Island of Deceit by Candice Poarch Page A

silence.
    â€œAny news on the woman found in the marsh?” Barbara asked.
    Harper shook his head. “They’ll be doing the autopsy soon, but the DNA results will take longer.”
    He wanted to pursue her decision further, but a reluctant witness wouldn’t make a good witness on the stand. Pick your battles.
    â€œI take it the relationship is off, or do you plan to give Andrew another chance?”
    She scoffed. “Are you kidding?”
    He leaned back in his chair. He’d caution any other woman, but Barbara wasn’t a novice. She was smart and she seemed to have a good reason for not pressing charges.
    â€œYou tell me,” Harper said. “You refused to press charges—why did you even call me?”
    â€œYou know why. And whatever we had has ended.”
    â€œGlad to hear that.” Harper turned a paperweight in his hand. “The last time we had murders on the island, against my better judgment, I decided to wait to pursue a relationship with you. But I’m not waiting this time.”
    â€œHarper, I’m not ready to start a new relationship.”
    â€œOne thing I’ve learned is to grab the opportunity when it’s presented. I don’t intend to let you slip away this time.” He stood. “But I understand you’ve been through an ordeal tonight. We can deal with us another day. I’ll see you home.”
    â€œThat’s not neces—”
    â€œFor my peace of mind,” he said, leading her out the door.

C HAPTER 3
    Back home, Barbara took aspirin for her headache, knowing it would only dull the pain. She then took a shower and warmed up some leftover chicken. She was exhausted. She’d had to squeeze in two extra people that day. Everyone was complaining because she now worked only three days one week and four the next. But she just didn’t have the time to work five days, nor did she have the inclination to do so.
    She looked at herself in the mirror and touched the tender area. Her face was still slightly swollen. She’d probably look like a blow-up clown in the morning. She got a package of frozen peas from the freezer and put it against her jaw. In her bedroom, she stretched out on her bed and watched CNN.
    Barbara closed her eyes, grateful it was Saturday. She’d planned to attend church in the morning. She couldn’t show up with a swollen jaw.
    Harper’s words made her uneasy. Now that Andrew was out of the picture, he considered himself in. And she had no intention of dating the local sheriff. He was just too much—too imposing, too demanding, too everything. She couldn’t lead him by the nose the way she did Andrew. Couldn’t tell him what to do and expect him to follow. That man was like a hound dog with his nose and ears to the ground.
    As much as she’d like to sample a relationship with him—Lord knew she’d had all kinds of fantasies about him—she couldn’t afford to have him sniffing in her business.
    Â 
    John and Harper attended the autopsy Tuesday morning.
    â€œDo you know the cause of death?” Harper asked.
    The pathologist squinted as she examined the body, her demeanor serious. Harper had worked with her several times in the past. He’d even considered asking her out for a date, but was glad he hadn’t.
    â€œShe has several stab wounds, but the wound in the back pierced the lung and killed her.”
    â€œWhat kind of knife?” Harper asked. Both John and Harper were taking notes even though they would get a report from the medical examiner’s office.
    â€œSomething sharp, long, and narrow, like an ice pick or a fishing gaff.”
    â€œWas she sexually assaulted?” Harper asked.
    â€œNo, no recent sexual activity; she wasn’t pregnant and she shows no signs of STDs.”
    So the boyfriend didn’t go crazy on her for giving him a sexual disease. The woman didn’t earn a mint.
    A special contact lens with an