Page 72 of One Night Years Ago

“Dislocated shoulder and probably something broken in his foot, but he’ll be okay.”

“It’s quite a jump,” Rob said, his voice tinged with respect. “Boss, if you say he didn’t do it, then I believe he didn’t do it.”

“Thank you, Rob. That means a lot to me.”

“There’s Susan. Now let’s see if we can find out what that bastard was doing here last night.”

Two hours later, the three of them had to concede defeat. There were no signs of the man, no possible reason he’d even brought Emma out here. As expected, any possible tracks had been washed clear by the storm.

But he didn’t know it would rain like that. It was a huge risk he was taking, getting me out here.

It was Rob who uttered the sentence she didn’t dare to.

“He didn’t rape her. For some reason, he called you. Before he raped her.”

“He told her she was old.” She watched Rob’s hands clench in anger, to the point where his nails must be digging into his flesh.

“When we catch him, I’m going to—”

“We’re going to arrest him, Rob. That’s what we’re going to do. He’s going to spend a lifetime in prison.”

But first we have to find him.

All the way back into town, she role-played her conversation with the mayor. Finally, she parked in the main square, right outside the town hall, though that might be too ambitious a word for the small, two-story house.

“Good morning, Sheryl. I’m here to see Mayor Hutchins,” Natalie told the secretary, knowing the mayor was right behind the single-panel door and could hear her perfectly from where he sat.

“Good afternoon, Sheriff, it’s already one p.m.,” the woman answered primly. Sheryl was slim and polished, one of those women who’d become more handsome with age. She dressed in the same classic style now, at age fifty-five, as she had when she was thirty but had somehow grown into the style. Same with her bright red locks, which were piled expertly on top of her head and held together with two pencils.

“Is the mayor out for lunch already?” Natalie asked. She hadn’t thought about that. She didn’t want to have to wait for an hour to speak to him.

“He’s still here. He has a late lunch planned. He’ll see you now,” Sheryl said kindly.

Natalie sighed in relief and steeled herself for the conversation with the mayor.

Mayor Hutchins was a sixty-year-old businessman who’d grown into the role of politician. His family owned land all around the state but had chosen to settle in Sharp’s Cove for generations. He’d been mayor for as long as she could remember and was popular enough that he would probably remain mayor until the day he died.

He smiled kindly at her as she walked in, but Natalie knew better than to fully relax. Speaking to the mayor sometimes felt to Natalie like maneuvering a tank around a minefield.

“Sheriff Bowmann, Natalie … I’m glad you’re okay. I hear you and Chief Deputy Hope did a great job last night. Well done.”

“Thank you, Mayor. I’ll let Rob know. We’re lucky nobody was seriously hurt.”

“And the young woman, the teacher, she’s okay?”

“Emma’s getting out of the hospital this afternoon.”

“Excellent. Thank you for informing me.”

“I saw him, Mayor. The man threw Emma off the cliff, right in front of me.”

“You didn’t recognize him? I’ve told you before, he might be from out of town.”

“Perhaps. But all his victims live here,” Natalie said stubbornly.

“What are you really here for, Sheriff?”

“I want to test Sharp’s Cove male residents against a DNA sample from my attack thirteen years ago.”