time to waste.
“I’ll shine the beam on the path so we don’t step on any traps or critters.”
Night had never seemed so dark before. When had he ever walked through dark woods on the run from a potential killer protecting a woman? A pregnant woman, at that?
Never.
And while Sierra wasn’t exactly a damsel in distress, her ankle would slow her down. Plus, she was in a high-risk pregnancy and the most magnificent woman on this earth. Those things alone made what they were doing right now dangerous. That dragon ate away at him more than the prospect of fire consuming his property three nights ago. His only goal was protecting Sierra and getting her to safety.
Even if he died in the process.
About fifty feet into the woods, they came to the gazebo pitstop on the boardwalk to the river. Whoever had owned this house years ago had gone through an enormous amount of trouble to build a secure pathway through the marshy and wooded areas.
Shaun clicked off the flashlight and waited a minute for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. “Let’s wait a sec and listen out for incoming.”
He clasped her arm and pulled her over toward the gazebo. When a motion sensor light popped on, they both jumped in alarm. Shaun whispered, “Guess the previous owner came out here at night a lot?”
They sat on the bench and kept still until the light clicked off. Sierra opened her phone and pressed 911. Whacking him on the arm a few times, she showed him the phone screen.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“Yes, this is Deputy Fire Marshal Sierra Beaumonte. I’m out at Shaun Bartley’s place at 222 River Route. We’ve been attacked by an intruder who Mr. Bartley subdued, but we believe there may be an accomplice. Someone flattened our tires so we can’t leave. Please send the sheriff.”
“Sending units now. What is your location on the property?”
“We are currently hiding in the woods.”
“Stay there. Deputies will be there in five minutes.”
After Sierra disconnected the call, she slipped her phone into her purse and sighed.
Shaun patted her leg. “It’s almost over.”
“Maybe this part. But it’s just beginning for you. You’ve got to figure out why someone wants to hurt you.”
“Or if someone who lived here before me left something behind and they came back looking for it.”
“Or if they just want you off the property.”
“Right.”
Since there had been no communication other than the dead rats, Shaun didn’t know what direction to let his mind go. This could be anything. Kids playing pranks. Drug dealers wanting to claim the property. A former owner angry over the foreclosure.
“Any truth to the buried treasure rumors?”
Shaun laughed. “Come on. Not you too. Those rumors of Spanish galleons and pirates robbing them and burying the treasure around Mobile Bay and Weeks Bay are almost as old as this entire area. If––and that’s a big if—someone had buried treasure here, it wouldn’t be in the house. Could be somewhere close to the river bank but seems like with floods over the years, anything buried would’ve been discovered by now.”
“But what if your ancestor buried treasure under the house?”
“John Paul? I––I don’t know. I mean, I guess it’s always possible, but how would anyone know that?”
“Did he have a will? Any memorabilia at all?”
As sirens filled the night air, piercing the quiet of the woods, Shaun’s spine began to tingle and his heart rate rose at the prospect of treasure. Could his old junker of a house be worth something? Could a missing key about his family be waiting to be discovered in the underbelly of his home?
Thinking about Shaun’s possible fortune instead of the maniac who might be after it and trying to kill them in the process smoothed the ruffled edges of Sierra’s mind. But nothing would do her better than to get off this property alive and never come back. As much as she’d love to feed her curiosity by digging deeper into this mystery, danger wasn’t a dish she cared to nor needed to partake in. Not with the twins on the way and no one but her to take care of them.
In the morning, she’d do the inspection and walk away. Like Shaun agreed earlier, he was a big boy and could take care of himself.
“You ready?” Shaun’s voice reminded Sierra they weren’t out of danger yet.
“For what?”
He stood, tripping the motion sensor light. “To go back to the house and see what the sheriff found out?”
“Uh, not really. Can’t we wait for them to call me or come find us?”
“We could. But if the signal is still jammed, they won’t be able to get through.”
Sierra stood. “After you.” She counted the steps to the house and deducted the minutes she had left here on the Bartley property.
Shaun clicked on the flashlight. “Better to let the deputies know someone is approaching than to surprise them.”
His explanation didn’t warrant a response.
“Maybe when they get this guy to the station he’ll spill the details and this can be finished.”
“Maybe.” She just wanted to walk in silence and not attract attention.
“Hey.” He halted and faced her. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”
“Not your fault.” She started back to the house counting the steps and the minutes again.
Two sheriff’s department vehicles sat in the roundabout, lights flashing. Two deputies stood in front of them, hands on holsters, conversing. As Shaun and Sierra stepped out of the woods, the two wild west cowboys drew their guns and slung commands into the night.
“I’m Deputy Fire Marshal Sierra Beaumonte. I’m also a lieutenant in the MSVFD. I called this in. You can holster your weapons.”
“I’m Shaun Bartley, the homeowner.”
“Show us your ID.” Weapons still pointed at them.
Sierra held up her hands. “I’m going to reach into my purse for my wallet, okay?”
“Slowly!”
“Of course.” She pulled her wallet out and slid her ID out of its compartment.
Deputy number one, a robust fellow who didn’t look like he could chase a suspect if he had to, took her ID and examined it. When he returned it to her, he turned his attention to Shaun.
Deputy number two pointed his gun directly at Shaun, his pinched face with an eagle-eyed gaze glaring at him. “Your ID?”
Shaun sighed. “Really? Who else would I be?”
“Shaun. Show them your ID.”
“Fine.” He reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet and ID.
