Page 6 of Marie's Hidden Refuge
Owen tracked more blood to the edge of the shallow river. The water barely skimmed the top of his ankles, giving him a clear view of the muddy bottom. Tinges of crimson speckled along the mud, turning to face North, until disappearing completely in the water.
Someone had tracked a lot of blood through the woods, but at least another dead body didn’t litter the shore.
“Would Bill go home if he were hurt or call for help?”
“Home if he had a choice. He doesn’t trust many people, especially here.”
“I need to walk a little further. You mentioned not knowing how long you ran last night. Where exactly is your house?” Owen had racked his brain since she’d mentioned her escape. His grandpa lived on the main road out of town, and his property ran along for miles.
If Marie had ran out of her house and straight into the woods and ended up in Lewis’ backyard, her house couldn’t be too far away. Which either meant her home sat on land she didn’t own, or she had run a lot further than he’d originally thought.
Marie shrugged. “I live a mile or so out of town. We’ve only been here about a month. I don’t even know the house number. But the house is surrounded by woods, not visible from the main road. I couldn’t have gone too far.”
Owen stepped carefully along the muddy banks. Dread settled in the pit of his stomach. Chances were Marie and Bill were squatting on his grandpa’s property. Trespassers often crossed the edges of the old man’s land, but his grandpa was too consumed with his own demons to care. Owen had tried to patrol the property and keep the woods clear, but he’d let that chore slip over the past few years.
Silence settled between him and Marie, the only sound the chattering of birds and scampering of critters among the trees. Owen kept his gaze on the ground and his ears tuned into anything that could clue him in to where Bill might be.
Time slipped by little by little and some of the tension fell from his shoulders. He might have a suspicious death to investigate and a missing person with a possible gunshot wound, but nothing calmed his frayed nerves like being in the quiet of nature. He could almost trick himself into believing he was enjoying a Monday morning stroll in the woods with a beautiful woman and even cuter baby.
A streak of blood ran up the hill, and Owen crouched beside it. Dried blood stained the mud and smeared a path up the hill. No body littered the ground, but a new trail led back up to what he assumed was Marie’s home. He followed the path like a bloodhound with a scent, glancing behind him to make sure Marie kept up on the steep incline.
At the top of the hill a clearing appeared, leaving enough space for a small house tucked deep within the trees. He had no doubt he stood on Sinclair property, and someone had the balls to not just pull a trailer on his grandpa’s land but build a house. Blood boiled in his veins, but he couldn’t dwell on that now. He needed to solve one problem at a time.
He nodded toward the tattered bungalow with brown siding. “Is this your house?”
Marie emerged from the thick foliage, her footsteps halting so she stood behind him as if she needed his protection from whatever they’d find. Her warmth against his back made his blood heat for a different reason. “Yes.”
Her breath tickled his neck, and he swallowed every inappropriate thought her nearness caused. “We need to look inside. Then we need to discuss why you and this guy are living on my grandfather’s land.”
3
Marie stood in the yard and studied the tattered curtains blocking the windows to the kitchen. She’d grown to despise this house over the last month. She didn’t mind the small rooms or the old appliances, it was the memories of abuse that made the bungalow depressing.
The distance from her sister and the isolation in the woods made her skin tingle with anxiety.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Bill rented this place from a buddy,” she said, finally answering his question.
She chanced a peek at Nora, and big, green eyes stared back at her. How could such a sweet, good-natured baby come from such a horrible situation? The constant tension and stress-filled atmosphere hadn’t affected her sweet nature.
Yet.
Which was why she needed to figure out how to help get Bill thrown in prison. So she could protect her Nora and give her the life she deserved.
The deputy glanced over his shoulder, and his expression stole her breath. The kindness had melted away. Now, in this space, his gaze was hard and cold. Facing forward again, he marched through the knee-high grass.
A sense of defeat engulfed her. Finally, she’d confided in someone, and now his suspicion of her changed his entire demeanor. She’d been a fool. His job was to find a man his grandpa shot, not protect a woman he didn’t know. She should have never let shock and fear open her mouth.
A twig snapped behind her, and she bolted for the protection of his tense body, staying no more than a step behind him. Anger radiated from him in waves, shimmering along with the humid air.
Owen stopped short, and she dodged, barely avoiding a collision.
Nora cried out, as if anticipating the being squished between them.
He gripped his moist hands against her biceps, and the smell of his sweat mixed with the coffee still on his breath. The top of her head barely came to his chin, and she lifted her face to meet his gaze. The hard set of his jaw tightened her gut, or maybe it was the way the gentle pressure of his fingertips caused all her nerve endings to combust. Either way, she’d wanted this man to help her, not accuse her of trespassing.
“My grandfather owns miles of land along the river, several north of his house.” He nodded toward her house but didn’t release his grip. “That puts this structure on his property.”
Marie swallowed hard. “There has to be an explanation. How could someone build a house with running water and electricity on someone else’s property without their knowledge or consent?” Skirting the law wasn’t beyond Bill, but logistics told her Owen had to be wrong.