Scene Of The Crime: The Deputy's Proof

He counted at least seven branches of darkened tunnels by the time they reached the end of the main one. Plank steps led upward. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other as they’d travelled forward.

He’d been too amazed by the subterranean world he’d been introduced to by Savannah. Where did the other tunnels lead? How big was the network? Who knew about it besides Savannah?

He was fairly sure the answer to the question was that nobody except Savannah and now him knew about the underground network. Otherwise he would have heard about it before now. Lost Lagoon was a small town, and a secret this big would have been revealed.

He followed her up the plank steps that led them next to a large cypress tree surrounded by thick brush. The ground was spongy beneath his feet, although not wet enough to cover his shoes. There was nobody in the area, and he was glad that nobody was around to see them ascend from the ground.

Directly in front of them was the swath of land where Shelly’s “ghost” walked. He looked at Savannah, whose features were void of emotion. “So, you walk across here and then what? How do you get back to this same entrance to get back home?”

“I don’t. On the other side of the path is a hidden cave that leads back to the tunnel we were just in.” She didn’t wait for his response but quickly walked across the path that was her “stage” on nights she performed her ghost routine.

Josh hurried after her, his mind still reeling from where he’d been and what he’d seen. When they reached the other side, he followed her up a small hill through thick woods.

She stopped and pulled a tangle of vines and brush aside to reveal the mouth of a cave. Once again a sense of shock swept through him.

He’d been a deputy in Lost Lagoon for the past ten years. He’d moved to the small town from Georgia when he was twenty-one to take the position of deputy. Ten years and he hadn’t heard a whisper of the presence of the underground network.

He followed her into the mouth of the cave and found himself again in a tunnel that merged into the one they’d used from Savannah’s backyard.

They were silent as they returned the way they had come. The initial excitement and surprise of what he’d seen had passed. Instead he was acutely attuned to the air of defeat that emanated from Savannah while she walked slowly in front of him.

He dreaded the conversation to come. There was no way he could keep this information to himself. Who knew what might be found in the other tunnels? Who knew where they led? It was a historical find that should be made public to the appropriate authorities.

What surprised him was that Savannah had possessed the nerve to go down there and explore on her own. It must have been frightening the first time she’d decided to drop down that hole and follow the tunnel.

When they came back up in her backyard, the July sun and humidity were relentless. He hadn’t realized how much cooler the tunnels had been until now.

“Come on inside and I’ll get us something cold to drink,” she said without enthusiasm.

It wasn’t the best invitation he’d ever gotten from a woman, but he was hot and thirsty, and they weren’t finished with their business yet.

Once inside, he sat in the same chair at the table where he’d sat the night before. She went to the cabinet and pulled down two glasses.

She turned to look at him, her eyes dull and lifeless. “Sweet tea okay?”

“Anything cold is fine,” he replied.

She opened the refrigerator and poured the tea. She then carried the glasses to the table and sat across from him. Her eyes were now dark pools of aching sadness, so aching that he couldn’t stand to look at them.

He took a sip of the cold tea and then stared down into the glass. “You know I can’t keep this a secret,” he finally said.

“I know you can’t keep it a secret forever,” she replied.

He gazed at her, and this time in her eyes he saw a tiny spark of life, of hope. He steeled himself for the argument he had a feeling was about to happen.

God, it just took that single spark in her eyes for him to remember the woman she’d been, and he couldn’t help the swift curl of heat that warmed his belly. It was a heat of the visceral attraction he’d forgotten had once existed where she was concerned.

“Give me one more night,” she said. “Just let me have one more walk before you tell anyone about the tunnels.” She leaned forward, her eyes now positively glowing with focus. “One final walk, Josh. At least let me have that before it all blows up.”

“Savannah...”

“Those tunnels have been a secret for who knows how long,” she said, interrupting him. “Can’t you just keep them a secret for another week or so?”

He told himself it was too big, that he should report on what he’d found out immediately. He sat up straighter in his chair, determined to do the right thing, and then she surprised him. She reached across the table and covered one of his hands with hers.

“Please, Josh, all I’m asking for is a week. I can do a final ghost walk next Friday night, and then you can tell whoever you want about the tunnels.”

Her hand was warm, almost fevered over his, and for just a moment, as he stared into the dark pools of her eyes, he forgot what they’d been talking about.

He mentally shook himself and pulled his hand from beneath hers. Duty battled with the desire to do something for her, something to make up for letting her down two years before when he should have chosen real justice over his job.

He took another drink of tea and then stood. He needed to think, and at the moment he was finding it difficult to think rationally.

“I assume you’re working your usual shift tonight at the inn?” He moved toward the back door. He needed to get away from her winsome eyes, the floral scent of her that filled his head.

“Eleven to seven,” she replied. “Why?”

“I need to think about everything. I won’t say anything to anyone today, and I’ll stop by the Pirate’s Inn tonight sometime during my shift and let you know what I’ve decided to do.”

She opened her mouth as if to make one more plea, but closed it and nodded. “Then I guess I’ll see you sometime tonight.”

He left her house and walked around to his car. No patrol car today, just a nice red convertible sports car that most women would definitely consider a boy toy.

He’d bought the car a year ago, and the day he signed the ownership papers, his head had been filled with the memory of his twin brother, Jacob.

When the two boys had been growing up, they’d dreamed of owning a car like this...flashy and fast and nothing like the old family car their parents had driven. That old car had been held together by string and hope because new cars cost money the Griffin family didn’t have.

Driving to his house, he once again thought about the surprising discovery of the tunnels. The presence of them had been such a shock. Had they been made by pirates who were rumored to have used the Lost Lagoon town as a base camp? Would there be treasures and artifacts in one of those passageways that would identify who had made them and why?

It was much easier to think about the tunnels than about the woman he’d just left. But thoughts of Savannah intruded. Of the two sisters, he’d always thought she was the prettiest. She was softer, a little bit shyer than Shelly, but she’d drawn Josh to her.

She’d had a smile that lit up her face and made it impossible not to smile back at her. He wondered if she had smiled at all in the last two years.

He pulled into the driveway of his three-bedroom ranch house. He’d bought the house when it was just a shell and had added amenities like an extra-long whirlpool tub for a tall man to relax in and a walkout door from the bedroom to a private patio. He’d also put in all the bells and whistles in the kitchen area. He’d been told by the builder that it would be good for resale value.

The cost of living in Lost Lagoon was relatively low, and his salary was good, as few lawmen would choose to spend their careers in a small swamp town.

When he got inside, he sat at his kitchen table with a bottle of cold beer, and once again his head filled with visions of Savannah.

One week. That was all she’d asked for. Just seven days. But was it even right for him to indulge her in one more ghost walk? Wasn’t it better just to end it all now and hope that she got some sort of help for the grief that had obviously held her in its grip for far too long?

And what if Sheriff Trey Walker found out that he’d known about the tunnels and hadn’t come forward immediately? Trey was a tough guy who demanded 100 percent loyalty from his men. Would Josh be putting his job on the line to give Savannah what she’d asked for?

He took a long sip of his beer and reviewed his options—none of which he liked.

Chapter Three (#ulink_ad9c4f75-af1d-593e-a4d9-af3ce52dbe12)

Savannah stood behind the reception desk in the large quiet lobby of the Pirate’s Inn. The inn had two stories, and the centerpiece of the lobby was a huge, tacky treasure chest that the inn’s owner, Donnie Albright, had been repainting for the last couple of weeks.