Home Before Dark (Christian Romantic Suspense) (Carolina Moon Book 1) Page 3

  Of course, being in Hertford wasn’t much different. Her sister wouldn’t care if Daleigh dropped off the face of the earth. Her nieces barely knew her. She’d had more time to play with them on the day before the funeral than she had since they’d been born.

  It seemed the only person in the entire world who’d really loved her was gone. Loneliness battered her heart, and she pulled her arms over her chest.

  Ryan’s smile, for some reason, fluttered through her mind.

  Gritting her teeth, she decided to go to her sister’s. She had no choice but to find out what happened to her father. Maybe her sister had a clue about what Dad meant in his journal.

  The subject would have to be approached very delicately, though.

  ***

  “They delivered your car? They’ve never delivered my car.” Hannah unloaded the groceries from paper bags.

  “Well, maybe he felt sorry for me since I had an emotional breakdown yesterday when I dropped the car off.” Daleigh heard the hint of sarcasm and worked to calm herself. She twisted the tissue in her hands, wondering how this conversation would turn out. All the others she and her sister engaged in had ended in a fight—about the funeral, what Dad would want, how to handle his estate.

  “It’s hard to believe Dad’s gone, isn’t it?” A fresh round of tears poured down Hannah’s cheeks, along with enough mascara to fill an ink pen. “Oh, Daleigh. What are we going to do?”

  “We’ll move on the best we can. Dad wouldn’t want us sitting around and crying all day.”

  Hannah sniffled. “You’re right. I can’t cry all day. I have a family to take care of. I have responsibilities.” Her sister cast a sharp glance at her. “At least you can take the opportunity to grieve.”

  Daleigh suppressed a sigh. “I have responsibilities, too, Hannah. They’re just different than yours.”

  Her sister laughed and pulled a plastic container from the cabinet. “You’re still a kid, Daleigh. You always will be. You even look like a kid. Why couldn’t I have gotten that anti-aging gene?”

  Daleigh gritted her teeth. “I’m twenty-eight. Hardly a kid.”

  “I’ve almost given up hope that you’re going to ever have a family of your own. I’d like nieces and nephews one day, you know. Of course, Bruce’s brother has children, but it’s not the same.” She paused from pouring flour into the marked container. “You never did say where Vince was.”

  At the mention of Vince’s name, Daleigh’s stomach turned. He was probably in the studio now, merrily working on another project. Piper’s project. “He couldn’t get away. There’s an album he’s working on that’s demanding all his time.”

  “I’d like to meet him, especially if he’s going to be my brother-in-law one day.”

  Daleigh tore another shred of paper from her tissue. “We’re not engaged, Hannah. You know that.”

  “Yeah, but this is by far your most serious relationship. It’s only a matter of time.”

  Not if I break up with him, it’s not. Daleigh changed the subject. Her emotions and logic collided inside, and Daleigh didn’t know what to think anymore.

  “I have a question for you, big sis.” Daleigh propelled herself on top of the kitchen cabinet. Hannah gave her a dirty look, but Daleigh ignored it. She paused, choosing her words carefully.

  “Well, what is it? Spit it out.”

  “Was Dad acting weird before he died?”

  Her sister finally paused from her obsessive sorting of groceries and stared at Daleigh. “What do you mean? Was he losing it or something?”

  Daleigh could hear the condemnation in Hannah’s voice. Don’t say something you’ll regret, Daleigh. Be patient and loving. “No, I just mean was he acting like himself?”

  Hannah shrugged and resumed sorting through the frozen vegetables. “Yeah, he was acting like himself. Why are you asking?”

  “Just wondering.”

  She paused again. “You know, now that you mention it, he was disappearing more than usual. He wanted to be by himself and take long walks alone. But you know how Dad is.” Her voice caught. “Was, I guess I should say.” Her voice softened. “He was kind of eccentric sometimes.”

  “Had anything happened that upset him?”

