Page 38 of Bound By Truth (An Island Bound Novel)

“I’m not sure.” Reed shook his head, stirring the sauce slowly. Then he looked up and met her eyes. She deserved the truth. “No, I don’t think he’s involved. They’ve turned his house upside down, and apart from the photos, there’re no other indications he’s ever taken his sick obsession any further than online. Of course, we’ve been checking the child sex-offense registry and this guy, Tom wasn’t on it. I wouldn’t be surprised if this case uncovers more people like him on the island. Hiding in plain sight, keeping their sick fantasies under wraps.”

“So, you’re saying there could be more pedophiles here on the island? Or murderers? You don’t still think Jessica just wandered off anymore, do you?”

Reed shook his head. “No, I don’t.” He didn’t add that he’d always had a bad feeling about this case, right from the very first phone call he received. He just hoped they’d followed all the correct procedures, done all due diligence where the investigation was concerned. For the little girl’s sake, as well as their own. Their reputations as police officers were on the line over this. “I think it’s the growing consensus among the other detectives as well.” And that was an understatement. Behind closed doors, they were scrambling. Calling in more experts, calling in favors to get lab results back quicker. Don looked like a walking zombie, with the lack of sleep and the high amounts of stress he was dealing with. Reed hoped the man could handle it. Don would still be at the station, poring over reports, looking for that proverbial needle in a haystack. Reed should be there too, but his priority had shifted after Sierra’s accident today.

“I checked on your car. It’s at the wreckers. Sorry, but they said it was a write-off.” He looked at Sierra beneath lowered brows. She grimaced, but didn’t seem too upset by the news.

“I kind of already knew that,” she admitted. “I saw the damage.”

“Sierra.” He waited until she looked at him, until he had her full attention, before he continued. “I had a good look at it. And I will wait till Fred from the wrecker confirms it. But I don’t think your accident was actually an accident.”

“I know.” She sat up straighter in the chair, and he saw her fingers tighten on the wine glass stem.

In two strides, he was around from behind the bench and crouching in front of her, ignoring the stab of pain as he knelt down. He grabbed her free hand with his. It was cold and he held it in both hands against his chest.

“I already came to the same conclusion. I saw how the right front wheel was hanging off. I checked the left one before you came and picked me up and it seemed really loose, too. And not in a way that would’ve been caused by the crash,” she said, voice shaky.

Her hand was small and delicate inside his. With his stomach resting up against her knees he was suddenly aware of their proximity. His body reacting before he could stop it, that tingling recognition spreading over his skin.

He had to say it. Had to warn her how much danger she might be in. “I don’t know if this is connected to those letters you’re getting, but I have a hunch it is.”

“You and your hunches,” she said, with a half-hearted smile. He didn’t respond. This was serious.

“But we also can’t discount anyone else at the moment, either.”

Sierra narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how well do you know your neighbors? You live in a pretty isolated spot. They’re the first people I’d be looking at.”

“You’re kidding.” He could tell by the glint in her eye she actually thought he was joking.

“No, I’m not, Sierra.”

“Well, that’s just ludicrous. I count Sam and Debbie amongst my dearest friends.”

“I know this sounds far-fetched, but in my experience, crimes, especially something as personal as this seems to be, can often be linked to the people closest to a victim.”

“No,” she breathed.

He plowed on, needing her to understand. “You must know yourself, after all your experience reporting on these things. Sometimes the sickest crimes are committed by the person you least suspect.”

“Are you saying that Sam might be a suspect?”

Personally, Reed didn’t believe he was. He’d only met him the once, but he prided himself on being able to take a person’s measure pretty quickly. He’d also learned the hard way, never to discount anything.

“I won’t believe that. He’s a good man. A kind man.”

“Okay,” he said, but in a tone that made it obvious he didn’t believe her. “What about your other neighbors?”

She turned her head to survey her glass of wine, her long ponytail swinging on her shoulder. “Terry is the only other person who stays out there regularly. But he’s harmless, a little weird, perhaps…” Her words trailed off as she considered this guy, Terry. Then her gaze came back to his, her face somber, lines of worry arching over her forehead. Good, now perhaps she was starting to get the picture. Until they found whoever it was who’d tampered with her car, everyone was a potential suspect.

“What?” he prompted.

“I wasn’t going say anything, but now you’ve mentioned it…” She stopped and bit her lip. Damn, he wished she wouldn’t do that. It was sending his mind to places he shouldn’t go right now.

“That guy out at the bone site yesterday. The ranger, Blake.”

He nodded. Here it came. The story he’d wanted to know.

---