Hidden Danger Page 3

  “I came back for some follow-up questions about last night’s incident.” He stood next to her and helped her organize the painting supplies. His close proximity was all she could focus on.

  “I already know about the mailbox and the paint incidents that led up to last night. Can you think of anything that had happened prior to those? Even anything months ago? Maybe your dad had mentioned weird things going on around the property?”

  “I can’t think of anything out of the ordinary. He talked about the usual problems, you know, wild animals getting into the trash, the neighbor’s dog finding his way to the house. Dad would have to call Mrs. Brown to come get him.” She retreated to the kitchen table to retrieve her notebook and pen, diligently making her list to avoid looking at Cody. She would need to get a couple more rollers and some masking tape.

  His cologne wafted toward her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He still wore the same brand. In that instant, she remembered every embrace, resting her head on his chest, breathing in that wonderful scent that was always concentrated there. He’d once confessed to intentionally spraying it there after she’d told him how much she loved it.

  She needed more space between them to clear her head. She walked into the living room, leaving Cody in the kitchen. The white box on the coffee table caught her eye. She’d forgotten about it.

  “What about before you came back to Whitehaven? Did anything suspicious happen to you? Have you been threatened before?” Cody called from the kitchen.

  She wasn't going to be able to avoid him as long as he had questions about last night. Reluctantly, she took the box back to the kitchen and laid it on the island. The quicker she answered his questions the sooner he'd leave. He’d made himself comfortable at the kitchen table while she’d been in the living room.

  “No, nothing. I live a quiet life. I’m an elementary school librarian.”

  “A librarian? I thought you moved off to college in pursuit of a writing career?”

  “Well, things change. When I’m not working at the school, I tutor at the Boys and Girls Club and outreach center during the week. When I have free time, I write.”

  Maggie gave the box a frown. She wasn’t expecting any deliveries here in Whitehaven. It was about time for her monthly book order to come in. Perhaps her neighbor had been nice enough to somehow forward them. This wasn’t the typical box they came in, though, and she hadn’t thought the mail delivered out here. Her father had had a post office box for as long as she could remember. The mailbox had been more of a way to mark their drive than to actually collect the mail.

  She retrieved some scissors from the utensil drawer and cut the tape holding the lid in place. She laid the scissors to the side and removed the lid. Inside the box, cradled in white tissue paper lay a black jewelry box. She opened the box, and the hair on the back of her neck prickled as nausea roiled in her stomach.

  No. It can’t be.

  Chapter Four

  Maggie’s face had lost all color. Cody got a glimpse of a small, black box before she dropped it and ran from the room.

  “Maggie? What is it?”

  He crossed to the island and picked up the box. Nestled inside were two ornate wedding rings.

  He furrowed his brows. When he had talked to Maggie last night about her life she hadn’t mentioned a husband, past or present. Was Maggie married? Did she have a boyfriend who had asked her to marry him?

  A loud thump came from the second floor followed by a muffled cry. Dropping the box, Cody ran toward the stairs. As he climbed the steps, he cautiously unholstered his service weapon.

  “Maggie?” He listened for any sound. Hearing a quiet sniffle come from the right, he tiptoed in the direction of the room, keeping a vigilant eye of his surroundings. He’d been in the Jones' house enough times to know that the crying was coming from Maggie's parents' room. He stopped at the door and slowly peeked around the doorframe.

  The room was pristine except the contents of several jewelry boxes dumped on the floral bedspread. Maggie sat on the floor in front of the bed, her head in her hands.

  He holstered his weapon and knelt in front of her. “Maggie? What's going on?”

  She lifted her head and looked at him. Tears ran down her cheeks. She grabbed a small, wooden jewelry box and showed it to him. “After my mom died, dad bought this box and kept her ring in it. He would come to the room and just look at the ring. When he died, we took his wedding ring and put it in the box with mom's.”

  He reached out and wiped away a tear rolling down her cheek.

  “I’m missing something. Are the rings in that box downstairs from a boyfriend? Is there something you want to talk about?” His heart constricted at the thought of Maggie marrying someone else. But, even as he asked his questions, he logically dismissed them. A set of wedding rings from a boyfriend shouldn’t upset her the way these had. Not unless they maybe came from an aggressive ex or something. But how would that connect to her parents? It didn’t make sense.

  His mind lingered on the rings. He'd once hoped that he would be the one to give her a wedding ring. He shook the thought off. He’d ended his chances for a happily ever after with her years ago.

  “No, Cody. Look.” She handed him an empty little wooden box. “The rings in the box downstairs are my parents' rings. I knew it as soon as I saw them. This note was in their box up here.”

  She handed Cody a folded piece of paper. Two for joy. That sense of déjà vu from last night returned. It was almost like the first case he had handled as sheriff. Another woman taunted with notes.

  Iris's case still haunted him. It probably would for the rest of his life. He’d need to talk to Grainger and give him the option to recuse himself. If this was the same guy now as it was before, then Grainger was too close to this. Maggie took a shuddering breath, reclaiming his attention.

