Innocent Target. Elisabeth Rees

blade in his hand to quickly cut the mooring rope. He then activated the motor and pushed it to maximum throttle, sending a wash of water cascading onto the pebbles along the shoreline. Ryan came to a halt and could do nothing but watch as the intruder made his escape over the glittering lake.

      Ryan holstered his weapon and walked back to Kitty, finding her sitting in the passenger seat of his truck, staring straight ahead, shock written across her face. He slid into the driver’s seat.

      “I’m Chief Deputy Ryan Lawrence from the sheriff’s office in Bethesda,” he said. “Are you Kitty Linklater?”

      She nodded.

      “I’m sorry to say that your intruder escaped across the lake,” he continued. “Can you tell me exactly what happened here?”

      Her voice shook with emotion. “Somebody is trying to kill me.”

      “Did he hurt you? Do you need medical attention?”

      “I’m not hurt,” Kitty replied. “At least not physically, anyway.”

      He studied her face. Her eyes were the darkest brown, a perfect match for her hair, and set in an exotic and striking face. It was a cliché, but she had movie-star looks, reminding him of a young Sophia Loren. Yet her clothes were anything but glamorous. She wore threadbare old jeans and an oversize shirt, both of which appeared to be torn from a scuffle or a fall.

      “Why do think that this man is trying to kill you?” he asked, flipping open his notepad. “Try to stay calm and tell me all the relevant details.”

      “I’ve been investigating the murder of Molly Thomas in an effort to prove that my father couldn’t possibly have done it,” she said. “And now that I’m getting closer to the truth, the real killer wants me dead.”

      He nodded silently, pushing down a sudden rush of anger. Murderers like Harry Linklater always denied their crimes. Ryan had seen it all before. The monster who’d killed his sister, Gina, when she was only nine years of age had protested his innocence for almost twenty years. Despite overwhelming forensic evidence against him, Cody Jones had repeatedly tried to appeal his conviction, with no success. It was only twelve months ago that Jones had finally admitted his guilt in the hope of securing a successful parole hearing. Men like this were liars, manipulators and tricksters. And Harry Linklater was no different.

      Ryan’s distaste must have shown on his face, giving his feelings away.

      “You don’t believe me, do you?” she said, a note of resignation in her voice. “You think my father’s guilty, just like the rest of this town does.”

      Ryan recalled being drafted from Lawton two years earlier to assist with the forensic sweep of the area where Molly had been found dead. He had arrived before the body was moved and it was a sight that would haunt him forever. Harry had attempted to burn Molly’s remains to destroy the evidence, but it wasn’t quite enough to cover his tracks.

      “It doesn’t much matter what I think,” he replied, reaching for a first aid box in the glove compartment. “Because a jury found your father guilty and he’s now serving his time. I’m not interested in protecting your father, Miss. Linklater. I’m interested in protecting you. So let’s stick to the facts of the matter, okay?”

      He took a wad of tissue from the first aid box and held it to her forehead, where a small cut was bleeding.

      “The fact of the matter is that this man wants me dead,” she said, taking the tissue from his hand and applying her own pressure instead. “Because he wants to hide the truth about Molly’s death. It’s proof that my dad is innocent.”

      Ryan didn’t buy this one bit. Proof involved actual evidence—evidence like traces of Molly’s blood on the seats of Harry’s car and his total lack of verifiable alibi. Harry was guilty. Everyone but Kitty knew it.

      She stared him down. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but I know I’m onto something, and when I finally prove that my father was wrongfully imprisoned, I’ll happily accept an apology from you, Chief Deputy Lawrence.”

      With the blood drying on her face and her eyes blazing, she had the appearance of a soldier straight from the battlefield. And he was quietly impressed by her resolve. But he had no desire to indulge her fantasies of her father’s victimhood. There was only one victim in this scenario and she was buried in Bethesda town cemetery.

      “I can promise you that I’ll thoroughly investigate this attack and do all I can to bring the perpetrator to justice,” he said, starting up the truck. “So why don’t we drive on down to your house, where I can take a full statement from you. Are you okay with that?”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Please call me Ryan. May I call you Kitty?”

      She shrugged, which he took to be an affirmative answer. Dark clouds had been gathering in the sky for hours and he heard the first distant rumble of thunder. There seemed to be electricity in the air, sparking an atmosphere inside the truck, building to an inevitable storm.

      * * *

      Kitty sat in the kitchen, checking her statement, while the new deputy thoroughly scanned the house and yard for any clues regarding the intruder’s identity. He walked into the kitchen with a solemn expression. The peals of thunder had intensified and a quick, sharp flash occasionally lit up the room.

      “Well, at least this storm should clear the air,” he said, sitting down at the table. “Are you happy with the statement?”

      She nodded while sliding it over to him.

      “Do you live alone?” he asked.

      “Yes.”

      “I noticed that you have a separate apartment here. I thought you might have a tenant, perhaps.”

      “I did,” she said. “But he decided to leave after some of the townsfolk told him he shouldn’t be associating with me.” She picked at a worn spot on the table with her fingernail. “I’m a social outcast, you see. Frank Price at the hardware store even started a petition to have me banned from Main Street.”

      “While I don’t approve of that kind of petition, the town has every right to object to your antics.”

      “My antics?” she questioned, folding her arms. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

      His green eyes rested on her face for a long time, impossible to read. His red hair and freckled skin gave him a boyish appearance, but those eyes were definitely grown-up and sensible.

      “Nobody wants to believe there could be a murderer in their family,” he said. “And I understand what you must be going through—”

      She put up her hand to cut him off. “Hold on a minute. How could you possibly understand what I’m going through?”

      “My sister was murdered by a stranger when she was only nine years old,” he said, his eye contact unwavering. “Being that close to such a brutal crime is tough. It never leaves you.”

      She bowed her head, a sour taste spreading in her mouth.

      “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m really sorry.”

      “The man who killed my sister is in prison serving a life sentence, so at least we got to see justice done.”

      Despite his efforts to sound fair and avoid condemning her, Kitty knew that, just like the rest of the townsfolk, he probably viewed her actions as pointless and misguided, the antics of a loyal daughter, brainwashed to trust her father wholeheartedly.

      “It’s good that you got to see justice done,” she said, deciding to be bold. “But justice hasn’t been served for Molly. Her killer is still out there.”

      She noticed the flare of his nostrils, the clench of his jaw, and she knew that she had correctly identified him as a disapprover. Ryan moistened his lips as a flash of lightning streaked across the sky behind him,