Dark Water Rising Read online

  With her trademark emotional intensity and breakneck pacing, Sharon Sala returns with a harrowing story of danger, loyalty and the lengths we’ll go to protect the people we love most.

  Sam and Haley Quaid buried their ten-year-old son and then ended their marriage, all in one week. It wasn’t a volatile divorce, but three years later, except for trading Christmas cards, Sam and Haley have completely lost touch...until a dramatic weather report sets their paths on a collision course once more.

  Tropical Storm Gladys is heading straight toward coastal Texas, and locals are anxious as they prepare for potential devastation. Haley, a Realtor, has an appointment to show a property and is determined to keep it, but a hurricane isn’t the only looming danger: news reports talk of two prisoners who’ve escaped from a nearby penitentiary only a few miles from the house Haley’s headed for.

  When Sam’s phone rings with his ex-wife’s number, he immediately remembers the card he gave her when they parted on the courthouse steps. If you ever need me, call and I’ll be there. She hasn’t called in three years, and Sam is sure this can mean only one thing: Haley is in danger, and it’s up to him to save her.

  Praise for the novels of Sharon Sala

  “Drama literally invades the life of an A-list Hollywood star, and the race is on to catch a killer.”

  –RT Book Reviews on Life of Lies

  “A wonderful romance, thriller, and delightful book. [I] recommend this book as highly as I can.... Exciting...and will keep you glued to the pages until you reach the end.”

  –USATODAY.com’s Happy Ever After blog on Life of Lies

  “In Sala’s latest page-turner, staying alive is the biggest challenge of all. There are appealing characters to root for, and one slimy villain who needs to be stopped.”

  –RT Book Reviews on Race Against Time

  “[An] emotional thriller, packed with action, love, regrets, and criminal activity that will make your blood boil.... A phenomenal story.”

  –Fresh Fiction on Race Against Time

  “[T]he Youngblood family is a force to be reckoned with.... [W]atching this family gather around and protect its own is an uplifting tribute to familial love.”

  –RT Book Reviews on Family Sins

  “[A] soul-wrenching story of love, heartache, and murder that is practically impossible to put down.... If you love emotional tales of love, family, and justice, then look no further.... Sharon Sala has yet another winner on her hands.”

  –Fresh Fiction on Family Sins

  Also by Sharon Sala

  LIFE OF LIES

  RACE AGAINST TIME

  FAMILY SINS

  Secrets and Lies

  DARK HEARTS

  COLD HEARTS

  WILD HEARTS

  Forces of Nature

  GOING GONE

  GOING TWICE

  GOING ONCE

  Rebel Ridge

  ’TIL DEATH

  DON’T CRY FOR ME

  NEXT OF KIN

  The Searchers

  BLOOD TRAILS

  BLOOD STAINS

  BLOOD TIES

  Storm Front

  SWEPT ASIDE

  TORN APART

  BLOWN AWAY

  THE WARRIOR

  BAD PENNY

  THE HEALER

  CUT THROAT

  NINE LIVES

  THE CHOSEN

  MISSING

  WHIPPOORWILL

  ON THE EDGE “Capsized”

  DARK WATER

  OUT OF THE DARK

  SNOWFALL

  BUTTERFLY

  REMEMBER ME

  REUNION

  SWEET BABY

  Originally published as Dinah McCall

  THE RETURN

  Look for Sharon Sala’s next novel available soon from MIRA Books.

  Sharon Sala

  Dark Water Rising

  It is rare when life gives you a chance to undo a terrible mistake you once made, but when it happens, it doesn’t take long to realize how blessed you are.

  This book is about second chances and a forever kind of love. I know what that’s like. I lived it. Even now, after thirteen years without him, his love holds me steady on the hard days and fills my soul on the sad days, because forever never dies.

  I dedicate this book to the second-chance lovers who were brave enough to try it again.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  One

  Divorced.

  Haley Quaid couldn’t stop shaking from the sound of the word, and when Sam reached for her as they exited the courtroom, she leaned into his strength just as she had last week when they buried their son.

  Robbie had been battling leukemia for more than three years before finally going into remission. When he came out of remission again, the last-gasp treatment failed. Robbie knew what was coming and accepted it before his parents did. He was tired of fighting. He wanted to quit. He begged them to take him home to die, and so they did.

  For the next three weeks, the weaker their son became, the stronger and angrier Haley grew. She hated God. She hated herself. And she couldn’t look at Sam without seeing Robbie. People used to say when Robbie was born that Sam Quaid had cloned himself, and the older Robbie grew, the more obvious the resemblance became.

