Storm of Doubt Read online

  Storm of Doubt

  Lantern Beach Romantic Suspense, Book 3

  Christy Barritt

  Contents

  Complete Book List

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Also by Christy Barritt:

  Other Books in the Lantern Beach Mystery Series:

  You might also enjoy …

  Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries:

  The Worst Detective Ever:

  About the Author

  Complete Book List

  Squeaky Clean Mysteries:

  #1 Hazardous Duty

  #2 Suspicious Minds

  #2.5 It Came Upon a Midnight Crime (novella)

  #3 Organized Grime

  #4 Dirty Deeds

  #5 The Scum of All Fears

  #6 To Love, Honor and Perish

  #7 Mucky Streak

  #8 Foul Play

  #9 Broom & Gloom

  #10 Dust and Obey

  #11 Thrill Squeaker

  #11.5 Swept Away (novella)

  #12 Cunning Attractions

  #13 Cold Case: Clean Getaway

  #14 Cold Case: Clean Sweep

  While You Were Sweeping, A Riley Thomas Spinoff

  The Sierra Files:

  #1 Pounced

  #2 Hunted

  #3 Pranced

  #4 Rattled

  The Gabby St. Claire Diaries (a Tween Mystery series):

  The Curtain Call Caper

  The Disappearing Dog Dilemma

  The Bungled Bike Burglaries

  The Worst Detective Ever

  #1 Ready to Fumble

  #2 Reign of Error

  #3 Safety in Blunders

  #4 Join the Flub

  #5 Blooper Freak

  #6 Flaw Abiding Citizen

  #7 Gaffe Out Loud (coming soon)

  #8 Joke and Dagger (coming soon)

  Raven Remington

  Relentless 1

  Relentless 2 (coming soon)

  Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries:

  #1 Random Acts of Murder

  #2 Random Acts of Deceit

  #2.5 Random Acts of Scrooge

  #3 Random Acts of Malice

  #4 Random Acts of Greed

  #5 Random Acts of Fraud

  #6 Random Acts of Outrage

  #7 Random Acts of Intiquity (coming soon)

  Lantern Beach Mysteries

  #1 Hidden Currents

  #2 Flood Watch

  #3 Storm Surge

  #4 Dangerous Waters

  #5 Perilous Riptide

  #6 Deadly Undertow

  Lantern Beach Romantic Suspense

  Tides of Deception

  Shadow of Intrigue

  Storm of Doubt

  Carolina Moon Series:

  Home Before Dark

  Gone By Dark

  Wait Until Dark

  Light the Dark

  Taken By Dark

  Suburban Sleuth Mysteries:

  Death of the Couch Potato’s Wife

  Cape Thomas Series:

  Dubiosity

  Disillusioned

  Distorted

  Standalone Romantic Mystery:

  The Good Girl

  Suspense:

  Edge of Peril

  Imperfect

  The Wrecking

  Standalone Romantic-Suspense:

  Keeping Guard

  The Last Target

  Race Against Time

  Ricochet

  Key Witness

  Lifeline

  High-Stakes Holiday Reunion

  Desperate Measures

  Hidden Agenda

  Mountain Hideaway

  Dark Harbor

  Shadow of Suspicion

  The Baby Assignment

  The Cradle Conspiracy (coming August 2019)

  Nonfiction:

  Characters in the Kitchen

  Changed: True Stories of Finding God through Christian Music (out of print)

  The Novel in Me: The Beginner’s Guide to Writing and Publishing a Novel (out of print)

  Chapter One

  As Juliette Grace glanced behind her, a cry escaped her lips. The guttural sound emerged from the depths of her soul—depths that couldn’t manage words. Depths that knew only raw fear—cold, hard terror unlike any she’d experienced before.

  She pushed herself harder—hard enough that her muscles burned. That her lungs tightened. That her heart raced far faster than her legs could move.

  The man from her nightmares was going to catch her.

  He was on her heels as she sprinted down the dark, isolated road. Juliette had only seen his eyes—the rest of his body was covered in black. But his gaze was enough for her to know that malice had been imbedded into the very fiber of his being.

  She had eluded him for three months, all the while living in overwhelming fear. Finally, she’d escaped her routine by coming to this lonely, sleepy island called Lantern Beach.

  But her plan hadn’t worked.

  He was here.

  He had found her.

  And, now, he was going to kill her.

  Another scream died in her throat.

  Just run, Juliette. Run.

  But the island was practically deserted at this bristly cold time of year. Would she really find help among these empty beach houses?

  She had little hope. But she had to try.

  Please, God. Please. Help me.

  “Juliette.” The man didn’t even sound out of breath. No, the singsong tone of his voice implied he enjoyed this. Like they were two lovers chasing each other in a playful romp on a romantic island.

