Twilight at Blueberry Barrens (Sunset Cove #3)(4)

The sheriff in Maine was certain Heath had killed Melissa, then himself. Drake didn’t buy it. Such behavior was so unlike Heath, who was outgoing, upbeat, and the eternal optimist. Nothing Melissa could do would ever drive him to do something like that. He loved his kids way too much to leave them orphaned. And they’d been so happy. Melissa was the type of wife Drake would have picked for himself—faithful, loving, a good mother.

Then what had happened? An old client out for revenge? Someone who’d gone to prison because of Heath? If that were the case, the list of suspects would be long and complex. Heath had practiced law as a defense attorney for ten years, and it would take time to go through every single case.

The moonlight gleamed off the stainless-steel appliances in his huge kitchen. He’d cooked more in here in the past month than he had in the entire two years previously. His life had changed dramatically since the girls had come to live with him. He would do anything he could to make them smile again.

His slippers crunched on something, and he looked down. Glass glimmered back at him, and a warm breeze touched the back of his neck. He whirled toward the window and saw the curtains flutter. Someone from the outside had broken the window, and the glass had fallen on the floor. Was the intruder still inside?

He grabbed a butcher knife from the block on the granite countertop and ran for the stairs to check on the girls. His phone was upstairs too. His breath sounded harsh in his ears as he took the stairs two at a time and stepped into his bedroom.

The girls were still sleeping, so he grabbed his phone and dialed 911. With the police on their way, he left the call connected, then pulled out the flashlight from the bedside table and shone it around the room and into the walk-in closet.

No one appeared to be hiding in the bedroom. He wanted to investigate the rest of the house, but he didn’t dare leave the girls alone, so he locked the door and forced himself to wait by the window. Once he saw the flashing light of the police car pull into the driveway, he unlocked the door and eased back out, then shut it behind him.

He stood at the top of the stairs and shone the light up and down the hall. The thought of going downstairs without the girls felt unsafe, so he retraced his steps. He laid down the knife and scooped up one little girl in each arm. Five-year-old Phoebe never budged, but eight-year-old Emma’s eyes fluttered before she settled back against his chest. Huffing from their weight, he descended the stairs as fast as he dared to the house’s entrance.

As he reached the living room, a fist pounded on the door. “Police!”

He laid the girls on the sofa, then went to answer the door. Two police officers charged inside.

The woman looked around. “You reported an intruder, Mr. Newham?” In her thirties, she was about five-five but muscular.

He nodded. “My kitchen window was busted out. I haven’t probed through the house because I didn’t want to leave the girls alone.”

“Smart decision,” the male officer said. About forty, he was slightly overweight with thick graying hair. “That way?” He pointed past the living room.

“Yes.” Drake glanced at the girls who were still sleeping, then followed the officers as they began to walk through the house.

After they looked in the kitchen, they swept through the dining room, living room, laundry room, then stopped outside his office door. It stood ajar. “I keep this door locked.” He reached to the wall and flipped on the hallway light. The illumination revealed the doorjamb was splintered.

He swallowed, then peered past the officers as they pushed open the door and flipped on the light. Papers, pens, file folders, and upended file drawers lay strewn on the floor. It would take forever to pick through everything and determine what had been taken. What had the intruder been after? His blueprints were spread out on top of the desk.

He bent over and examined the drawings. “These were in a drawer, but at least they’re still here.”

The female officer turned to look at him. “What are they?”

“Drawings of a new drone. I’ve already got several million dollars’ worth of orders for it.” Drake’s start-up of ten years ago had taken off in a big way in the past couple of years thanks to his innovative designs. “Could the intruder have taken pictures of the plans?”

“It’s possible.” She eyed the damaged door. “Is there anywhere you can take the girls and stay for a few days while we investigate this? You definitely shouldn’t stay here unless you get some good security.”

“I have an alarm system, but it didn’t trigger when he broke the window.”

“Probably disarmed.”

Which meant a professional. Drake’s thoughts veered again to his dead brother and sister-in-law. “I think I’ll take the girls on a vacation and get out of here.” Downeast Maine might hold the answers he craved. But just in case, he shot off a text to his attorney to check out any competitors who might be sniffing around.





THREE


The crimson leaves of the blueberry barrens merged into the gorgeous gold and magenta of a Maine sunset. The rich color looked bountiful, but Kate fought the sting of tears as she looked at the fields. The red leaves held few marketable blueberries. She’d counted on the area’s bees to pollinate her fields, but her gamble hadn’t paid off.

Claire shaded her blue eyes with one hand. “Let’s check the other field. It can’t be as bad as this one.”