Page 6 of Shattered Sanctuary

“Miss Delaney, my name is Adrian Nightengale. I’m the police chief in Sanctuary. I’d like to talk to you.”

“Would you show me your badge please?” If he couldn’t produce one, she intended to dial 911. She tightened her grip on the phone she’d automatically grabbed before coming down the stairs.

The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a leather wallet. He opened it and then held it up in front of the peep hole. Sure enough, it was a badge. Erin slipped her phone into her pocket. She pressed the intercom button again.

“Is something wrong, Chief?” she asked.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said. “But I need your help. Could I come in, please?”

Although his badge looked genuine, Erin felt a stab of apprehension. Research for her book had required her to explore the minds of several serial killers. There were some who’d impersonated police officers to lure unsuspecting women to their deaths. Kenneth Bianchi and his cousin,Angelo Buono, came to mind. Together they’d raped and killed ten women, but the number could be higher. There were some murders that investigators felt could have been committed by one or both of them, but they were never able to get indictments due to a lack of evidence.

Erin took a deep breath. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather come out there and talk to you,” she said. “Will you step back?”

“Of course. No problem.”

At that moment, Erin wished she’d grabbed her gun before answering the door, but it was upstairs, still locked in the metal box she used to store it. It wasn’t loaded, she kept her clips somewhere else, making it legal for her to transport it.

She really was being paranoid, but she couldn’t help it. The onslaught of letters, emails, and people on social media who seemed abnormally interested in her since the book had released made her wary. Some of the messages were rather disturbing. She realized taking her gun out of the locked box would keep her safer from the dangers that might be out there in the world, but she wasn’t certain it would keep her safe from herself.

Erin fought a feeling of panic that made her feel nauseated. Her throat burned, and she swallowed the acrid bile that tried to push its way into her mouth. Fear had become her constant companion—one that she detested. She used to be so brave. Where was that woman?

Just then she heard a car pull into the driveway. She moved back the drape that hung next to the front door. A patrol car. Two officers got out and hurried up to the porch. She listened as they talked to the man standing there. She clearly heard them call himchief.As they turned to leave, she finallyopened the door, her body trembling with the effort. This man was clearly who he said he was. He moved back a few feet as she took a deep breath and stepped out onto the porch.

Chief Adrian Nightengale looked too young to be a police chief. His thick dark hair was combed back from his face and curled around his neck. He sported a light mustache and beard, and his thick eyebrows sat over hazel eyes that peered deeply into hers. She felt as if he were seeing too much—more than she wanted revealed. It was almost too personal. Too intrusive. Even though she wasn’t happy about being bothered, she took a quick breath. He actually looked remarkably like a character in her book. A police detective she’d named Jake Mallory. How could Jake be standing here in front of her?

Erin suddenly felt a little insecure in her sweats, t-shirt, and jacket. Her hand slipped up to check her hair. Although she wore her light blonde hair short in what some people would call a “messy style,” there was a difference between purposely messy and just plain messy. The wordbedheadcame to mind.

She quickly ran her hand through her hair and then dropped her arm. She’d removed her makeup last night and knew her scar was visible. She felt the urge to cover it with her hand, but that would call even more attention to it. Why was she feeling vulnerable? This man had interrupted her sleep. He was the one who should feel uncomfortable. She straightened her shoulders, frowned, and said, “What can I do for you, Chief?”

“I heard you were staying here, Miss Delaney. I read your book.”

“You woke me up this early to tell me you liked my book, Chief? Really?” Her discomfort quickly turned to irritation. She’d come to this place to get away from people. “This is highly inappropriate.”

The chief frowned. “No, Miss Delaney. I didn’t come here because I liked your book. I don’t believe I said that. I’m here because your knowledge of crime scenes was spot on. Very impressive. Something has happened, and I’d appreciate your help. This situation is... unusual for us, and I’m afraid we might miss something important.”

Erin was so surprised she opened her mouth but couldn’t find the right words to respond to his ridiculous statement. Finally, she said, “Chief Nightengale, I’m an author, not a police officer anymore, and certainly not a criminalist. You’re asking the wrong person for help.”

“We’re a small department,” the chief said. “Youwerea police officer, and you’ve done a lot of research for your book. I realize that this seems like a strange request, but I need you, Miss Delaney. You see, a young woman has been murdered.”

FIVE

As Erin pulled on her jeans and grabbed a shirt, she couldn’t believe she was actually getting ready to follow a small-town police chief into the woods to look at a corpse. It was true that before she left the police department, her goal was to become a detective. Her research with Kaely had taught her a lot about reading crime scenes, although she’d also learned a great deal from being on the force. St. Louis was rife with crime and dead bodies. Still, this was something she didn’t feel prepared for. She wished Kaely was here. She was the one who should be assisting the chief.

After she was dressed, she ran a brush through her hair and then shaped it with mousse. She carefully applied the cover up makeup she used to hide the scar she’d been given by a gang member’s knife while trying to secure him. When she was certain it was concealed as well as possible, she added a little blush and mascara. She stared at herself in the mirror. Scott had told her she was beautiful, and she’d almost believed him. But not anymore. Regardless, she was as ready as she would ever be. She made sure to put her phone in her pocket. She intended to take plenty of pictures. Sheand Kaely could go through them after she arrived. She’d probably see something Erin missed.

She hurried downstairs and grabbed her coat. November was chilly in Tennessee. She took a deep breath and opened the door. Chief Nightengale was standing next to a ruby-red Jeep Wrangler. Pretty bold for a small-town police chief. Again, she was struck by how much he looked like Jake. Weird. She closed the door and walked up to him. His eyes searched hers, and once again she felt a slight shock as she reacted to him without meaning to.

“Thank you for this,” he said. “I realize you don’t feel qualified to look over my crime scene, but I truly believe that your time with the St. Louis police department, as well as the research you did for your book, makes you extremely competent for this situation. We’ve never faced anything like this before in Sanctuary.”

“I’m willing to do what I can,” Erin said, “but if you don’t mind, I’d like to take some pictures. My friend, Kaely Hunter, will be here later today. She worked as a...”

“Behavioral analyst for the FBI,” the chief finished for her. “I know. As I said, I read your book and saw the acknowledgment you wrote for her. I’d be happy to have her input.” He frowned. “Maybe this is just a murder.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, that sounds rather flippant. Any murder is a tragedy. Even though Sanctuary is small, we’ve had our share of death. But this is... different. I’m sure you’ll understand why I wanted your feedback when you see the body.”

He opened the door of his Jeep and motioned for Erin to get inside.

“We can drive most of the way, but we’ll have to walk thelast stretch.” He looked down at her boots. “Good thing you’re wearing those. You’ll need them.”

Erin didn’t say anything, just climbed into the Jeep, wondering how in the world she’d gotten herself into this situation. She could feel the beads of perspiration on her forehead and tried to remind herself that she was safe. She was with a police chief, in his vehicle, and he would watch out for her. Still, the farther they drove from the cabin, the more uncomfortable she became. She made fists, digging her nails into her palms, trying to stay calm. She had no desire to come apart in front of this man.

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