  Juliette ran harder. But her legs wobbled with exertion. Her energy waned. Her lungs needed more air.

  How much longer could she flee? Or should she simply succumb to the inevitable?

  Should she succumb to death?

  Don’t think like that.

  But how could she not? Juliette had been living in fear for so long. And the fear had grown every day until it had consumed her. Until it dictated her actions. Until it monopolized her thoughts.

  If only Logan hadn’t broken his promise to her. Things would be different right now.

  Things should be different right now. These should be some of the best days of her life during the most wonderful season of the year—Christmas. But, just when one aspect of her life had exploded with success, another had hit rock bottom.

  Run, Juliette. Run.

  She glanced behind her again, sensing the man gaining on her.

  She was right. The man was less than five feet away.

  He’d catch her any time now. And then there would be no more running.

  She never should have come to Lantern Beach. This place would end up being her grave.

  But it was too late to change things.

  Now that his schedule had slowed down, Jack Wilson had started a new routine in the evenings: long, cold walks by himself around the island. The island with its now brittle marsh grass, its bone-chilling breezes, and its rugged, desolate beauty.

  Perhaps the lonely strolls reminded Jack at times of how barren his soul felt—a fact he could never admit out loud.

  If he dared to voice that thought, people might discover what a fraud he was.
<
br />   Preachers shouldn’t feel this empty or alone.

  Yet he did.

  And the island was the only thing that seemed to understand him.

  The island with its darkness and stillness was unmatched by anything else Jack had ever experienced. The solitude might overwhelm some people, but for Jack it felt like a visit with an old friend who knew his deepest, darkest secrets.

  Every day he bundled up and, just as the nighttime began falling, he walked from his home toward the secluded southern end of the island—an area with gravel roads, houses hidden down wooded lanes, and unmatched views of the winter horizon.

  As he walked, he talked to God. Whispered struggles he’d never dare to give breath. Tried to find answers to the question that had haunted him for months: What truly made up the fiber of his being?

  Was it faith? Or was it doubt?

  Jack still wasn’t sure.

  His boots crunched the gravel beneath them, and he shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his heavy winter coat. It was especially cold outside tonight. The middle of December on Lantern Beach had proven to be more formidable than he’d imagined. He’d only been here in the Sweltering Summer and Affable Autumn. He hadn’t given this season a name yet, but he was leaning toward Wicked Winter.

  He paced farther from the small house—the parsonage—beside the community church where he was currently serving. It was small, with only one hundred or so members. But they were mostly good people.

  Several in the congregation were close to his age and invited him along to dinners and occasional get-togethers. But something about being a pastor always made him feel like an outsider. Perhaps it was self-inflicted. Maybe it wasn’t.

  He did know that ministry was one of the loneliest professions in the world.

  His heart ached at the thought. Leah should be with him right now. Holding his hand. Talking to him about their dreams for the future. Helping him stay grounded.

  But Leah was gone. Jack wouldn’t see her again this side of eternity.

  Another ache rushed through him at the thought.

  He’d given up everything in his life to follow God. So why did Jack feel like God had abandoned him when he needed Him most?

  As he took another step, the familiar question echoing inside him, a sound pierced the stillness of the island.

  Jack paused.

  Was that another footfall? A crunch of gravel under an unknown weight?

  Jack had seen a fox during his walks as well as deer and the occasional stray dog. Once he’d even seen a goat that had escaped from a farm not far away.

  But this sound seemed heavier and rimmed with secrets.

  Rimmed with secrets? He couldn’t put his finger on why he sensed it. But he did.

  He glanced ahead of him at the stretch of road. It was lined by marsh grass and stray patches of live oak trees that reached their spindly fingers through the gray horizon.

  In the distance, another lane extended perpendicular. Jack wasn’t sure where it led, but he assumed an old beach house sat near the expanse of sound water at the end. The homes original to the island possessed massive amounts of land compared to the new buildings being constructed. This area was old and original.

  Jack quickened his steps as the protective side of him rustled to life. His muscles tensed with anticipation. Tensed just in case trouble was near.

  He finally reached the lane and glanced beyond the sparse vegetation. As he did, a scream cut through the silence.

  A scream?

  Jack took off in a sprint toward the sound.

  A woman had screamed. And she sounded scared. No, she sounded more than scared. She sounded terrified.

  Jack turned at a slight bend and spotted a woman on the ground. A man hunched over her, a knife raised in the air and poised to strike.

  “No! Please!” The woman raised her hands in front of her in a futile effort to protect herself.

  The masked man froze and glanced up.

  Spotted Jack.

  Then he took off in a sprint.

  Jack took a step, ready to chase after him.

  But he couldn’t.

  He had to check on the woman first.

  Jack knelt beside her, his knees digging into the sharp gravel, and sucked in a quick breath when he saw the blood on her abdomen.

