around to the door of her apartment. And to the flash of movement on that walk.
“Someone’s out there.” She grabbed Rachel’s arm, her heart thudding. He was back. The person who’d been in the apartment was back.
“Who? What?” Rachel followed her gaze. “I don’t see anyone.”
“Someone was there, by the apartment. I’m not imagining things, and I’ll prove it.” She thrust the quilt into Rachel’s arms and rushed toward the stairs.
FIVE
“I told you not to call him.” Caroline glanced from the police car that was bumping down the rutted lane to the barn to her sister.
Rachel looked guilty but determined. “If someone’s been prowling around your apartment, it’s a matter for the police. I know you had a bad experience—”
“That has nothing to do with it.” Rachel didn’t know just how bad that experience had been, and she had no intention of telling her. “I suppose it won’t hurt to talk to the man, but there’s nothing he can do.”
Zach Burkhalter slid out of the police car, probably in time to hear what she said. Or, if not, he was quick enough to guess at the conversation based on their expressions. He came toward them with that deceptively casual-looking stride.
“You reported a prowler, Rachel?” He glanced from Rachel to her, as if measuring their responses.
“My sister was the one who saw him. She’ll tell you all about it.” Rachel turned away, as if leaving.
“Wait a minute.” Caro grabbed her arm. She was the one who’d called the man. At least she could stick around for moral support. “You’re not going.”
Rachel pulled free. “I’d better get back to the house and tell Grams everything is okay. Unless you want to have her out here, that is?”
“Of course not.” That was hardly something she could argue, but her sister was going to hear about this later.
“Just tell Zach what you saw. You can trust him. He’s one of the good guys.” Rachel turned and hurried off around the corner of the barn toward the house.
Caro glanced at the police chief, catching a bemused expression on his face. “You look surprised. Didn’t you know my sister thought that about you?”
He shrugged. “Plenty of people don’t have good opinions of cops. Like you.”
The words dismayed her. Was she really that obvious? “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Ms. Hampton, I suspect you’d be about as happy to see a snake on your doorstep as to see me. But your sister called me to report a prowler, so I’m here.”
She would definitely pay Rachel back for this one. “You’d better come in, but I don’t know what you can do.”
“Why don’t you let me figure that one out.”
He followed her inside, and the apartment immediately felt smaller than it should. A police chief, even one in a place as small as Churchville, probably found that air of command useful. She just found it unsettling.
She gestured toward the leather couch and sat down opposite him on the bentwood rocker. “There isn’t much to tell. Rachel and I were up in the attic of the house, and I glanced out the window. I hadn’t realized that you could see the barn clearly from that height. I saw—”
She hesitated. Had she seen enough to be sure?
“Go ahead.” He leaned forward. “Just tell it the way you saw it, without second-guessing.”
She nodded. That was exactly what she’d been doing. “I could see the end of the walk that leads to the apartment door. I had a quick glimpse of a figure heading toward the door, but he was out of sight almost before it registered.”
“Male?”
She closed her eyes, visualizing. “I said ‘he’ but I’m not sure. It was just an impression of a human figure, probably male, wearing something dark—maybe a jacket.”
The face of the man in the plaza came back to her. He’d worn a denim jacket. Would that have looked dark from a distance?
“Did you see anything else? A vehicle, maybe?”
“No. I ran down the stairs, hoping I could get a
“Someone’s out there.” She grabbed Rachel’s arm, her heart thudding. He was back. The person who’d been in the apartment was back.
“Who? What?” Rachel followed her gaze. “I don’t see anyone.”
“Someone was there, by the apartment. I’m not imagining things, and I’ll prove it.” She thrust the quilt into Rachel’s arms and rushed toward the stairs.
FIVE
“I told you not to call him.” Caroline glanced from the police car that was bumping down the rutted lane to the barn to her sister.
Rachel looked guilty but determined. “If someone’s been prowling around your apartment, it’s a matter for the police. I know you had a bad experience—”
“That has nothing to do with it.” Rachel didn’t know just how bad that experience had been, and she had no intention of telling her. “I suppose it won’t hurt to talk to the man, but there’s nothing he can do.”
Zach Burkhalter slid out of the police car, probably in time to hear what she said. Or, if not, he was quick enough to guess at the conversation based on their expressions. He came toward them with that deceptively casual-looking stride.
“You reported a prowler, Rachel?” He glanced from Rachel to her, as if measuring their responses.
“My sister was the one who saw him. She’ll tell you all about it.” Rachel turned away, as if leaving.
“Wait a minute.” Caro grabbed her arm. She was the one who’d called the man. At least she could stick around for moral support. “You’re not going.”
Rachel pulled free. “I’d better get back to the house and tell Grams everything is okay. Unless you want to have her out here, that is?”
“Of course not.” That was hardly something she could argue, but her sister was going to hear about this later.
“Just tell Zach what you saw. You can trust him. He’s one of the good guys.” Rachel turned and hurried off around the corner of the barn toward the house.
Caro glanced at the police chief, catching a bemused expression on his face. “You look surprised. Didn’t you know my sister thought that about you?”
He shrugged. “Plenty of people don’t have good opinions of cops. Like you.”
The words dismayed her. Was she really that obvious? “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Ms. Hampton, I suspect you’d be about as happy to see a snake on your doorstep as to see me. But your sister called me to report a prowler, so I’m here.”
She would definitely pay Rachel back for this one. “You’d better come in, but I don’t know what you can do.”
“Why don’t you let me figure that one out.”
He followed her inside, and the apartment immediately felt smaller than it should. A police chief, even one in a place as small as Churchville, probably found that air of command useful. She just found it unsettling.
She gestured toward the leather couch and sat down opposite him on the bentwood rocker. “There isn’t much to tell. Rachel and I were up in the attic of the house, and I glanced out the window. I hadn’t realized that you could see the barn clearly from that height. I saw—”
She hesitated. Had she seen enough to be sure?
“Go ahead.” He leaned forward. “Just tell it the way you saw it, without second-guessing.”
She nodded. That was exactly what she’d been doing. “I could see the end of the walk that leads to the apartment door. I had a quick glimpse of a figure heading toward the door, but he was out of sight almost before it registered.”
“Male?”
She closed her eyes, visualizing. “I said ‘he’ but I’m not sure. It was just an impression of a human figure, probably male, wearing something dark—maybe a jacket.”
The face of the man in the plaza came back to her. He’d worn a denim jacket. Would that have looked dark from a distance?
“Did you see anything else? A vehicle, maybe?”
“No. I ran down the stairs, hoping I could get a
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