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Hunt for a Hometown Killer

By Mary Dodge Allen

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CHAPTER 1

Riverside Bay, Florida, Thursday

Roxy Silva breathed out a relieved sigh as she finished the last delivery on her mail route. She was looking forward to going home and cranking the air-conditioning down to the sub-zero range. It had been a difficult day—the second anniversary of her husband’s unsolved murder. And for the past several hours, while delivering mail in the scorching June heat, Roxy couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that the person who killed Vance was still out there, somewhere.

She brushed strands of damp hair off her forehead as she walked back to her mail truck, parked near the huge retention pond at the end of Dolphin Lane. Sunlight shimmered on the pond’s rippled surface, highlighting a strange patch of swirling water a few feet offshore. The whirlpool’s funnel shape reminded her of water circling around a bathtub drain.

“Hello there, Rox!” Mae Sims waved to her from the sidewalk bordering the pond. The elderly woman was pushing a pink baby stroller, and her small poodle was riding in the stroller seat, as usual. Mae stopped under the shade of a tall laurel oak and held up a plastic Cool Whip container. “I baked sugar cookies today. Want to try one?”

Roxy hesitated. Her thoughts flashed back to last year’s church bake sale, when Mae’s banana bread sent several people to the ER. “Thanks... but I can’t, right now. I’m running late, and I need to get back to the post office.” Roxy gave the woman a smile and a quick wave.

As she unlocked the truck’s driver’s door, a loud rumbling sound rang out. The pavement beneath her feet began vibrating. A towering geyser erupted from the whirlpool near shore, spraying her skin with cool droplets, like a misty rain.

Mae let out a panicked scream as chunks of the pond’s grassy shoreline slid into the convulsing water. The laurel oak nearby cracked and splintered as it toppled over, creating a massive splash.

Roxy broke into an icy sweat. “Mae! Get away from there!” She threw down her shoulder bag and ran toward the petite woman.

Mae visibly trembled as she stood on the cracked sidewalk next to the oak’s gigantic root ball, which was still clinging to the soil at the edge of the steep muddy bank. Water dripped from her short gray hair as she stared into the hole.

“Mae! Come with me—”

“No!” She shook her head and let out a sob. “Not without Trixie! She’s stuck in that tree!”

Roxy looked down. The pink stroller bobbed in the swirling water near the fallen oak. Something sparkled like diamonds in the oak’s leafy branches—Trixie’s rhinestone-studded harness. The tiny poodle sat wedged between two thick limbs, just out of reach. The dog’s high-pitched whimpering was barely audible over the rushing sound of the turbulent water. Roxy turned to Mae. “If you leave with me right now, I’ll come back and help Trixie. I promise!” She guided the frail woman to the spot where she’d discarded her mail bag. “Stay here, okay?”

Mae nodded. Her wrinkled face wore a dazed expression.

Roxy ran back and stood next to the huge mass of tangled roots and soil. She took a deep breath as she gripped a thick, dirt-caked tree root with her sweaty left hand and stepped off the sidewalk’s broken concrete. Her steel-toe athletic shoes sank into the damp, unstable dirt. Roxy tightened her grip on the root as she leaned down and stretched out her right arm toward Trixie. She gently slid her fingers under the sparkling harness and felt the poodle’s rapid heartbeat beneath her soft fur. “It’s okay, girl. I’ve got you.” Twigs snapped as she freed the tiny dog.

The dirt under Roxy’s feet abruptly shifted, and she lost her grip on the tree root. She held the small dog in the crook of her right arm as she slid downward. Branches scraped her left arm as her hip slammed against the trunk. She realized she was pinned against the limbs that had held Trixie.

Adrenaline surged. Roxy’s heartbeat accelerated as she grabbed a thick branch with her free hand. Using all her strength, she pulled herself up the slippery dirt wall and scrambled over the crumbling sidewalk. She ran toward Mae and picked up her shoulder bag before escorting the frantic woman further away from the sinkhole. When Roxy finally stopped, she was gasping for breath and trembling almost as much as the poodle in her arms.