  The man had stabbed her.

  “I’m here.” Jack stripped off his coat in order to reach the flannel shirt underneath. He balled up the clothing and placed it over her wound, applying pressure. “I’m going to get you help.”

  The woman—who was probably a few years younger than Jack—clutched his arm, her gaze wide with pain and fear. She opened her mouth, but no words escaped.

  Her eyes said enough—she needed help.

  Careful to keep one hand pressed against the clothes over her wound, Jack pulled out his phone to dial 911.

  But there was no signal out here. He’d feared that might be the case. Service on the island could be spotty.

  He grimaced and glanced around.

  The woman squeezed his arm harder. “Don’t . . . leave . . . me.”

  Her voice was a mere whisper. Each word seemed to require more effort than it should.

  Jack glanced down at her again, his heart squeezing with compassion. “I won’t. I promise, I won’t.”

  Before they lost any more time, he lifted her in his arms. His gaze swept around them as he took the first step.

  The man who’d done this to her was nowhere to be seen. That was the good news, he supposed. The bad news was that Jack probably had a half mile before he could get any cell service. This woman could lose a lot of blood between here and there.

  She moaned in his arms.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Jack murmured. “I’ll get help for you.”

  “Thank . . . you.” Her face pulled tight with pain.

  “What’s your name?” Jack wanted to keep her talking as long as he could. The longer she stayed lucid, the better. But she was losing too much blood.

  “Juliette.” Her eyes closed.

  “Juliette, I’m Jack.” He hurried down the road, almost running but not quite. “Where are you from?”

  “Atlanta,” she rasped.

  Did Jack have a phone signal yet? He didn’t know. He’d have to stop in order to check, and he wasn’t willing to do that yet.

  Instead he quickened his steps, knowing his chances were better if he could make it closer to town.

  He glanced down and saw Juliette’s eyes were closed again. He was losing her.

  “Atlanta is a nice place,” he continued.

  She remained silent.

  “I used to live in Baltimore,” Jack told her. “You ever been there?”

  “Once.” Her voice was barely audible.

  He was running out of time, he realized. Jack had to call for help. He had no other choice.

  He paused. “Juliette, I’m going to set you down for a minute—and just a minute—so I can call 911. Okay? I should have a signal here.”

  She nodded, the action heavy and drawn.

  Carefully, Jack lowered her to the ground and kneeled beside her. With an arm still supporting her, he pulled out his phone. His screen showed he had a signal.

  Thank goodness.

  He dialed the number and glanced down at Juliette. The moonlight hit her face just enough for him to make out a few details.

  Light brown hair that was cut to her shoulders. Soft, wavy curls framed her face. Freckles sprinkled across her nose.

  Those, along with her slim, petite build, gave her a youthful appearance, though Jack would guess her to be in her mid to late twenties.

  But mostly what he noticed was that Juliette looked pale. So pale. She’d lost so much blood.

  Anger surged through him at the thought of someone attacking her like this.

  As soon as he ended the call, Juliette gripped his arm, and her eyes flung open. Her gaze latched onto his.

  “Please . . . don’t leave me,” she w
hispered.

  His heart pounded in his ears at the helplessness in her voice. “I won’t.”

  “Promise me.”

  Jack hadn’t seen terror like this since . . . the battlefield in Iraq. “I promise. I won’t leave you.”

  Then Jack prayed help would get here in time.

  Chapter Two

  As Jack stood in the hallway of the island’s medical clinic, he finished telling Police Chief Cassidy Chambers what had happened. Around him, Christmas decorations adorned the place. Political correctness hadn’t killed the holiday spirit here in Lantern Beach.

  Evergreen boughs laced the top of the walls. Holiday music gently played overhead. A Nativity scene sat on the table in the waiting room. The scent of orange, clove, and cinnamon mingled with the sterile smell of rubbing alcohol and Lysol. Someone had apparently left some wassail in the employee lounge.

  It was too bad that Jack didn’t feel any of that Christmas spirit right now. How could he with Juliette in surgery and the man who’d stabbed her still on the loose?

  “So that’s all this woman said?” Cassidy said. “That her name was Juliette, and she was from Atlanta?”

  Jack nodded and ran a hand through his hair, replaying the events of the last hour. The ambulance had arrived thirty minutes ago. He’d ridden in the back with Juliette to the clinic. She’d held tightly to his hand, as if afraid to let go.

  The woman’s despair had twisted his heart and now consumed his thoughts.

  “That’s all she said,” Jack continued. “She appeared to be in pain and unable to say much.”

  Cassidy glanced at the notepad in her hands. “You didn’t get a good look at the face of the man who did this to her?”

  “No, he was dressed in all black. There wasn’t much to see. And Juliette needed help, so I had to choose between aiding her or chasing him.”