  The tenderness in Hannah’s voice disappeared and a patronizing tone took its place. “What’s with all the questions, Daleigh? You think I didn’t look after him? Well, at least I was here for him.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “I mean, he lived here with me for the past four years. Do you know how hard it’s going to be to see the guest cottage and realize he’s not there?”

  “I know it’s going to be tough, Hannah.”

  “Dad helped out with so much, everything from watching the girls to helping with the yard work. Bruce doesn’t mind helping, but he’s hardly ever home, being a surgeon and all. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  Yes, Hannah reminded Daleigh almost every time they spoke that she’d married a surgeon. It was one of Hannah’s requirements for the man she married—he had to be rich. Oh, she’d never said that aloud, but her actions said plenty. And now Hannah had what she wanted—a beautiful, restored Victorian, more money than she could spend, and a life where she wanted for nothing.

  “It’s going to be the small things I miss. Dad was just always there, whenever we needed him,” Hannah continued. The tears started pouring again. “And now you’re leaving us, aren’t you? You’re going back to Nashville.”

  A lump formed in Daleigh’s throat. “Eventually.”

  Hannah sniffled. “Not today?”

  “I decided to stay in town for a day or so longer. If that’s okay with you,” she added.

  “You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. The kids will love to spend more time with their Aunt Daleigh.”

  Daleigh smiled. “They’re great kids.”

  “You’re really good with kids, you know.”

  “Only other people’s.” Daleigh shrugged. She loved Hannah’s kids and regretted she wasn’t closer to them.

  “Settling down isn’t that scary.”

  “I know.”

  “Hertford’s a nice town.”

  Daleigh shrugged again. “I’m not really a small town kind of girl.”

  “I guess it would be kind of hard for Vince to produce music from here, huh?” Hannah then looked up with bright, hopeful eyes. “You could have a second home here.”

  “That sounds expensive.”

  “How many number one hits has he produced? At least thirty and I’m not even keeping count. I’m sure Vince has money.”

  “Forty-seven hits,” Daleigh said. The number came out of Vince’s mouth so often no one could forget it. Daleigh thought of Piper and a few other women and wondered if Vince had cheated on her once for every Billboard chart topper. “And you’re assuming again that we’re getting married,” Daleigh said.

  “I thought we already decided that you were.”

  Daleigh rolled her eyes. This was exactly why she wanted to get out of town today. Much more time around Hannah and Daleigh was going to lose it.

  Chapter Three

  The sun just started its descent when Daleigh decided to look for the police station. She stuffed her dad’s journal into an oversized purse and began her way down the street.

  She soaked in a mural displaying Hertford’s history from its Native American legacy to the Civil War battles fought here. It decorated the side of an old hardware store as she came into town from the east. A vendor sold fresh fruit and vegetables from a wooden cart on the opposite corner. Colorful planters and welcoming park benches sat randomly along the storefronts.

  Just a street over, the river curled around the town protectively. Daleigh caught a glimpse of the glorious blue as it stretched in the distance and smiled. Towns didn’t get more picture-perfect than this.

  Hannah and the kids had gone into Elizabeth City to grab a bite to eat. Bruce wouldn’t be home until who-knew-what hour, so Daleigh would
have time to do some more investigating without her sister’s scrutiny.

  A vertical black and white sign for the local pharmacy decorated the street corner on the other end of town. She also saw a café, a travel agency, and several gift shops. Veering from Main Street, she looked for the police department, which she vaguely remembered seeing on the drive back from Dad’s funeral.

  A case of nerves suddenly hit her. Sharing the information she’d discovered would make it real. Until now what she’d found had seemed like a bad dream. Daleigh wondered if the information could set off a chain of reactions and speculation. What if it made her father look bad? What if he was involved in something crooked by association? She doubted it, but was it possible?

  No, Daleigh. Let the professionals do their job. They’re trained. They can look at the evidence objectively. This is the best way to handle things.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she opened the door and approached a blonde receptionist. A few moments later, Daleigh was ushered into a small office framed with dark wooden paneling. Pictures of lighthouses hung on the wall and a simple off-white swag draped the window.