After the deputy examined and returned it, both deputies holstered their weapons. Deputy number one stepped closer, his height casting a shadow on Sierra. “I’m Deputy Jacobs. So tell us what happened here tonight.”
Both Shaun and Sierra told the story, nature’s light show setting the stage, each filling in the gaps the other missed. Then they waited for the puzzled deputies to respond.
“Something wrong?” Sierra stepped closer.
Deputy number two scratched his head and pointed his sharp gaze at the house. “We couldn’t find any evidence of an intruder.”
Shaun bolted away from them and bounded up the steps. “What about the rats on the doormat? Did you go up to the master? I restrained the guy who attacked me. He wore black jeans, boots, a white T-shirt and a red baseball cap. His hair is dark and he has a tattoo of a woman on his right forearm. And he smelled like cigarettes.” Shaun scratched his head. “Oh, and his breath smelled like garlic, too, like maybe he’d just eaten pizza or something Italian.”
Sierra joined him on the porch with the deputies right behind her. Shaun might not realize it, but he’d managed to recollect more details about the traumatic event than many victims would have.
“Rats?” The wiry second deputy called out.
“Yes, here!” Shaun pointed to the doormat.
When his jaw dropped and he stumbled backwards then fell against the railing, Sierra looked at the doormat.
No rats! Not a drop of blood. Even the door was clean.
Shaun grabbed the doorknob and shoved the door open. Whoever had done this had even wiped up the blood inside the doorway.
“Deputies, I can vouch for what Mr. Bartley is saying. There was a pile of dead, mutilated rats on the doormat when we fled. Blood ran down the door and dripped onto the hardwoods. Our cell phones were jammed. And Shaun––Mr. Bartley––had to fight off the guy upstairs. Look at his face. That’s proof!”
Deputy Jacobs shoved his hands onto his hips. “We don’t doubt you were in some kind of fight. We’re just saying there isn’t any proof of a struggle in the house. No dead rats. No restrained intruder.”
“Then you need to get a forensics team out here and have them use luminol to detect the blood. That will prove it.” Sierra commanded.
Shaun nodded. “Yeah, yeah, luminol. Good point, Sierra.”
Deputy two crossed his arms across his chest and sniffed. “We’ll leave that to the investigators. I don’t know what happened to your phones, but our phones and radios are transmitting. So if there was a jammer, it’s been turned off.”
Sierra pulled her phone out of her purse and swiped it open. She had four bars and her 5G network was working. Whoever this enemy of Shaun’s was, he was smart. He covered his tracks.
Shaun yanked the door open and flew inside and up the stairs.
Sierra remained on the porch with the deputies. Shaun didn’t need her help in confirming what they had reported.
Turning her attention toward the drive and only half listening as the deputies discuss what could’ve happened, her gaze fell straight to their tires. She clapped her hands then pointed at the vehicles as she marched down the steps.
At the truck, she examined the right front tire then walked around the vehicle inspecting the others. She did the same with her own car. By the time she returned to the front of her car, the deputies had joined her.
“Do you see what I see?” She pointed at both vehicles. “Slashed tires. Flat as pancakes. Proof that someone was here tonight and tried to stop us from getting help.”
Deputy Jacobs slipped his notebook out of his shirt pocket and jotted down notes. “Go check it out, Robinson.”
Deputy Robinson stomped around both vehicles, shining his flashlight on all the tires. When he returned to them, he rested his hands on his holster. “She’s right.”
Of course she’s right. Sierra sighed.
Deputy Jacobs smiled and apologized with his round eyes. “Okay, we’re going to file a report on this incident. Can we give you both a ride into town?”
Shaun bolted out the front door looking as determined as the battalion chief on scene at one of the recent church fires. “Did you see that all the drawers in my chest of drawers were half opened and rifled through? Did you see that my mattress was overturned?”
He joined them, panting and nostrils flaring. “Did you notice that the doormat on my porch was brand new and the price tag was still attached? Whoever broke into my house and put those rats on my porch did so after having already been on my property. Or else how would they have known what kind of doormat I had out there? That means they knew what they were doing ahead of time.”
Deputy Jacobs scratched his ample chin. “So what you’re saying is someone wanted to prank you with bloody dead rats on your porch but cleaned it all up and hid the evidence before we could see it? They would’ve already been on your porch to see what kind of doormat you owned so they could go somewhere and buy a duplicate and switch it out?”
It sounded ridiculous. If Sierra hadn’t been here to witness the rats, she’d probably recommend a psych eval for the poor homeowner. But she had been here. She had witnessed it herself.
“I know it sounds crazy. But this is what happened.”
“So you’ve got an unusual thief on your hands because most home invasions involve the crooks just looking to score some cash for drugs or gasoline or other things they can use in making or selling drugs. Most don’t dabble in interior design—or curb appeal in this case.” Deputy Robinson chuckled.
Deputy Jacobs shot Deputy Robinson a stern look with crossed brows then returned his gaze to Shaun’s face. “Look, I don’t doubt someone was here. Okay? If for no other reason than Deputy Fire Marshal Beaumonte stands here corroborating your story. But something doesn’t fit here. Why would someone try to scare you away yet prevent your escape and not steal anything and risk getting caught while cleaning up the mess? Have the forethought to buy a replacement doormat yet not remove the tag?”
Shaun rubbed the back of his neck and rested his hand there. “I don’t know. I don’t have anything of value here. The place is just now habitable. I’m just as confused as you are.”
Deputy Robinson shook his head. “I didn’t see any evidence of an unauthorized entry. When we arrived, the door was unlocked.”