Mae reached for Trixie and cradled her tiny dog like a baby. Tears formed in her eyes as she tenderly plucked stray twigs and leaves from Trixie’s dirty white fur. “She doesn’t look injured, but I’d better take her to the vet to make sure.” Mae looked up. Her lips quivered as she said, “Thank you.”

Roxy nodded and smiled, still too out of breath to speak. She heard the sound of voices and turned. Residents had gathered in the street, several feet away. She knew all of them well, since they had been on her mail route for years. A few waved to her, but most of them wore shocked expressions as they stared at the sinkhole. Mae hurried over and joined her neighbors.

The ground shook again. Roxy turned back to the pond and let out a sharp cry as the oak’s root ball slid out of sight, along with the cracked sidewalk. The pavement under her mail truck’s front tires disappeared. The truck slid forward and abruptly stopped. Its rear tires gripped the edge of the hole.

“Someone needs to call the police!”

Roxy startled, as if she’d been awakened from a trance. With shaking hands, she reached into the torn pocket of her postal uniform shorts and pulled out her phone. She hesitated when she saw the spider web of cracks, and then she whispered a quick prayer as she double-tapped the damaged screen. Relief surged when her phone lit up. She pressed a familiar speed dial number. When Kyle answered, she blurted, “A sinkhole opened up in Riverside Bay Estates! You need to send officers out here! My mail truck slid into the hole, and it’s caught on the edge—”

“Rox! Are you inside the truck?” Kyle sounded panicked.

“No... I’m okay. Sorry, I should have told you that first.” She blew out a shaky sigh, as her heartbeat thundered like a jackhammer.

“Is anyone hurt?”

“No... at least I don’t think so. But my mail truck fell halfway inside the sinkhole. You need to send a tow truck.”

“Where exactly did the hole open up?”

“In that huge retention pond at the end of Dolphin Lane. Part of the shoreline is gone, but the sinkhole isn’t near any homes, yet. The water level has gone way down.” She stopped, as something on the opposite shore caught her attention. “Kyle! You need to send another tow truck! I see a black car stuck in the muddy bank across the pond, near the entrance to the wildlife refuge—” Her words caught in her throat as she made the connection. Two years ago, a witness saw a black Mercedes sedan speeding away from the scene of her husband’s fatal hit and run.

“Is it a Mercedes, Rox?”

“I don’t know. The front of the car is still underwater... but it’s definitely a black sedan.”

“We’re on our way,” Kyle said.

Roxy’s hands were still shaking as she made a second phone call to Mack, the manager of the Riverside Bay Post Office. She quickly described how the sinkhole had opened up and partially-swallowed her mail truck. “It happened right after I finished my last delivery, so there’s no mail in the truck. I put all the outgoing mail I collected inside my shoulder bag.” She assured him she wasn’t injured and told him a tow truck was on its way. After she ended the call, she looked across the pond and stared at the black sedan. A cold shiver slid down her spine as she thought about Vance’s murder.

“There you are, Rox! Am I ever glad you’re not inside that mail truck!”

Roxy turned and saw her cousin Jo Marshall hurrying toward her, carrying a red first-aid kit. Her green nursing scrubs were cinched at her slender waist, and strands of her blonde hair had come loose from her topknot.

“Jo, how did you find out about—”

“Kyle called the Clinic, and I rushed over.” Jo’s blue eyes opened wide. “Rox, your left arm is all scraped up, and you’re bleeding.”

Roxy glanced down at the red stream leaking from the gash in her upper arm, just below the sleeve of her postal uniform shirt. Blood. The sight of it triggered a wave of nausea. She became aware of a throbbing pain as she swayed on her feet.

“Come over here and sit down, so I can examine you.” Jo guided her to the curb and sat next to her.

Roxy cried out as Jo probed the wound on her arm.

