Page 21 of Moonlit Hideaway
Beads of sweat formed on Sierra’s forehead, and she hoped the sheriff didn’t notice—but of course, she did. She produced a pack of Kleenex from her pocket and asked Mabel, “Is there a place I can speak to Jane in private? Or would you like to come down to the station?”
“You can use our office,” Mabel supplied quickly. “Jane’s our guest, and we feel horrible this happened on our property.”
Mabel opened the door to a cramped office stuffed with paperwork on every surface and left them there.
Ruth sat behind the desk and gestured for Sierra to take the rocking chair.
“First of all, I’d like you to know I’m here to help,” Ruth began. “Hank didn’t give me details about you or where you came from, but I ran the plates on your vehicle, and they’re registered to a Murray Littlejohn of Little Creek, West Virginia. Are you a friend of his or a relative?”
“Neither, but I didn’t steal the truck. I paid cash for it. Two thousand bucks.”
“I take it the guns inside aren’t registered to you either?”
“No, ma’am. They came with the truck.”
“Okay then, let’s go over the items that are missing. I’ve already called the ferry station, and they will be checking the driver’s license of everyone leaving the island today. While we can’t inspect any vehicles, we hope the word will get around and the thieves stay put. I’ll need a detailed description of what’s missing. Hank mentioned a guitar and several pieces of luggage in addition to the rifles and ammo box.”
“I don’t care if I get them back,” Sierra said. “I just want to leave the island.”
“I understand this must be difficult for you. Well then, I’ll need to see some identification before I go.”
“Is it necessary?”
Ruth’s eyes hardened like blue ice. “As you said, the truck is not registered in your name.”
Sierra knew better than to disobey a peace officer, so she passed over her driver’s license. Davis studied it, her eyes flicking between the ID card and Sierra. If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. “Okay, then, Miss Sierra Rayne. Do you have any reason to suspect someone might have followed you onto the island?”
“I honestly have no idea.” Her face flushed, and she glanced at the closed door, feeling claustrophobic in the cramped office.
“So, you’re here using an assumed name, Jane Dolan?” Ruth leaned back in her chair. “I get the feeling there’s a lot more to this story.”
“I didn’t commit a crime.”
“Didn’t say you did, but it’s my job to protect my community, and I need to know if you’re in danger.”
“I’m fine. May I go now?” Sierra felt like her back was against the wall. “Your community will be quite safe once I’m gone.”
“Fair enough, but let me be blunt.” The sheriff leaned forward in a way that suggested she’d block the door if Sierra were to bolt. “There’s the matter of the stolen goods. I’m a cop. I don’t believe what anyone tells me. For all I know, you had drugs in the luggage, and the beat-down truck was a prop. You come to my town with a fake name and a load of goods.”
“Is there anything wrong with taking a vacation incognito?” Sierra bristled at the cop’s wrong assumptions. “I’m trying to relax and do some songwriting. Escape the limelight. Personal reasons. I’d rather not have people find me here or anywhere else. Go ahead and investigate me. I don’t have a criminal record, and I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I understand wanting to keep a low profile.” Davis nodded slowly. “However, I need to know if there’s any immediate danger to you or our community.”
Sierra exhaled a shaky breath. "My publicist has canceled my tour. There won't be a missing person's report. I just need a place to stay hidden, just for a while."
The sheriff's gaze softened. “Very well, Miss Rayne. I’ll keep your identity secret. But Moonlit Harbor is a small place. Word gets around, and I can't control what others might say. If you’ll sign this report, I can file it and see what we come up with.”
“Okay, but I’d like to be known as Jane Dolan.”
Ruth pursed her lips, considering, before nodding. “Fair enough. I’ll keep your identity secret. But Moonlit Harbor is asmall place. Word gets around, and I can’t control what others might say. If you’ll sign this report, I can file it and see what we come up with.”
Sierra scrawled her signature messily. Without waiting for the sheriff, she opened the door and crashed into Hank, who was stepping behind the counter of the check-in desk.
“You okay?” His expression was both tense and concerned.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Sierra replied as Ruth put away her paperwork.
“Well, looks like we’re done here,” Sheriff Davis said. “You two let me know if you see anything else suspicious, and we’ll do our best to keep you safe.”
