Legacy of Fear Read online

  “Can I make you something, Em?” Francie said. “Are you hungry?”

  “No, thanks. I have no appetite at all.”

  “What did the police say?” Doug asked.

  Emily filled him in on the little she knew. Her throat closed when she thought of the man who had lost his life. Doug’s hand closed over hers.

  “I wish there was something I could say that’d make you feel better.” Doug’s voice rang with sincerity.

  “Just having you guys around is appreciated more than you know. I don’t like to impose on you like this.”

  “You’re not imposing,” he said. “We’re happy to be here with you. I just wish the circumstances were better.”

  “Emily, it’s time for you to get some sleep,” Francie said.

  “I’ll try, but no matter how tired my body is, I’m not sure my mind will rest.” She pushed herself to her feet. Her battered and bruised muscles ached.

  “I’ll take care of making sure all the windows and doors are locked. You’ll be safe,” Doug said.

  Emily’s heart sank. She had never locked her doors until now. Clear Point had always been a haven of security for her, and she never experienced the slightest fear living here.

  “C’mon, Max. It’s time for bed,” she said. She couldn’t decide which ached more, her body or her spirit.

  The dog’s claws clicked on the hardwood floor as he followed her to her bedroom, the brightness of a full moon shining on the floorboards, lighting the way.

  Chapter 4

  Emily resisted the urge to grimace. The coffee was strong and bitter on her tongue. In front of her sat a plate of fried eggs too undercooked for her taste, tofu sausages dangerously close to being burnt, and slices of avocado not quite ripened. Francie was a dear friend, but cooking was not her strong point. Nevertheless, Emily appreciated the effort and remained determined to see it through.

  “How’s your head?” Doug asked with a concerned look from his seat on the opposite side of the table.

  “I have a bit of a headache, but I’m sure it’ll pass.”

  Her head throbbed like a jackhammer in slow motion, but she didn’t want to worry anyone or create another spate of fussing on Francie’s part. Her friend had already objected to Emily getting out of bed and had insisted she eat a breakfast large enough to feed a lumberjack. She had also forced her to take two painkillers while Emily would have preferred to take one.

  The jarring ring of the telephone set off a larger series of throbs inside Emily’s head.

  She was thankful when Francie grabbed it on the second ring and left the room to talk to the caller. She returned to the kitchen with a look of apprehension.

  “That was from the IHIT detectives. They want to come by and ask some more questions,” she said.

  “What more can I tell them? I remember so little. They know that.” Emily didn’t know if she could handle another question period with Dave Humble.

  “We should call them back and tell them not to come,” Doug said. “It’s going to upset you for nothing.”

  Emily waved her hand dismissively. “No, it’s okay. I’ll get it over with. It shouldn’t take long.”

  Within a half hour, the two officers, along with the ever-present Ted, were at her door. Inspector Humble, as expected, was dressed fastidiously, while his partner looked like he could use another cup of coffee or two.

  Francie, despite her reluctance to have the authorities in Emily’s home, was her usual hospitable self and served hot coffee to everyone. She received a grateful smile from Inspector Wallace in return.

  The two officers sat on the worn, red plaid couch while Emily faced them in an equally-worn and mismatched blue striped armchair. Ted dragged a wooden chair from the kitchen. Inspector Humble’s gaze swept the room, taking in her second-hand furnishings and handcrafted decorations, but his expression remained unchanged.

  Doug and Francie, once the coffee was served, were asked to leave. Through the front window, Emily watched the two of them pace back and forth on the porch. She knew Doug would have his hands full trying to keep Francie from forcing her way back into the house.

  On the coffee table in the center of the living room, the recorder was set, and the second interview began.

  “Tell me why you were on the beach at that hour,” Inspector Humble said.

  “Again?” Emily glanced at Ted, hoping he would intervene and tell her she didn’t have to reply to the same questions she had answered the previous night. He shrugged his apology.

  “Yes,” Humble said.

  She gave in to the inevitable. “I always run at that hour. It suits my schedule.”

  “And you always run alone?”

  “Most of the time. Sometimes Francie comes with me, maybe once a week.” Emily gestured toward the woman who peered at them through the front window.

  “Why wasn’t she with you last night?”

  “She knows my routine, and if she wants to come along, she’ll show up. It’s as simple as that.”

  “And you don’t meet up with anyone while you’re running?”

  “Nothing planned if that’s what you mean. Sometimes, I’ll see people I know along the way. I just say hello and keep running.”

  “Do you often see the same people? Any regulars?”

  His tone was casual, but it didn’t dispel Emily’s suspicions after the implications he had made the previous night. Did he hope to trap her into admitting to a clandestine affair? A preplanned meeting that had gone terribly wrong?