“This cut looks deep, Rox. I’ll close it with stitch strips, but I’m sure it needs stitching. Charlie’s on duty at the Clinic this afternoon, so he can do it.”

Roxy sighed. She’d worked for hours in the scorching heat, and she’d almost fallen into a sinkhole. Now she needed stitches. She glanced at her damaged mail truck and wondered if the day could get any worse. She yanked off the elastic band securing her ponytail. As she finger combed her long wavy hair, she felt sharp bits in the tangles. Shards of tree bark and crushed leaves clung to her hand.

“Sit still,” Jo said, as she began cleaning the wounds with sterile wipes.

Roxy winced. It felt as if Jo had plunged hot wires into her left arm. She glanced up when she heard the rumbling of approaching vehicles. The crowd in the street separated like waves in the Red Sea, clearing a path for two Riverside Bay police cruisers. They parked at the curb.

Kyle Ransom and Sam Boney got out of the first cruiser. Both detectives were dressed in the typical summer uniform, light blue police polo shirts and dark trousers. Their detective shields were clipped to their belts, next to their holsters. Kyle glanced at Roxy and gave her a nod. His gaze lingered for a long moment.

Three officers in dark blue uniforms emerged from the second cruiser. One of them began herding the onlookers further away from the sinkhole. The other two retrieved a stack of orange cones and a roll of yellow caution tape from the trunk. The detectives walked with the officers as they placed the cones and yellow tape around the sinkhole perimeter.

Kyle turned and caught Roxy looking at him. His handsome face relaxed into a grin. He pointed to her truck, perched at the edge of the sinkhole. “I guess it’s safe to say you’ve had a stressful day.”

She smiled and nodded.

Kyle walked over to Sam. After a short conversation, they turned and headed toward her. Sam’s compact body sported a middle- aged paunch at the waistline, and his longish dark hair curled over his ears. At six three, Kyle’s athletic body towered over Sam, and his thick brown hair held light sun streaks, thanks to his love of boating and fishing.

“Rox, you didn’t tell me you were hurt,” Kyle said.

Sam wore a cynical grin. “Looks like you fell in that sinkhole.”

“She almost did, Sam!” Claudia Silva-Gardner strode up, looking like a willowy fashion model in a sleeveless dress and high-heeled sandals. Straight black hair fell to her shoulders, framing her attractive face, which bore a strong resemblance to her brother, Vance. She turned to Roxy. “You almost fell inside that sinkhole when you rescued Mae’s dog, didn’t you?”

Roxy glanced up at her sister-in-law. “That’s not what hap—”

“Yes, it is!” Claudia put her hands on her hips. “Mae’s been telling everyone how you jumped inside that sinkhole and rescued her dog from a fallen tree. She said you slipped and fell and barely got out of there before that tree slid out of sight!”

Kyle and Sam exchanged stunned glances.

Jo stopped working and stared at Roxy.

Claudia frowned. “I can’t believe you risked your life to save a poodle!”

Roxy tensed. “I didn’t jump into that sinkhole! Trixie was stuck in the branches, within arm’s reach. I couldn’t just leave her there. I kept thinking about how I’d feel if Buddy was caught in that tree.”

Sam shook his head. “Rox, it’s hard to imagine your big golden retriever stuck in a fallen tree.”

A ringtone sounded. Kyle retrieved his phone and glanced at the screen. He walked away as he answered the call and waved at Sam to follow him.

“Oh! That reminds me...” Claudia pulled her phone from her designer purse. The words Riverside Bay Realty were engraved in gold on the phone’s shiny black case. “I need to tell dad you’re okay. He’s still in Tallahassee at that realty conference. I called him when I heard about the sinkhole, and he got worried when he found out your mail truck was involved.” She paused, and her features softened. “I was worried about you, too. That’s why I got so upset when I found out about Trixie.”

Roxy smiled at Claudia, and her tension eased. She had always been close to Vance’s family. She barely remembered her mother and father. They were killed in a head-on collision when she was six. Roxy survived with minor injuries, and she was raised by her aunt and uncle—Jo’s parents.

