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  The sheriff nodded slowly. “You’ll need to stay in this area while the investigation is ongoing. Do you understand?”

  Molly nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “We’ll tow your car in to get any evidence from it. We’ll let you know when it’s released. We’ll also need for you to be available in case we have any more questions.”

  “Understood.”

  Nick nodded toward his truck. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

  Molly sighed. She was leaving one crime scene but entering another situation that seemed just as deadly...for her heart, at least.

  * * *

  An hour ago it had felt surreal to be driving down the rural Virginia road. By instinct Nick still expected to see the dusty, war-torn roads of Iraq as he traveled. He still felt on guard, waiting to encounter an improvised explosive device or to be surrounded in an ambush. That kind of conditioning took time to break, even as he was half a world away from the violence.

  He’d only been back in the United States for a month, and he was still adjusting to this new chapter of his life. Though he was no longer a Navy chaplain, his military experiences would always be a part of him. He’d never forget the things he’d seen, the men and women whose lives had been changed. He’d been changed.

  Up until an hour ago, that change had been his biggest thought. But now Molly sat next to him in his truck. They hadn’t spoken since Nick broke up with her nearly a decade ago. He’d never expected to see her again, though he still thought about her often, wondering how she was, wondering if she’d ever understand why he’d had to break things off with her. Would Molly ever forgive him?

  Nick didn’t know the answer to that question, nor did he know if he even had the strength to address it now. When his last relationship ended six months ago, he’d realized that he was emotionally closed from giving his heart to someone else. He’d kept himself hidden behind taking care of other people for so long that he’d forgotten how to be vulnerable or to address his own needs. He wasn’t sure he could be vulnerable. Taking care of other people seemed safer than trying to take care of himself. It was one of the reasons he’d come back here. Since losing his grandfather and his best friend within a year of each other, he’d shoved his own emotions into a dark corner. He had to address those issues and, until he did, his life would continue to feel stalled.

  Did God bring Molly back into his life to remind him of his past failures?

  Nick could see that Molly was nervous beside him as she twisted around in her seat. Her eyes looked red-rimmed, as if she fought tears. Her gaze fixated on something out the window.

  He cranked the engine of his old clunker, left to him by his grandfather. “You ready?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose.”

  They rumbled down the road in silence for several minutes. Nick had so many questions that each seemed to be on a collision course in his head. Why would Molly show up here? Why now? And why hadn’t Gene mentioned to anyone at the camp that he’d hired someone as a nurse? Certainly the board of directors would have mentioned that to Nick.

  Of course, if Gene hadn’t left in such a hurry, maybe the camp wouldn’t be in such disarray right now. Maybe Nick wouldn’t feel like he’d been sucked into the middle of a tornado, wondering exactly where he would land when the storm was over.

  He had to say something to Molly. Even though the ride to the camp was only ten minutes, each moment of silence seemed to make the trip stretch on for hours. Long, painful hours.

  He cleared his throat. “How are you, Molly?”

  “I may have just killed a man.”

  “He was lying in the road, right? You wouldn’t hold any blame for that. He was most likely already dead. That’s even what the medical examiner said.”

  She shivered and pulled her arms more tightly around herself. “What if he wasn’t?”

  “Don’t think like that.”

  “I mean, why would he just be lying on the road?”

  “Maybe an animal got to him. Maybe he was trying to get to help when his body just couldn’t take any more and he collapsed on the road.”

  “And I hit him...”

  Silence stretched again. What did he say to that? Why would a man just be lying in the middle of the road? What explanation could there be for that? He tried to think of another, but couldn’t.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Molly finally said.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  She didn’t look at him, only straight ahead at the road before them as an uncomfortable tension stretched between them. “What happened to Gene?”

  “He left unexpectedly.” Gene was Nick’s cousin and had always been a touch flighty. But leaving this way was unexpected, even for someone like Gene.

  “I just talked to him last week.”

  Nick suppressed a sigh. “Last week is when he left.” Nick had arrived back in the States a month ago, his military term completed. He’d retreated to the small home he owned forty minutes away from the camp. He knew he needed to rediscover his faith, which felt as tattered, worn and bruised as the battlefields he’d left in the Middle East. Instead, Gene had disappeared, and Nick had been thrust into the position of camp director. Upon his grandfather’s death a year ago, this property had been left to Nick. Nick knew it was his duty to step up and run the camp instead of simply taking the advisory role he’d planned, but in doing so, he felt even more guarded than ever. He knew his heart had a big, gaping wound in it, one that needed time to heal. Instead, he’d been thrust back into the battle.

  Molly shook her head. “Camp starts tomorrow. I can’t believe Gene would cut out on you a week before the camp season kicks off.”

