The Devil Wore Sneakers (7 page)

She whirled around and slowed at the sight of the entryway. Fragments of Sullivan’s words played in her mind.
In the front hall. Answered the door. Shot.

Her stomach clenched tight. Liam came up behind her as they inched forward. She halted. Sections of the wooden plank floor were stained rust-colored.
Ryan’s blood
.
Lightness whirled in her head. Her legs threatened to fold under her.

Brown splatters streaked the white walls.

She stumbled back against Liam. He wrapped his arm around her waist to support her and pointed. Her gaze ran over the trail of spatter near the door.

There, pennies were stuck above the knob. It took a few seconds to realize the coins had been grouped to form letters that spelled: CHEAT.

Chapter 8

Liam called the police, and they arrived within minutes. Sullivan interviewed Lucy and then dismissed her. Where had the coins on the door come from? The chief seemed as puzzled as she did over the appearance of the pennies.

Now she sat at the kitchen table with the checkered tablecloth. She sipped a drink to keep busy while the cops dusted, snapped pictures, and searched her brother’s house. Liam had excused himself to get the scoop on what was happening. She should find him.

She stood up, despite the protest from the female officer who insisted the glass of water would drive away her nausea. If only H2O contained such magical power.

“Bathroom break.” Lucy gestured to the hallway and kept moving.
S
he wanted to leave, go far away from Ryan’s dried-up blood, his missing dog, and the message over his death scene. Yes, she was getting out of here. The police had been searching for an hour. Why weren’t they done? How long did it take to look around a four-room house?

Liam’s raised voice floated into the hall. In the entryway, a man snapped pictures of the money. He ignored her while she leaned closer, listening to the voices behind the closed den door.

“I don’t like what you’re implying.” Liam’s acid tone sent a chill through her.

She turned the knob and entered. Liam was standing in the middle of the room, his hands fisted by his sides. Sullivan sat on the couch with a tablet resting on his knees. Liam’s taut jawline and the chief’s tight mouth alerted her— she had interrupted more than a casual conversation.

Liam recovered first from her unexpected entrance.

“Luce, are you okay?” He crossed the floor, took her shoulders in his hands, and scanned her face.

“I’m fine.” She stepped away from him and addressed the chief. “I’m ready to go, unless you found something important.”

“You’re free to leave,” Sullivan answered, “but we’re still processing the house. Looks like the trespasser gained entry by breaking a cellar window and walking up the stairs.”

“You think we’ll find fingerprints on the coins?” she asked.

“The state lab will examine them.”

“Any movement on the funeral picture?” Liam asked.

“Deleted. My techies and the school are tracking down the poster.”

Okay, she’d heard enough. “Liam, are you ready to drive me to the Barley House?”

The chief rose, his body filling the space of two men. “One of my officers can take you.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to disturb them.” She looked up at Liam. “Set?”

He slipped his arm over her shoulders, and Sullivan’s gaze narrowed. The chief trailed after them as they left. Lucy felt his stare of disapproval as they climbed into the pickup.

* * *

Lucy sat next to Liam in silence. Her head rested against the passenger seat. Her eyes were closed. Was she asleep or just avoiding conversation?

Once they were two miles from the house, he let up on the pedal and coasted to the shoulder.

Lucy’s eyelids fluttered open, and she straightened. “What happened? Was something in the road? Did we run out of gas?”

“No problems with the truck or roadkill. I keep going over what happened at the house in my head.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “I shouldn’t have taken you there. I should have known better.”

“Sullivan suggested I hire a special bio company to clean up the hall.” Her shoulders sagged, and she stared down at her hands. “I wanted to prove I was capable of handling it. You couldn’t have stopped me. Why were you yelling at the chief?”

“Sullivan should have declared the house off-limits. He should have patrolled the area.”

“The police can’t watch the house every second, and don’t blame him. I underestimated the…blood.” Her face paled, but the shock had disappeared from her eyes.

Her calm voice encouraged him to probe further. “We need to talk about what’s happening.”

She stiffened. “I’d rather go to the B&B, if you don’t mind. Today feels like it’s lasted a century.”

“I’m worried that whoever shot Ryan is nearby, maybe ready to shoot again.”

“That’s reassuring.” She glanced at the stretch of woods surrounding them. “I’m not sure the side of the road is the best place for this conversation.”

“Luce, I’m glad you didn’t go to Ryan’s by yourself.”

“If you’re looking for a thank-you — thanks. Can we go now?” She reached over and checked her door lock.

“Promise you won’t go there alone. Promise you’ll let me take you.”

She raised her palm. “I do solemnly swear not to go to the house in the woods alone.” She clasped her hands together. “Since we’re bringing up blood and things I dislike, I’d like to mention that arguing with the chief of police won’t get you off his person-of-interest list.”

“I agree. After today, my guess is Clarissa shot your brother. Who else would call him a cheat?”

“I’m afraid too many women for me to count.” She dipped her gaze for a second.

“You have a point.”

“I’m not sure Clarissa would glue coins on a door,” Lucy said. “Why would she do something that pointed to her?”

“She believes she’s too smart to be caught?”

“Okay, let’s go. You’re not reassuring me by accusing Clarissa. She’s already mad that I didn’t consult her about the funeral. I don’t like thinking she shoots people she dislikes.” Lucy rubbed her hands over the sleeves of her running shirt as though trying to warm herself. “Can you at least start the engine? I’m getting chills. You were right to insist I take the ride, and I still hate when the temperature dips below fifty.”

“You’re different, Luce, but a better different.” She was prettier than he remembered. The urge to kiss her struck him. The craving was a reaction, a reflex, or whatever he wanted to call it. He had it under control. “You’ve had a tough day, but you handled the stress. Guess we’ve both grown up.”