  A petite woman with curly, red hair swiveled around. The woman’s eyes sparkled and, though Daleigh would have guessed her to be in her forties, her athletic build lent to youthfulness. She reminded Daleigh of Reba McEntire.

  “If it isn’t Daleigh McDermott. I’m a big fan of your music. Loved your concert in Norfolk last year, sweetie. My thirteen-year-old thinks you hung the moon.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate the compliment.”

  “Doing any concerts around here anytime soon?”

  Wouldn’t she and Vince like to know? “I’m not sure.”

  The chief waved her hand as if embarrassed. “I know you have a lot of other things on your mind right now, sweetie. Forgive me for even asking. It’s just not often we have a celebrity in town.”

  Celebrity. Daleigh hated that word. It gave the impression she was more important than others, that she deserved honor. Besides, she was more of a one-hit wonder. Her star power was quickly diminishing—unless she made some drastic changes.

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “You’re just as gracious as I thought you’d be. Now, I’m Chief Rollins. I’m assuming you didn’t stop by to talk about your musical career, so what can I do for you?”

  Daleigh cleared her throat. “It’s about my father.”

  “Your father was a good man. I loved hearing his baritone voice behind me at church. It made it easy to see where you got your talent.”

  “He was a jack of all trades, you could say.” Daleigh lowered herself onto the molded orange chair in front of her and drew in a breath. “I have reason to believe his death may not have been an accident.”

  The chief scrunched her eyebrows. “Tell me why you think that.”

  Daleigh already had a sense that she could trust this woman. The chief seemed like a spitfire, as if she had enough spunk not to back down on things. Drawing on that assumption, Daleigh pulled her purse in front of her and unclasped it. Seeing the notebook made her throat go dry.

  She slid the book across the desk, ignoring her shaky fingers. “I found this journal in my dad’s room. He mentions someone dying and someone else wanting to kill him.”

  The woman’s eyebrows drew even closer together, if that was possible. She leaned forward. “Someone dying, you say?” The chief’s face was blank—inscrutable—as she took the book.

  “Murdered, actually.”

  She leaned back. “Honey, we haven’t had a murder in this town in years.”

  Daleigh raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the journal. “Judge for yourself.”

  Chief Rollins opened the book and grunted as her eyes scanned the pages. Slowly, she closed the notebook. Maternal concern wreathed her pixie face. “Sugar, I have to tell you—this town is one of the safest around. I really believe your father’s death was an accident.” She tapped the book again in contemplation. “There were no signs of foul play. You sure he wasn’t writing a crime novel?”

  “I doubt it. He never mentioned it to me.”

  “We’ve had three deaths in the past year. Two were residents over eighty years old. The third was a college student who’d been driving drunk and hit a tree. It was tragic for the whole town, but there was no foul play involved.” The chief looked down at the journal again and sighed. “Unfortunately, this evidence is all circumstantial. There’s nothing to warrant a case.” Compassion wrinkled the corners of her green eyes, offering hope to Daleigh. “But I’ll tell you what, if it will make you feel better, I’ll do a little snooping and see if I can find out anything. How’s that sound?”

  It might not have been much to go on, but it was more than Daleigh had before. “I’d appreciate any help I can get.”

  Chief Rollins handed the journal back. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.” An officer knocked on the door, and the chief nodded his way. “If you’ll excuse me, dear.”

  “Of course.” Daleigh stuffed the journal into her purse and departed into the fading sunlight outdoors.

  She had to talk this over with someone. Her sister wasn’t an option. Hannah would either sneer at Daleigh’s concerns or become hysterical. Daleigh couldn’t handle either right now. Her brother-in-law was never around. Maybe Vince.

  Why did her heart twist at the thought of him? The flutters of infatuation were long gone in their turbulent relationship—not that she thought relationships were all about warm, fuzzy feelings. But some of her feelings about her boyfriend should be positive, shouldn’t they? That’s what all the songs she wrote about seemed to say.