  “Are you gonna be okay?” Her eyes met his, and he could tell she wanted to say no. She blinked away the moisture that threatened to escape and stood up.

  Reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder, he said, “Maggie, however the rings got into that box downstairs, I will figure it out.”

  Her shoulder tensed under his hand, almost like she was repulsed by his touch. He pulled his hand back. He knew he had hurt her, but he hadn’t thought it would leave such a resounding effect six years later. He wanted to gather her in his arms and explain himself. To tell her how much he’d loved her then and how much he still did. Now was not the time. He needed to focus on finding out who was targeting Maggie and why. He couldn’t let his feelings interfere with his job.

  He followed her downstairs and into the kitchen. She pulled a pair of latex gloves from underneath the sink and handed them to Cody. “I’m sure you’ll want these. Amelia said the box was on the porch when she showed up this morning about eight forty-five.”

  He took the gloves and put them on. He picked up the lid and looked for a postmark or anything indicating that the package was delivered by a packaging service. There wasn’t one. Someone had put the package on Maggie’s porch. And there was a good chance that whoever had left the package may still be watching the house.

  When the scene had finally been cleared at two this morning, he’d stationed Deputy McKinley at the house until his shift was over at seven. That left an hour and forty-five minutes for the perp to have deposited the box without witnesses. Cody’s stomach churned at the thought of what could have happened to Maggie.

  Even more important than when the person left the box was how had he gotten the rings in the first place? Had he been in the house before Maggie returned to Whitehaven, or had he been able to sneak in sometime during the night?

  He took a side-glance at Maggie. Her eyes were closed as she leaned against the cabinet and the fingers of her right hand clung to the cross hanging from her neck. He considered walking over to comfort her, but the thought of her recoiling from his hand stopped him.

  Standing in her drive that evening, lying to her, telling her she
didn’t mean anything to him had almost ripped his heart from his chest. He’d always imagined that, though the pain he had inflicted upon on himself had lingered, she would have moved past the hurt to a happier and healthier life. Based on her behavior now though, he realized he was probably wrong. How many times had she clung to that cross in the days after he’d let her go?

  He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

  Revisiting their past wouldn’t help the current situation. He needed to focus on how the perp had gotten into the house. The night before, he had personally walked the outside perimeter of the house and hadn’t seen any broken windows or doors. Deputy McKinley had checked the interior and hadn’t reported anything amiss.

  “Maggie, how do you think someone got into the house? Were any of the doors or windows broken when you arrived?”

  She didn’t move, just continued sitting there, clinging to the cross. He was about to ask again when she opened her eyes. “No, nothing was open or broken. Jacob said he made sure the house was locked up tight after the funeral.”

  If all the doors had been locked and there weren't any broken windows, the perp was either an expert lock picker or had a key. He couldn't imagine Mr. Jones or Jake giving a key to anyone.

  “Does anyone else have a key to the house? Could your dad have given one to someone and not tell you?”

  Maggie stood there thinking, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders.

  “I suppose he could have, but surely he would have told me.” Her eyes widened in surprise, like she thought of something. “Remember when we were kids? We always had a spare key hidden in a toolbox in the garage. Mom was always afraid she would lock herself out.”

  How could he forget about that key? The Joneses had gone out of town on a vacation one summer and had asked Cody to house sit. After locking himself out, he’d had to call them. Mrs. Jones had laughed and told him about the key. She’d said she'd had to use it a couple times.

  “I’m going to go check and see if it’s still there. In case it is, can you find me a sandwich bag to put the key in? It’s a long shot, but if the perp used it maybe he left his prints.”

  Sandwich bag in hand, he walked to the garage. The tools and boxes in the garage were covered with a thick layer of dust. All but one toolbox. The one that held the spare key had four perfectly clean stripes on the lid. A perfect fit for fingers. Pulling his multipurpose tool from his pocket, he used the corkscrew to pick up the key through the key hole. He placed it in the bag and sealed it before returning to Maggie in the kitchen.

  He waved the bag as he walked in. “That's it. That’s how our guy got in. Everything in the garage was covered in dust, but someone had been in the toolbox recently.” Placing the key on the counter next to the box, Cody faced Maggie. “I need to take the toolbox, key, and rings in for processing. I’d really like for you to find somewhere else to stay until we can find the guy who is doing this.”

  “Cody, I have nothing. My mother is gone, my father is gone, and Jacob is God knows where. All I have left of the people I love is this house. The house is going on the market soon and these are probably the last few weeks I will ever have here.” Her voice cracked on the last sentence. “I will not let anyone take that from me. Gary called this morning and said my exterior paint is in. I’ll go into town and talk to him about a home security system and new locks, too.”

  She pulled a trash bag from the supply closet, handed it to him, and nodded toward the evidence sitting on the counter. She picked up her list of supplies, grabbed her purse from the counter, and walked out of the kitchen. Still wearing the latex gloves, Cody placed the box and the key in the trash bag. He'd have to let forensics know that Maggie and Amelia had handled the box. He followed Maggie out.