  Same black hair and blue eyes. Same jut to their chins. Same likes and dislikes in food. Now, with Robbie gone, all that was like a slap in the face to Haley. She already knew that she would never be able to look at Sam again without seeing their son, and that pain seemed impossible to bear. Her rage had carried her through the physical exhaustion of caring and then saying goodbye to her beloved son, but without him, the rage had transformed into a desperate grief—a feeling that was intensified every time she looked at Sam.

  She’d filed for divorce in a knee-jerk reaction to bury that grief, to take control of her unraveling life in the only way she could. Her solution was insane, but Haley was already there, so in her mind, leaving Sam would lessen the pain of loss.

  Sam was shocked. He’d just lost his son and now his wife wanted a divorce? It made no sense. He kept begging her to reconsider, but she hadn’t been able to think past the overwhelming need to make all this go away.

  Robbie’s death happened between one breath and the next. Haley had turned away to answer the phone when she heard the catch in Sam’s breath, heard him call her name. She’d turned around, but it was too late. She hadn’t been holding her boy. She hadn’t even been touching him, and now he was gone.

  How had that happened?

  She’d lived through nineteen hours of labor to bring him into this world, and he’d left it without her attendance, leaving her with enough pain to last a lifetime. All she remembered was Sam’s arms around her before everything went black.

  One day passed into the next as they went about the business of laying him to rest. Getting the court date for their divorce hearing came be
fore the flowers had wilted on the grave. Robbie was gone, and what was left of their marriage had died with him.

  And now that was over, too.

  The back of her throat was burning as Sam led her out of the courtroom. She needed to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. She’d used them up watching Robbie’s casket being lowered into the ground.

  * * *

  Haley was broken, both in heart and spirit, and Sam Quaid could not work miracles. He’d lost his son, and now he’d just lost his wife.

  The sun was in their eyes as they walked out of the Dallas County Courthouse and paused on the steps. He heard Haley take a deep breath and then she looked at him—really looked, something she hadn’t done in weeks.

  Haley saw his tears. She’d done that. Then he shook his head, as if in disbelief, and pulled her into his arms.

  He was shaking.

  She’d done that, too.

  She had to say something, but what? His pain was her fault.

  Before she could think what to do, he let her go and thrust something into the palm of her hand.

  “If you ever need me, for anything or any reason, call this number. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved, and that damn piece of paper in your purse changed nothing. I’ll always be here for you, Haley.”

  Her fingers curled around the card as she watched him turn away. His steps were slow, but as the distance lengthened between them, they gained momentum. Then he turned a corner and disappeared.

  She looked down at the card.

  Samuel Quaid—Private Investigations. The phone number was printed beneath his business name. The only link she would have left.

  Reality hit.

  He was gone.

  What have I done?

  Houston, Texas—Three years later

  Haley Quaid was getting ready to leave for work when her phone beeped. She glanced down, and when she realized it was the weather app with an update, she frowned. It was not good news.

  The storm path of Tropical Storm Gladys was still moving toward Houston and she was anxious about it. It would be the first hurricane she’d experienced since moving here, and if it weren’t for that showing at the Lawrence estate this morning, she wouldn’t even go into the office. But she made a living selling houses, and the Richards family was interested in a very large, very expensive property in the Energy Corridor in West Houston. They knew about the storm, but were set on the showing today. So as long as there was a potential buyer, she was on the job. She sent a text to the office, letting them know that, at the clients’ request, she was going directly to the property to meet with them there, and made a mental note to pick up a half-dozen blueberry muffins to take to the showing. Real food in a kitchen always gave it a homier touch, and she wanted to make this sale.

  A quick glance at the darkening sky tightened the knot in her gut, but she had an umbrella and a raincoat in the car, so she grabbed her purse and the tote bag she’d packed last night, and headed out the door.

  There was no such thing as a slow traffic day in the city, but Haley was adept at getting through it. After stopping at her neighborhood bakery to get the blueberry muffins, she headed for the west side of Houston, going over the key points of the property as she drove.

  About halfway there she passed by a car wreck, an all-too-common event on the massive expressways. As she passed, she saw men from a rescue unit pulling a young boy out of the back seat. He was crying, and she immediately thought of Robbie, and looked away.

  “God bless all those who are in need,” she said, and clenched her jaw, as if daring the world to hurt her again.

  She had exacerbated the heartbreak of losing her son by losing Sam, too, and it was her burden to bear. It had taken six months of counseling to feel human again, and that’s when the real pain hit. She’d had to face the fact that it was all her fault Sam was gone, and then figure out how to live with that decision. She didn’t have the guts to call him up and say she’d changed her mind. And she had no idea if he’d moved on, or if he was dating someone. Her solution had been to lose herself in her new profession and become a successful Realtor. It was days like this that kept her on the top-ten list with her company.

  She glanced at the sky again, eyeing the distant clouds of the tropical storm out over the water. She had plenty of time to do this and get home.