  “No, I wouldn’t say so,” she said. “Sometimes, I won’t see anyone. Other nights, I may see a dozen people. It depends on the weather. It depends on the time of year. It’s never the same.”

  “You always run in the same direction and take the same path?”

  “Yes. I already told you that.” She ran a hand through her hair.

  “Never had any incidents?”

  “Never.”

  He stared at her, his expression intense. Perhaps she was paranoid, but it seemed like Inspector Humble didn’t like her. He may not believe she was the perpetrator of the crime, but he might think the fault, in the end, lay at her door. On the other hand, maybe he had hit upon a nerve already burdened with guilt.

  Finally, he spoke. “There’s not a lot of crime in Clear Point. It’s a pretty quiet place. From what I hear, everyone’s nice and friendly. Who would do something like this?”

  “You’re asking me? I have no idea.”

  “There’s nobody you know who’s threatened you?”

  “No, there’s no one,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Any exes?”

  “I have an ex-husband.”

  “What’s his name?” Inspector Wallace poised his pen over his pad.

  “You can’t think Alan had anything to do with this,” Emily said with a frown.

  “Did you part on good terms?” Humble countered.

  Emily remembered the pain and anger she had felt when Alan told her he was leaving. She remembered exploding at him, telling him what a terrible person he was, wanting to know how he could leave her after all the promises he had made. And he had retaliated, making her feel small and worthless. The divorce was quickly arranged, both of them eager to be rid of the other, but for different reasons. Alan wanted to start a new life. Emily wanted to escape the pain of being considered less than a real woman. They hadn’t spoken since the last papers were signed.

  “I guess not.” She stared at her hands in her lap.

  “What’s his full name?”

  “Alan Tanner.”

  “Burton is your maiden name?”

  “Yes, I took it back,” she said, lifting her head.

  She knew Alan had stopped loving her, but she had a difficult time imagining he would want her dead. It was incomprehensible to her that he would make a special trip to Clear Point, watch her habits, and set up a trap to intercept and kill her. The thought was painful, like a knife stab to the heart.

  “Is there anyone else you can think of who’d want to harm you?” The detective’s voice shook her from her thoughts.

  “No, of course not. It isn’t even possible Alan would want to kill me.” Emily felt the need to express her opinion once again.

  “Nevertheless, we have to check it out. It’s routine to look at and eliminate the spouses and ex-spouses first.”

  The strength drained from Emily’s body. Instead of having the impression the police were there to help her, she felt intimidated.

  “You still don’t remember anything about your attacker?”

  She shook her head. “I would’ve told you if I’d remembered anything. I wish I did. I really do.”

  “And you can’t think of anything unusual that may have happened over the last few days or weeks?”

  “No, nothing.” Her gaze swept the room until her focus fell upon her two friends. They stood on the porch and stared at her broken railing.

  “Oh,” Emily said, her hand at her throat. “I…there may be something…but I doubt it.”

  “What is it? Anything may help.” Ted’s voice was shaded with desperation.

  “The night before last, there was a
noise, a loud bang. At first, I thought it was a raccoon or a bear, maybe.”

  “What time was this at?” Inspector Wallace asked.

  “Around midnight. I was working at the wheel when I heard it.”

  “The wheel? What’re you talking about?” Humble said.

  “My pottery wheel. I often work at night. And it was an unusually loud noise.”

  “Did you go outside to investigate?”

  “No, I looked out, but saw nothing…no, that’s not true. I thought I caught sight of a shape in the trees.” Her voice became louder and more animated as the memory returned. “At first, I thought it was human, but when I saw the damage, I decided it had to be a bear.”

  “Damage?” Ted said. “Are you talking about the railing out there?”

  “Yes.” She turned toward him. “A raccoon couldn’t do that. The animals were fine. They hadn’t been disturbed. I assured myself of that before going to bed, but I didn’t notice the railing until the next morning. Do you think…?”

  “We won’t think anything until we have a chance to look into it further,” the lead detective said. The other man strolled to a corner of the room to talk on his cell phone. He ended the call and returned to the group.

  “They’re on their way.” He addressed Inspector Humble.

  “Who?” Emily said.

  “The crime scene investigators,” Humble responded. “We’ll try to determine if an animal or a human broke your railing. In the meantime, make sure those other two don’t touch anything out there,” he added, sending his partner to the door.

  . . .

  Emily lay down for a few minutes to rest. Her headache had not abated, and she had been slammed by a wave of fatigue. She knew her concussion caused a large part of the pain, but the investigators were also tireless with their questions.

  Inspector Humble insisted she walk them through her activities the night of the noise, and he made her sit at the wheel while it spun dizzily. She described each step of that night, guiding them around the house as she did so. From the porch, she pointed out the area of trees where she had seen the shape that had been either human or bear.