  All I have left of the people I love is this house. He wanted to tell her he was still here. She had loved him once, even though he hadn’t thought he was worthy of her love. On that warm summer night, he had known she deserved a man a hundred times better than he was, and he had let her go.

  Chapter Five

  The trip into town didn't seem to take as long as normal. Of course, she had spent the entire ride thinking about the package that had been on the doorstep that morning. She didn’t know who had sent it or why. No, they didn’t just send it; they delivered it in person. Someone had been at the house, on the porch, while she was sleeping. Fear and anger fought for dominance within her.

  Not only had they been at the house to deliver the package but, at some point, they had been in the house. They had gone through her parents’ things and had taken two of the most precious items she had left of them.

  She pulled into the hardware store's parking lot. Gary was at the customer service desk when she walked in. “Hey, Gary. How are you this morning?”

  “I'm doing well, Ms. Maggie. Did you get that list of those supplies you need?”

  “I do have my list, but I want to ask you about new locks and a home security system. I've had a little trouble at the house, and I think it's time I changed the locks and set up a security system.” Maggie laid her purse on the counter and started digging for her supply list.

  “I'm sorry to hear that. A nice girl like you shouldn't be out there all alone. Why, you should have a man to take care of you. But that's none of my business.

  “Gary. It’s the twenty-first century. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”

  “You’re right. Just ignore me. We do have some basic security items, door and window alarms that would probably do for a house here in town. But if I were you, I'd consider calling the security company in Prairie’s Grove. With your house so far out, you'd want something that can cover the perimeter and call for help if it were to ever go off.” He led her toward the aisle with the alarms.

  She listened to him describe each product and chose an alarm for the front and back doors of the house and alarms for all the downstairs windows. She also grabbed some motion sensor lights for the front and back porches as well. She followed Gary around the store as he helped her gather the remaining items on her list.

  “Let me get that business card for you, and then I’ll help you out to your car.” Gary dug around the service desk.

  “Thank you, but I can manage to carry everything out.”

  “Nonsense. I want to help.” He lifted the phone and looked under it before setting it back down. “Besides, they keep this place too cold. I need to warm up a bit, thin skin and all.” She chuckled. It was close to one hundred degrees outside. It was hard to imagine how anyone could be cold.

  He shuffled through various baskets and drawers. “Here it is.” He handed over a small, white business card. She stuffed it in her wallet, making a mental note to call them when she returned to the house.

  He grabbed her bags and waited for her to lead the way to the truck.

  After Gary placed the painting supplies and security stuff in the bed of the truck, she gave him a wave and thanked him for his help.

  The next stop was the grocery store to stock the cabinets. The parking lot was full. It seemed as if everyone else in town had run out of food at the same time. Parking at the end of the lot by the side alley, she hoped her previous purchases would be okay in the bed of the truck.

  Once inside the store, she grabbed a shopping cart and headed to the fruits and vegetables. With the events of the past twenty-four hours, she could use some comfort food. She picked up a couple bunches of bananas so she could make her mother's banana pudding for dessert. She also picked up some fresh tomatoes and lettuce.

  Slowly making her way across the grocery store, Maggie picked up enough food for a couple of weeks. She wanted to stay out of town as much as possible. Running into Cody at the sheriff's station yesterday and then having him at her house twice in the last twelve hours had added to the ache in her chest. If she didn't have to come to town she wouldn't take the chance of running into him.

  He had hurt her so deeply. He’d told her he loved her and then had taken it all back be
fore completely cutting her out of his life. What had been wrong with her? She thought she’d been a good girlfriend. She had replayed every conversation they’d had in the days preceding that night and couldn’t think of anything. She hadn’t been clingy. He’d told her many times how beautiful she was, inside and out.

  After he broke things off, he wouldn’t take her calls or return her messages. Wanting an explanation, she had called him twice. After that, she’d refused to play the desperate girlfriend calling him multiple times. She’d never understood his change of heart but had worked hard to stop thinking about it. Those old wounds were not going to be opened now.

  Groceries paid for, she wheeled them to the truck. She hadn't realized how long she'd spent in the grocery store, but it must have been a while because the parking lot was nearly deserted now. As she got closer to the truck, a folded piece of paper under the windshield caught her eye. Probably a flier from one of the local churches inviting her to church or an advertisement. She loaded the groceries into the bed of the truck, taking note that all her bags from the hardware store were still accounted for.

  She grabbed the paper off the windshield, put it in the passenger seat, and climbed into the truck. Sticking the key in the ignition and turning, the truck sputtered and died. This couldn't be happening right now. It couldn’t break down now, not when she had frozen goods that needed to be put in the freezer. She tried the key again, and the truck sputtered dismally but finally turned over. Thankful that potential disaster had been averted, she reached over and picked up the paper that had been tucked under her windshield wiper.