truck. She put a hand on Tasha’s shoulder, her pale gray eyes peering up at her. “Found her by the side of the road with this around her hands.” The girl held up the nylon restraints. “Thank God I had my dad’s tools in there.”
Marylu gasped. “Oh, you poor thing! What happened? Are you hurt?”
A squad car pulled up before Tasha could find the words to relay the details of the entire terrifying event. Truthfully, she didn’t know when she would ever be able to assemble all the pieces of last night’s puzzle.
Officer Wesley approached. “Ma’am. I’d like to take a statement, and then we should probably get you to a hospital.”
Tasha shook her head of curls vigorously. “I’ll answer your questions, but no hospital. Please. I need a shower and sleep.” She glanced over at Marc’s property, her heart pained at his absence.
Marylu put her hand on Tasha’s arm. “I sent him a text,” she whispered. “It doesn’t look like his phone is on.”
Lorena cut in, guiding Tasha with her good arm around her shoulder. “Honey, let’s get you sitting down and some nourishment in you and then we’ll talk about finding you some medical attention.” She glanced at the officer. “Wes, please.”
He flapped his book shut. “Let’s make it fast, Lorena.”
The entourage made their way along the side of Tasha’s house to the entry door, which stood open. Tasha halted, sucking in a breath, fresh memories assaulting her.
“Investigator’s already been through here,” the officer said. “You’re free to go inside.”
When she wavered, Marylu asked, “What is it? Do you remember something?”
“He ... I answered the door.”
Officer Wesley reopened his writing pad.
Lorena rubbed her shoulder again. “Who was there, sweetheart?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, searching her mind for more than just bits of the past night. She remembered the kiss ... and the bottle of wine. And the note. She had relaxed on the couch with a glass, content, maybe a little tipsy. A knock on the door, and she got up to answer it ...
Tasha turned to the three of them. She swallowed a painful lump in her throat. “I’m not sure. No matter how hard I try, the details are shadowy at best. Maybe it was the thief ...”
One of the officer’s brows shot up like a torpedo. “Thief?”
The folds in Lorena’s forehead deepened and she exchanged a glance with Marylu. “Come inside,” Lorena said. “I’ll whip us all up something quick, and then we’ll talk this through.”
The officer bore a hard look at Lorena, but said nothing. Instead, he walked through the cabin and onto the back deck, scribbling onto his pad. He made a phone call, his voice muffled by the picture window between them. When Lorena had served them all some tea and re-entered the small kitchen, Officer Wesley wandered back inside. He sat down on a loveseat in the living room across from Tasha and removed his hat. “Tell me about this thief,” he said.
Tasha slid a glance at Lorena, who nodded cautiously from her place at the kitchen counter. “Well,” Tasha began, “right about the time that Marc began working on the lot next door, things started to disappear. Do you know Marc Shepherd?”
The officer sniffed. “’Course. I know everybody around here. Especially him—always trying to take things into his own hands. Some of those kids he spends time with, well, let’s just say I’ve had my suspicions.” He sighed. “What kind of things disappeared?”
She blew out a breath, remembering back to when she’d met Marc. His young pal Andy was suspicious of her from the start. “First it was some survey flags, and after that, a tool box disappeared.”
“Did you file a police report?”
“Me? No, of course not. None of those things were mine.”
He nodded, but shot her a look. “This is the first I’m hearing of it, and chances are, if a report had been filed, I’d know.”
She swallowed.
“Anything else missing?”
“N-no.
Marylu gasped. “Oh, you poor thing! What happened? Are you hurt?”
A squad car pulled up before Tasha could find the words to relay the details of the entire terrifying event. Truthfully, she didn’t know when she would ever be able to assemble all the pieces of last night’s puzzle.
Officer Wesley approached. “Ma’am. I’d like to take a statement, and then we should probably get you to a hospital.”
Tasha shook her head of curls vigorously. “I’ll answer your questions, but no hospital. Please. I need a shower and sleep.” She glanced over at Marc’s property, her heart pained at his absence.
Marylu put her hand on Tasha’s arm. “I sent him a text,” she whispered. “It doesn’t look like his phone is on.”
Lorena cut in, guiding Tasha with her good arm around her shoulder. “Honey, let’s get you sitting down and some nourishment in you and then we’ll talk about finding you some medical attention.” She glanced at the officer. “Wes, please.”
He flapped his book shut. “Let’s make it fast, Lorena.”
The entourage made their way along the side of Tasha’s house to the entry door, which stood open. Tasha halted, sucking in a breath, fresh memories assaulting her.
“Investigator’s already been through here,” the officer said. “You’re free to go inside.”
When she wavered, Marylu asked, “What is it? Do you remember something?”
“He ... I answered the door.”
Officer Wesley reopened his writing pad.
Lorena rubbed her shoulder again. “Who was there, sweetheart?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, searching her mind for more than just bits of the past night. She remembered the kiss ... and the bottle of wine. And the note. She had relaxed on the couch with a glass, content, maybe a little tipsy. A knock on the door, and she got up to answer it ...
Tasha turned to the three of them. She swallowed a painful lump in her throat. “I’m not sure. No matter how hard I try, the details are shadowy at best. Maybe it was the thief ...”
One of the officer’s brows shot up like a torpedo. “Thief?”
The folds in Lorena’s forehead deepened and she exchanged a glance with Marylu. “Come inside,” Lorena said. “I’ll whip us all up something quick, and then we’ll talk this through.”
The officer bore a hard look at Lorena, but said nothing. Instead, he walked through the cabin and onto the back deck, scribbling onto his pad. He made a phone call, his voice muffled by the picture window between them. When Lorena had served them all some tea and re-entered the small kitchen, Officer Wesley wandered back inside. He sat down on a loveseat in the living room across from Tasha and removed his hat. “Tell me about this thief,” he said.
Tasha slid a glance at Lorena, who nodded cautiously from her place at the kitchen counter. “Well,” Tasha began, “right about the time that Marc began working on the lot next door, things started to disappear. Do you know Marc Shepherd?”
The officer sniffed. “’Course. I know everybody around here. Especially him—always trying to take things into his own hands. Some of those kids he spends time with, well, let’s just say I’ve had my suspicions.” He sighed. “What kind of things disappeared?”
She blew out a breath, remembering back to when she’d met Marc. His young pal Andy was suspicious of her from the start. “First it was some survey flags, and after that, a tool box disappeared.”
“Did you file a police report?”
“Me? No, of course not. None of those things were mine.”
He nodded, but shot her a look. “This is the first I’m hearing of it, and chances are, if a report had been filed, I’d know.”
She swallowed.
“Anything else missing?”
“N-no.
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