  When Humble said he wanted Emily to help them reconstruct the scene on the beach, Francie put her foot down. “That’s impossible. Can’t you see she’s exhausted? You can’t expect her to go traipsing around the beach, especially not so soon after it happened.”

  Humble had the grace to look sheepish, an expression that didn’t sit well on him.

  “I suppose we don’t have to do it today, but I’m afraid I’ll need you to walk us through it as soon as possible.”

  Emily nodded her assent and shot a grateful glance at her friend. She told them she wanted to rest for a few minutes while the forensics team worked on her porch and in her yard. Without waiting for a response, she went to her bedroom, crawled under the quilt, and curled into a ball on her side.

  Sleep wasn’t possible, not with the back-and-forth shouting between the law enforcement officers, and not with the heavy footsteps on the porch and in her house. But she closed her eyes against the harsh sunlight and the constant strain, and she relished what little time she had alone.

  Emily had lived on her own in this house for close to six years, ever since the breakup with Alan. She never considered herself a loner, but she had come to enjoy and cherish her life as it was, with the freedom to live the existence of her choosing. At this moment, she longed for the peace and quiet she had grown accustomed to, and she wanted nothing more than to see everyone leave her home.

  Those feelings were shared by someone else. Max nudged the bedroom door open and climbed onto the bed beside her, resting his chin on her hip. Emily stroked his head and drew comfort from the old dog.

  Half an hour later, a light knock on the door signaled the end of her respite.

  “Em, I hate to bother you, but it seems they’re done. They’d like to talk to you before they leave,” Francie said.

  Emily rolled over and smiled at her friend. “If it’ll get them out of here faster, I’ll be right out.”

  “I thought you’d say that. I’ll let them know.”

  As she joined the policemen, Emily gazed around the living room, not sure what she expected to find, but the interior of the house seemed to be the same as usual. She presumed the exterior would not be in the same condition.

  “We’ve searched for evidence on the railing and on much of the outside area,” Inspector Humble said. “We didn’t find anything to confirm a human being had been present the night before last. But we can pretty much conclude it wasn’t a bear.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Any animal that applied that much force to the railing would’ve left some fur behind, and there was none. There were no large tracks either. As for human tracks, there are plenty in the driveway, way too many to decipher. And there’s too much foliage among the trees to find anything conclusive. Not to mention the fact it rained hard since that night, which would’ve washed away anything worthwhile.”

  “So, in other words, you’ve eliminated the possibility it was an animal, so it has to have been human,” Emily said.

  “Correct.”

  She shivered. Who had been prowling around her home? Could it have been the killer? What had scared him off?

  Humble glanced at his partner and nodded.

  “We’ll be in touch if there’s anything,” he said.

  Emily’s eyes widened. “That’s it? You’re just going to leave? What can you tell me about the investigation? Did you find any other evidence? Over there, I mean,” she said, waving her hand toward the beach. She hated to even think of the spot where an innocent man had been murdered.

  “I’m not able to share details with you,” Humble said. “But we’re working on the premise it was a random attack.”

  “You said it could be my ex-husband.”

  “I said we had to eliminate him as a suspect. It’s standard procedure to follow. My gut, on the other hand, tells me it was probably a random attack.”

  “But what do I do? I could’ve been killed. Now, you’re saying he may have been right outside my door the night before. I need to know you’re going to catch him.”

  The police detective huffed out a breath.

  “I know you believe Vancouver Island is the epitome of clean living, and you think it’s crime-free. But, like any other place on the planet, this area has a criminal element. So, the possibility you ran into someone’s path must be explored, just as we have to consider your ex-husband or any other people of interest.”

  “What criminal element? You know something or someone?” She looked at Ted with raised brows. She had never heard of any criminal activities in the area.

  “There isn’t any one person we can point our finger at, but we have avenues to explore. That’s all I can tell you.”

  “You’re telling me this guy is a criminal? I ran by him, and he decided to kill me?”

  “No, I’m saying that’s one possibility we’ll investigate. Let us do our job, and we’ll let you know what we find.”

  Emily pinned him with her gaze. “Do you still think I did it?”

  “We’re not ruling anything out,” he said with a stare to match hers.

  Emily turned to look out the window. She thought about the man who had lost his life, and grief stabbed her in the chest. She had never met him, but she imagined the pain his family was going through.

  “How are they?” she said, turning toward the cop. “Mr. Hart’s family. Have you spoken to them?”

  For the first time, a flash of empathy flitted across the detective’s face.

  “They’re about as well as you could expect under the circumstances.”

  “Can I see them? Talk to them?” she said.

  “Emily, they’ve left the island,” Ted said, stepping forward. “And, besides, it wouldn’t be a good idea. Why put yourself through that?”

  “I want to tell them how sorry I am for what happened. I feel responsible.”