  A few minutes later, she exited the freeway and drove until she reached the neighborhood where the property was located. She loved coming into Thornwood. The amazing homes and beautifully manicured grounds were all indicative of the extremely wealthy people who lived here.

  When she finally reached the property and pulled up into the driveway, she smiled. It was a stunning, white two-story antebellum with four massive pillars spanning the front facade, and a pathway layered with redbrick pavers that led from the curb, straight across the lawn to the front door.

  It dawned on her, as she walked toward the property, that the owners had made no attempt to stormproof this house. Considering its value, she thought it was a careless thing to do.

  She pulled the key to the lockbox out of her purse, grabbed her tote bag and the box of muffins, and headed for the front door. All of the utilities were on, including the alarm, which she quickly disarmed as soon as she walked in. She carried everything into the kitchen, took a small glass plate from her tote bag and arranged the muffins on it, adding a small stack of napkins beside it.

  Last time she’d shown this house, she’d left a six-pack of water bottles in the refrigerator, and she was pleased to see they were still there. She pulled them out and left them beside the napkins, and then made a quick check of the downstairs, turning on lights as she went.

  As soon as she was finished, she headed up the stairs to turn those lights on, as well. Once she was satisfied she had everything ready, she went downstairs, plopped down in a chair near the window so she could watch for the Richards and began checking her messages.

  She returned two texts, made three calls, then pulled up the local news app. The first thing she read was a front page story about a van belonging to the US Marshals Service wrecking last night and catching on fire. The two prisoners they’d been transporting to a federal prison had escaped in the ensuing chaos and were still at large, one marshal was dead and another crippled for life.

  “Good grief,” Haley muttered, then scanned past that story, glanced at the time and kept reading.

  Outside, the wind was rising. She knew enough about hurricanes to remember that there were often heavy downpours before the storm made landfall. She went to the window, looking out for a sign of the Richardses’ white Lexus, then frowned. Surely they didn’t get lost. With GPS on both phones and cars, being lost was becoming a thing of the past. She was about ready to give them a call when her phone signaled a text.

  It was Patty Richards. Haley pulled up the message.

  So sorry. Family emergency in Phoenix. At the airport getting ready to take off. Call you when we get back.

  Haley sighed as she returned the text.

  No apology necessary. Safe travels. I’ll keep you all in my prayers.

  She hit Send, and then got up and began going through the rooms turning off lights. At least now she was certain to make it home before the storm. She boxed up the muffins and put the bottled water and plate back in her tote bag, then took it into the hall and left it on the table at the foot of the stairs while she ran up to the second floor to turn off those lights, as well.

  She was thinking about stopping at Whole Foods on her way home, but as she started down the stairs, she missed the first step, and turned her ankle on the next. Pain ripped up her leg as she screamed, and then she was falling, falling. One blow to a shoulder, another to the back of her head that popped her neck, toppling head over heels down more steps, until she went face-first into a balustrade and everything went black.

  * * *

  R
oy Wayne Baker and Hershel Arnold were still on the run when dawn broke over Houston, and Dude Santos was not a happy man.

  Alejandro, aka Dude, Santos, was the third man in their armored car heist, and after the initial robbery when they all made their getaway, they separated on purpose. They were to meet up later and divide the money. What he didn’t know was that Hershel and Roy had decided to go behind his back and kick Dude out of his cut. They’d made sure the money was well hidden, but less than two days later, and before Dude could meet up with them again, they were tracked down and arrested.

  Dude was pissed that they’d been caught, but when he found out that the money was not recovered with them, he wasn’t ready to quit looking for it.

  Months went by as they were held pending trial, and then attending the trial itself. Once they were finally sentenced and had been remanded to Bureau of Prisons in Bryan, Texas, a federal facility, he knew they would be out of jail for the time it took to transport them from Houston to Bryan. He spent a good deal of money and went to a lot of trouble to make that escape happen during the move.

  Unaware Roy and Hershel were dodging him, he thought it was just panic when they ran the wrong way from the wrecked van. But once again, it messed up his plan to pick them up at the designated location and get his share of the loot.

  Now Dude was still out his share of the money, and Roy and Hershel were on the move without means of communication.

  * * *

  Roy and Hershel were free again, without giving Dude Santos a thought, but they wouldn’t be free for long if they didn’t find wheels and ditch this prison orange.

  They kept to the back alleys, knowing a lot of businesses would be receiving early-morning deliveries, and were looking for a delivery van to steal. They knew there was a bad storm coming, and they wanted to be long gone from Houston before it hit.

  They’d spent a night sleeping in an abandoned building and were back on the move before daylight. It was just before 7:00 a.m. when they spotted a produce truck parked in an alley with the motor running.