“Speaking of which, I’ve another life outside of Barley and will go back to it soon.”

“Luce, I’m not looking for anything, except to help you out and find Ryan’s killer.” He tried to ignore the twinge of his conscience. So he was still attracted to her. No problem.

“I appreciate your support, but please, can we return to civilization?”

“I guess we’re both smarter now than when we went out. That’s all I’ll say for today.” He steered onto the road, aware she was staring at him.

His mind shifted to the night of her high school graduation, when he’d first noticed her. Funny, for years they’d lived in the same town and he’d paid little attention to Ryan’s sister except to watch out for her like a big brother. But instead, everything changed when Ryan invited him over to celebrate. During the party, Liam realized how Lucy had grown into a good-looking woman with lots of curves.

Fast-forward to Lucy’s twenty-first birthday and their four-year anniversary. She had been working and taking courses from the local college. He’d graduated with a degree in business and had landed a decent job at the bank where his father worked.

Lucy expected a promise of a future together for her gift. She’d given him enough hints. Instead, he lost his nerve and ruined the evening when he told her they should go their separate ways. They were too young for marriage. The world was big and full of adventures. He was too cool to be tied down to one woman.

Yeah, he’d acted like an idiot and had panicked. After breaking up with her, he’d gone to a bar and gotten dead drunk. In their small town, the news of his “blowout” spread to Lucy and anyone who’d listen. A few days later, she’d left town.

He’d forever regretted his mistakes on that night.

* * *

Lucy couldn’t breathe. Water dripped from the ceiling of the Barley House into her mouth and nose. Where was it coming from? She snapped on the bedside lamp. The plaster looked dry. She ran a hand over her cheek and stared at the red on her fingers. Blood! Her breath whooshed out of her.

“I can’t stop it,” her brother said, standing over her.

“Ryan?”
How did he get in my room?
She sat up. “You’re alive?”

“I came back to try it again. Let’s see if we can do it right this time.” Red streaks marked his face. A dark spot on his chest grew bigger and bigger. He pressed his hands over his heart. “I can’t stop it. I’m bleeding. Lucy, I’m bleeding to death.” He collapsed on the floor.

“You can’t leave me,” she shouted, throwing the cover aside.
No, no, not a second time. I need you. I love you. You’re my family.

Lucy gasped and shot upward. As she panted in fear, she felt something wet trickle off her chin. She snapped on the lamp and wiped her chin with the edge of the sheet. Sweat. No blood. No Ryan. It was a nightmare.

A chill shivered over her. She collapsed against her pillow. Her first attempt at sleeping without the light since Ryan’s death was a major failure. She swiped up her phone. An urge to call Liam swept over her.
Forget it.

Instead, she texted:
Teagan, I miss you. Have a good night.

Teagan would be asleep, but she’d answer ASAP.

If only Lucy weren’t alone.
Don’t think about Ryan
. Her breathing eased, and she yanked the blankets higher.

Lucy’s thoughts drifted to Liam. His earlier confession had left her confused. Today when she’d returned to the Barley House, she’d spent hours obsessing over what might have been if she’d stayed in town. By night, she’d recovered her senses.

She didn’t want to be with someone who had once tossed her aside. What was wrong with her? What would stop him from doing it again? Why worry, anyway? They weren’t getting back together.

She’d do the right thing for Ryan and then go home. She didn’t need another failure on her relationship list.

Her phone buzzed with a text. Teagan! She retrieved her message.

Watch who you accuse of killing your brother, bitch, or you’ll be sorry.

Fear stole her breath as the cell fell from her hands.

Breathe. It’s a bunch of words. It can’t hurt me
.
Okay, think who sent it.

She pulled up the call log. The number was blocked. She jumped up and checked the B&B’s deadbolt. Turning away, she caught sight of a square piece of paper shoved under the door.

The bill? She snatched it up and found a picture. A priest held up a crucifix over an ill person lying in a bed. Printed on the card were the words, “I am who I am not.”

Only one person would have left a holy card, and he had no connection to her brother.

That man had been her priest and was now a suspected serial killer. He’d once tried to murder her.

“I am who I am not.”

When the police had investigated Matt Hastings as a suspect in a local girl’s abduction, they’d learned he’d died in a car accident years ago. Her Matt Hastings had stolen a dead man’s identity. His true name was still unknown.

And he’d tracked her to Barley. Every muscle in her body went tight.

Whose life had he stolen now?

Chapter 9

March 19

Next morning, Lucy went still at an unexpected knock on the door. “Who is it?”

“Liam. I come bearing gifts you can’t resist.”

Liam
. Relief and eagerness radiated through her. She jumped up and peered through the peephole. He was holding a takeout box and gesturing to it with his free hand.

She slid the bolt and opened up. He stood in front of her in his jeans, work boots, and goose-down vest. One corner of his mouth tilted upward in his grin.

She wanted to throw herself against his chest and confess her fears. Instead, she crossed her arms and asked pointedly, “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“I am. I’m making a breakfast delivery.” He brushed past her and stopped. “Where’s the table? This place is barbaric.”

“I guess I looked like I was on a diet at check-in. Just put the food on the desk.” She sank onto the bed and blurted, “Sullivan and his men were here last night.”

“What happened?” He spun toward her. “Are you okay?”

“Someone sent me a threatening text that told me I’d be sorry if I didn’t watch who I accused of killing my brother.”

“Whoa. Who is mad at you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it was from Clarissa, or Ryan’s fiancé? Knowing the killer might have stolen my brother’s gun collection and is now sending me warnings adds another layer of danger. Then there’s the chance an unknown pervert who gets kicks out of promising to hurt people got my number and shot me the message.”