Mistaken Identity

“Aside from the things I already mentioned? No.”

“Then maybe I should clear things up for you. I have no intention of lying to you, of using you or of manipulating you.”

“I noticed you didn’t mention not arriving unexpectedly, not bringing chaos and not distracting me from my work.”

“I didn’t bring chaos, and—”

“Tell that to the guy who’s bleeding on the beach.”

“Was he shot?” she asked, hurrying along beside him.

“Yes.”

“Was he one of the guys who chased me through the woods?”

“I have no idea. He did have a gun.”

“Is he dead?”

“Not yet.”

“Is he going to die?”

“How about we play Twenty Questions after you talk to the sheriff?”

She’d rather ask the questions now, but she had the feeling she’d pushed Mason as far as he was willing to be pushed. Any more questions and he might shut her out completely. That would make it a lot more difficult to broach the subject of Henry again.

She pressed her lips together, sealing in a dozen more things she wanted to ask.

Let him have what he wanted—silence and peace.

For now.

They reached the beach and stepped off the trail, heading toward a group of people standing near the water’s edge. Several more people were kneeling beside a prone figure. A man. Trinity couldn’t see his face, but she could see the dark blood spreading beneath him. A lot of blood. Too much. If they didn’t get him to the hospital soon, he’d die. The tense silence of the crowd said they knew it.

Someone stepped away from the group, walking toward Trinity and Mason with a long brisk stride that reminded her of her Chance. Her oldest brother had a way of commanding attention without even trying. This guy seemed to do the same. He met her eyes as he approached.

“Ma’am,” he said. “I’m Sheriff Judah Dillon, Whisper Sheriff’s Department.”

“I’m Trinity Miller.”

“From Annapolis, Maryland,” he said. “We ran the plates on your Jeep. You want to tell me what brought you to Whisper?” he asked.

“I came to see Mason.”

“He says he doesn’t know you.”

“He doesn’t. I wanted to speak with him about a friend.” She glanced at Mason. He was watching her dispassionately and didn’t seem inclined to verify her story.

“I see,” the sheriff said.

It was obvious that he didn’t. He hadn’t asked enough questions to understand her motive, and it didn’t look like he was going to.

“Sheriff—” she began, but he raised a hand, cutting her off.

“I’ll have a deputy take you to the station. You can warm up there. I’ll take your statement when I finish here.”

“I’d rather not—”

Too late, he’d already motioned to a young-looking deputy who seemed eager to do whatever the sheriff wanted. What he wanted was to get Trinity out of the way.

“Get her some coffee and let her wait in my office. We’ll make a decision about pressing charges after I figure out what’s going on,” he said as the deputy took her arm and started leading her away.

“Charges? For what?” she protested, suddenly understanding something her nearly frozen brain hadn’t been able to process before. They thought she was a criminal, that she was someone connected to the guy who was lying on the ground bleeding.

“We’ll make that decision later,” the sheriff repeated, already turning away and walking back toward the fallen man.

“But, I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Ma’am,” the sheriff said, turning to face her again. “Trespassing is a misdemeanor offense. I don’t think I need to explain that to you.”

“But—”

He was moving again, and Mason was walking with him, the two of them talking quietly, probably discussing whatever trumped-up charges they planned to make.

Then again, she had trespassed. That wasn’t trumped up, and she couldn’t even say she wasn’t guilty if the sheriff decided to book her on the charges.

“This is all a mistake,” she said, but the deputy didn’t respond. He had his mission, and he seemed intent on it. Maybe he wanted to prove himself. He was young. Probably a couple of years younger than her. He couldn’t have been a deputy for long.

“It really is a mistake.” She tried again, and this time he did look at her, his dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

“It’ll all get sorted out. Right now, let’s just concentrate on getting you inside and warmed up.”

They’d reached the path, and she wanted to yank her arm from his, run back to Mason and the sheriff and explain herself.

But she thought that might cause more trouble than she already had, so she kept moving, stepping onto the path and glancing back.

Mason had stopped halfway to the crowd of people and had turned in her direction. His face was hidden in shadows, but she thought he might have been smiling.

* * *

Trinity looked like she was being led to the gallows, and she was eyeing Mason as if he were the reason for it. In point of fact, he was. He’d asked Judah to have her transported to the station. He hadn’t wanted to expend energy keeping an eye on her, and he was still uncertain of her status. She was either a criminal or an innocent bystander. Until he knew for sure which she was, he wasn’t giving her the opportunity to escape.

“You know I can’t hold her there for long, right?” Judah asked as Trinity and the deputy stepped onto the path and disappeared from view.

“You don’t need to hold her for any longer than it takes to get her statement. I just need her out of the way. I don’t want to deal with more chaos than I’ve already got.”

“You don’t have chaos. I do. It’s my town, my jurisdiction. My problem. I’ll take care of it. All you need to do is answer questions and stay out of the way.”