“That moment is now. We’re leaving. It doesn’t look like he’s here. I see some county deputies. Let’s head to them.”
A bloodcurdling scream erupted, and people scattered in every direction. Cressida was glad she’d held on to Braden’s hand because he pulled her out of the way and into the shadows between two tented booths.
Two deputies rushed through the crowd, heading towardthe threat. Braden had called them to come and find Harlan, though there was other security at the bash.
“That’s just what Hidden Bay needs, more drama to scare the tourists away,” she said.
Or draw them in.
Keeping his grip on her arm, he said, “You’ll need to come with me while I check on what’s going on.”
He led her forward and out into the growing crowd that had now turned into gawkers holding their cell phones up to take videos. The deputies were holding them back. Braden stepped through and dragged Cressida along with him. Deputies guarded an alley, hidden by a tent flap propped up to block their view. With Cressida in tow, Braden stepped around the deputies and behind the flap into the dark alley.
Trent stood over a body. Braden approached and Cressida remained close, though she didn’t want to look at the gruesome scene. But she couldn’t miss that Derek Harlan lay on the ground, his throat slashed.
She squeezed her eyes shut and backed against the tent.
The blood boiled in her ears, then rushed to her feet. The world spun at the sight.
“Wait there,” Braden said.
She opened her eyes to connect with his reassuring gaze.
“Just right there,” he said. “You’re safe for the moment.”
Because she was with law enforcement? Or because the man supposedly after her was dead?
“Give me a few moments,” Braden said, “and then I’ll get you out of here.”
“But Diggins...” Nausea erupted. Dizziness persisted. “He could be dead too. Someone is killing everyone.”
“Cressida, focus. I need you to keep your head about you. Trent, stay with her for a few moments, will you?”
Deputy Riker nodded and moved to stand near Cressida. His mouth remained flat, but his eyes reflected his deepconcern. Cressida suspected he didn’t like Braden asking him to babysit, but he also seemed relieved that he wasn’t in charge of the body.
Braden took pictures of the body with his cell phone. On the other side of the flap, the two other deputies kept the crowd at bay. Cressida squeezed her eyes shut.
All I wanted was to finish Dad’s book.A simple thing, really. A lovely work of history. And now she was in the middle of a horror flick featuring dead bodies and a ghost ship.
Suddenly she fell back into darkness. A hand clamped over her mouth. A familiar face appeared before putting a black bag over her head.
38
Braden ground his molars at the gruesome sight. This was their suspect. Deputies had shown up to apprehend him and now he was dead?
“Where’s Thatcher?” he asked, still facing the body. “I want the sheriff here.”
When he got no response from Trent, he glanced over his shoulder. The man remained standing with his back to the tent.
Braden’s heart might have stopped. “Where’s Cressida?”
Trent whirled around, grabbing his gun. “I don’t know! She was here a second ago. Maybe she had to use the ladies’ room.”
He thought she understood the dangerous situation.She wouldn’t have left without letting me know, would she?
“Stay with the body,” he said to Trent, then left the shadowed alley between the tents.
“Cressida!” he called into the thick, gawking crowd. They might even believe this was a show put on for the bash. But they couldn’t be more wrong.