  She paused by a park bench and, after she found her cell phone in her purse, dialed Vince’s number at work—where he no doubt was. His secretary, Lauren, picked up. There were days when Daleigh talked to Lauren more than she talked to Vince.

  “Daleigh, I’m so sorry to hear about your father. How are you doing?”

  “I’ve been better.” Daleigh didn’t feel up to polite chitchat at the moment. She had too much on her mind. “Look, is Vince there?”

  “He is, but he’s in the middle of recording. Can I have him call you back?”

  Daleigh’s heart twisted, although the news didn’t surprise her. “It’s important.”

  “Let me see if he can give you a few minutes of his time.”

  Daleigh leaned against the brick storefront behind her and waited. To her relief, Vince’s confident voice came on the line a few minutes later. “Hey, sweetheart. How’s my favorite girl doing?”

  “It’s been rough. Really rough. It doesn’t seem possible that my dad won’t be around anymore.”

  “Losing someone you love is never easy,” he assured her. “It will get better with time.”

  They were basically the same words that Ryan had told her yesterday. Why did a stranger who replaced mufflers for a living offer so much sincere comfort, while the man who supposedly loved her—who made his living with poetic words and music—could only manage platitudes?

  “Listen, sweetie, I know you need to talk, but I’ve got some musicians in here that I’m paying by the hour. I know they don’t want to be here all night, so I need to run. I’ll call you when I get home tonight, okay?”

  Vince’s brush-off ignited her temper. “No, it’s not okay. I really need to talk.”

  Silence stretched on the other line. He was always too busy, and she always backed down when he put his work before their relationship. But if he couldn’t be there for her when her father died, then what did that say about their relationship?

  Daleigh could imagine his square, bristly jaw, tensed into a firm line, and his Roman nose tilted in the air.

  “What is it, Daleigh? What’s so important that you need to talk right now?”

  Daleigh shook her head. He was listening out of pure obligation. His tone was that of a parent talking to a child. She didn’t want to be emotional and hard to please, but she wouldn’t be talked down to or treated poorly eithe
r.

  “You need to talk,” he clipped.

  “My dad is dead, Vince.”

  Muffled voices murmured in the background, only igniting her frustration more.

  “I know, but people die every day. I’m real sorry I can’t be there for you, but what can I do?”

  Hold me. Tell me it’s okay. Let me know I’m important to you.

  “Look, honey, I have to go. We’ll just have to talk when you get back. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it is what it is.”

  “Don’t bother, Vince. As far as I’m concerned, we’re done. You can’t even make time for me when my father has died. That tells me a lot about your character and your feelings for me.”

  “Daleigh—”

  “There’s nothing else to talk about.” She flipped the phone shut, wishing it were an old-fashioned phone so she could slam down the receiver.

  She knew Vince wouldn’t forgive her hanging up on him. At least not easily. And it was always Daleigh’s job to do the crawling, to back down and make the changes to accommodate him. Not this time. She’d wasted enough energy with this relationship. She was only sorry it had taken her father’s death to make her realize it.

  She stood there on Main Street, staring at her phone. Her dad was gone. She’d broken up with her boyfriend. She had a sister whose favorite hobby was insulting her. Where did she go from here?

  Chapter Four

  Daleigh’s feet led her down the sidewalk, taking on a mind of their own. Before she knew it, she was outside Ryan’s garage.

  Her father had trusted the man. Daleigh needed to talk with someone. Why not Ryan? He’d been nothing but kind. Maybe he could offer her some kind of insight as to what her father had been up to in his final days.

  She stepped under the open garage door and inhaled the scent of grease and oil. It reminded her of her dad, who often tinkered with a motor out in the garage. His father—Daleigh’s granddad—had been a mechanic in the army and had taught Dad everything he knew—from cars to how to properly make a bed. Whenever her dad needed to think—to really think and mull over life—he always did so under the guise of working under the hood.