  “That’s what everyone is saying. The board of directors is not very happy, to say the least. Gene never gave any indication that he wasn’t happy here. It’s like he just decided one day to up and leave. Left all of his things, even.”

  “Did anyone file a police report?”

  “We let the police know what happened. The thing is, there’s no sign of foul play. It just seems like he took off and left, following after another flight of fancy. Even Gene’s family agrees. Sure, they’re worried. But I guess we all expect him to come trotting back here any day now and tell us crazy stories about his latest adventures.”

  “Are you sure he left on his own volition?”

  Nick swiveled his head toward her. “What are you suggesting?” His words weren’t pointed, only inquisitive with a touch of surprise.

  She shook her head. “Nothing. The accident is just doing weird things to my imagination, I suppose.”

  “The camp is a safe place, a place where kids go to find some peace, to meet God. It’s not a place for fear or danger. It’s a place of community, not...”

  “Heartbreak. Judgment,” Molly finished.

  He could understand the jab about heartbreak, but judgment? Who had judged Molly? She’d always been well-loved, liked and respected. She’d risen above her circumstances, a hard childhood that included a neglectful mother who cared more about finding a new boyfriend than taking care of Molly. Still, despite those setbacks, Molly had become a strong, courageous woman who loved Jesus. What was there to judge?

  Camp is a safe place, he repeated to himself. It suddenly didn’t feel so safe anymore, not with Molly here to wreak havoc on his heart.

  He approached the turn into the camp. His foot hit the brakes as the wooden sign proclaiming “Camp Hope Spr
ings” came into view.

  Pieces of the sign laid scattered in jagged pieces at the camp’s entrance. Even from his perspective in the truck, it appeared someone had taken a chainsaw and ripped into it. Sharp, ragged chunks of wood were sliced and carved and slashed off.

  Nick’s heart sank. Could anything else go wrong?

  He had a feeling he didn’t want to know the answer to that question.

  TWO

  Molly straightened in her seat when she saw the destroyed sign. Her hands gripped the armrest beside her. “What happened?”

  Nick threw the truck into Park. “The sign wasn’t like this when I left for Bible study a few hours ago.” He stepped from the truck and Molly scrambled out behind him. She decided she felt safer with Nick outside than she did by herself in the truck.

  The sound of the woods enveloped them as soon as she set foot on the gravel drive leading to the camp. Aside from the battered sign, the entrance to the camp was just as she remembered it. A gravel road curved into the woods and she could barely see the lights that illuminated the camp’s sidewalks twinkling through the trees. It was nothing fancy, nothing that would impress most people.

  For a moment—and just a moment—it looked more enticing than a five-star resort. Then she remembered the events at hand all around her and the five-star resort image disappeared.

  She stepped behind Nick and looked at the damage. The hand-carved wooden sign that once read “Camp Hope Springs” had been—violently, it appeared to Molly—dismembered. Based purely on intuition, Molly knew whoever had done this had been angry.

  She tried to find something comforting or sensible to say. Instead, she muttered, “Wow.”

  “Wow is right.” Nick circled the mess, seemingly soaking in each detail. “I don’t get it. Why would someone do this?”

  “People do senseless things all the time. Maybe this is simply the work of vandals, or some bored teenagers who thought they didn’t have anything better to do.”

  “I’ll have to get this cleaned up before the campers come tomorrow.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It will be one more thing to add to my list.”

  “I’m sure the rest of the staff will pitch in.”

  His gaze cut to hers. “Camp isn’t like it was when we came here, Molly. Our numbers are down...way down. We’ve had to cut staff in order to make budget. I’m basically the staff here.”

  She twisted her head sideways. “Just you?”

  “We have a part-time cook and a college kid who acts as lifeguard. A local man comes in once a week to cut the grass for us. That’s it. The board of directors pitches in when they can. Local churches assign camp counselors and junior counselors as volunteers for their given weeks.”

  She shoved her chin up. “And me. You’ve got me.”

  A strange emotion flickered through his gaze. “And you.”

  “I won’t stay if you don’t want me to, Nick. I understand.” Now why had she said that? She wanted to take back her words. Instead, she held her breath as she waited for his response.

  He started back toward the truck. “No, you can stay. We need a nurse—a real nurse. You are a real nurse, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve been an RN for the past six years up at the naval hospital in Maryland. I’m plenty qualified.” And also just cleared of life-changing allegations of stealing drugs with the intent to distribute. She kept that to herself. She knew she wasn’t guilty and that she’d been cleared, but even the mention of the allegations could cause some people to question her innocence. At the least it could plant doubt in people’s minds. Why bring up something that would only ultimately hurt her?

  “You’re hired then.”