Claudia aimed her phone at the sinkhole area and snapped a photo. “Dad’s never going to believe this. Before I call him, I’ll text a picture of your mail truck.” As her fingers tapped on the screen, she breathed out an exaggerated sigh. “I’ve been working hard to sell a gorgeous house on Blue Marlin Lane, two blocks away. This sinkhole is going to drag down the value of every property in Riverside Bay Estates.”

“What a tragedy,” Jo muttered.

Roxy gave Jo an elbow nudge and glanced up. Claudia had already turned away to make the call. Kyle stood nearby, with his phone still pressed to his ear. His deep voice mingled with Claudia’s higher-pitched nasal tone.

A police cruiser pulled away from the curb and made a quick U-turn. Roxy recognized Sam behind the wheel. She glanced at the growing crowd and caught sight of Vance’s cousin, talking to one of the uniformed police officers. Burke Devlin was easy to spot for two reasons; he was the only person dressed like a lawyer, and he bore an eerie resemblance to Vance. The two men had often been mistaken for brothers because of their remarkably similar Latin good looks.

“Okay, Rox. I’ve finished applying the stitch strips.” Jo closed the first aid kit. “You’re lucky. That cut on your arm is the only one that needs stitching. Since nobody else appears to be injured, I’ll drive you to the Clinic.”

Roxy slid the elastic band off her wrist and then flinched as she tried to lift both arms to gather her hair into a ponytail.

Jo smiled. “Let me do that for you. Remember when we used to fix each other’s hair when we were growing up?” She quickly formed Roxy’s hair into a ponytail and secured it with the band. “When was your last tetanus shot, Rox?”

“I don’t know.”

Jo stood and helped Roxy to her feet. “You’ll need to get one, then.”

Roxy sighed. The day just got a little bit worse.

Claudia tucked her phone back into her purse and looked at Roxy. “Dad’s leaving the conference early. He’s flying back tonight.” She glanced at Kyle as he rejoined them.

“The tow trucks are on their way,” Kyle said. “Sam drove to the guard shack at the gated entrance to wait for them. He’ll send the first truck here, and then he’ll escort the second truck to that black sedan near the wildlife refuge.”

“What black sedan?” Claudia asked.

“It’s over there, across the pond—” Roxy gasped when she saw how low the water level had dropped. The sedan’s shattered windshield, crumpled hood and mangled front grill were now visible, proof of a violent impact. A knifelike pain shot through her heart. Tears stung her eyes as she pictured Vance’s smile on that last morning, just before he kissed her good-bye.

“It’s Greta’s Mercedes!” Claudia let out a choked sob and turned to Roxy. They reached out and hugged each other.

After a long moment, Roxy felt a hand resting on her shoulder. She looked up at Kyle through blurred eyes. He stood close, with his other hand resting on Claudia’s shoulder. Roxy blinked to clear her vision and read the grief in Kyle’s sky-blue eyes. He and Vance had been best friends since childhood.

Kyle lifted his hand from her shoulder and pulled a folded white cloth from his back pocket.

“Thanks.” Roxy dabbed her eyes as a hiccup escaped. “You’re the only person I know who carries an old-fashioned handkerchief.” “I usually carry two,” Kyle said. “They come in handy when I need to examine evidence and I don’t have gloves.”

Claudia looked up, sniffling. Her mascara had run, creating black smudges under her eyes.

Kyle handed his second handkerchief to her.

Roxy hiccupped again as she turned toward Jo, who was standing nearby. She wore a stunned expression, and she was biting her lower lip, something she always did when she was struggling to hold back tears.

Burke Devlin stood several feet away. His ashen face appeared frozen in shock. Two years ago, he narrowly missed being killed with his cousin Vance. Burke—the only witness— recognized Greta Wilder’s black Mercedes sedan as it sped away from the hit and run.

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