  Despite the summer heat, Molly felt chilled from the feeling of unseen eyes watching her from the darkness around her. She always felt that way when the woods were nearby. Something about those trees, about the miles of nothing but forest, always had frightened her. She knew all too well how isolating that landscape could be, how one direction could blend into another until you didn’t know where you were. She knew about the sounds of animals at night as they skulked around, looking for prey. The woods were no place to play around.

  As they walked back to the truck, something popped in the distance. They both paused, and their gazes met.

  “Was that gunfire?” Molly almost felt foolish for asking. Certainly that noise wasn’t a gun. Not here. Not now.

  Nick looked in the distance, his expression rigid and serious. “Sure sounded like it, didn’t it?”

  Another pop sounded, followed by a ting. Molly’s gaze cut toward the noise and she gasped, raising a shaky finger at Nick’s truck, right above the front tire. “Bullet hole.”

  Nick threw her to the ground, his body covering hers, just as another bullet sank into the side of his truck. “Has the whole world gone mad tonight?”

  Molly’s heart raced as she waited for whatever would happen next. She turned her head toward Nick. “Why is someone firing at us?”

  “I wish I knew. We’ve got to get out of here.” He nodded at the truck. “Can you scoot under the truck to the other side?”

  Molly nodded just as another gunshot sounded. Shivers raced through her as she pulled herself over the gravel and dust beneath her. The warmth of the truck sizzled across her back.

  “You okay?” Nick remained beside her, placing himself between any bullets and her. At least the man was chivalrous, if nothing else.

  Her throat felt as dry as the dusty road beneath her, but still she nodded. “For the moment.”

  “We’re going to get out of this.”

  “What exactly is this?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  She rolled from beneath the truck to the other side and waited for Nick to do the same. As he pulled himself out from underneath the vehicle, another pop cracked the air in the distance.

  Nick pointed to his truck. “Get in. We’ve got to get out of here!”

  Molly didn’t argue. She dove into the truck through the driver’s side and stayed low as she crawled over for Nick to climb behind the wheel. He sped off down the lane, throwing gravel as he did. It wasn’t for another few minutes that Molly’s heart slowed.

  “What was that about?” Molly dared ask. “What’s going on?”

  Nick shook his head, the action looking heavy and weighted. “I have no idea. The sheriff is going to have a busy evening tonight, though.”

  “Was someone trying to kill us?” She trembled as the words left her mouth.

  “I don’t know about killing us. I do know that someone’s trying to send a message.” He glanced at her. “We’ll get this figured out.”

  Molly tried to shove those thoughts aside. All she wanted was to be somewhere safe. But could she feel safe here after everything that happened? With the man who’d broken her heart and abandoned her all those years ago? If her racing heart was any indication, then the answer was no.

  Molly got another whiff of Nick’s masculine scent just then. It was a mixture of mint and smoldering ashes from a campfire. The smell sent her back a decade. Nick hadn’t really changed, not even his scent. Molly’s gaze traveled to Nick’s fingers where they gripped the steering wheel. They looked callused, as if he’d been working outside. He’d always been the perfect mix of outdoorsman and all-American boy—man now, she realized with clarity.

  She cleared her throat, shoving down all of the emotions that had come rushing back to her. “All of this crime...isn’t it unusual for this ar
ea? The camp seems so...peaceful. At least my memories of the place are.”

  “It’s very unusual. Nothing happens out here. It’s just country folks who farm and work little local jobs. Quite honestly, I don’t have time to deal with any of this right now.”

  Molly had a feeling that “any of this” included her. She decided not to say anything. Instead, she put her hands in her lap as the truck crunched over the gravel leading to the camp. Her eyes soaked in everything. It looked the same, even after ten years.

  This wasn’t a fancy camp where rich kids came as a luxury each summer. There were no tennis courts, horseback-riding lessons or rock-climbing walls. Camp Hope Springs was a little run-down, mostly with outdated buildings boasting cement floors, wood paneling and bathrooms that, even when cleaned, still appeared dirty. But for Molly, this camp was one of the first places she’d met God.

  They passed the multipurpose building, named The Hill, where all of the classes and worship services were held. Beyond The Hill were the girls’ cabins. On the opposite side of a huge open field were the boys’ cabins. A pool surrounded by a chain-link fence waited beyond that. At the end of the drive, they reached a parking lot and the cafeteria.

  “I forgot to get your suitcase. Not sure the sheriff would have let me take it anyway, until the scene is cleared,” Nick said. “Maybe he can bring it when he comes to check out the gunfire.”

  Molly shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll survive without it for awhile.”

  He nodded toward the cafeteria. “Come on. I’ll show you where you’re staying. I don’t have time to be very sociable right now. There’s too much to do before the campers show up tomorrow—including figuring out where those bullets came from. I apologize in advance for being a little preoccupied.”

  “Understood.” She didn’t expect him to be polite or sociable. She hardly expected him to be civil, but she’d take what she could get at this point.