The Acadia Killer

Chapter 25

The memories of my conversation with David MacAfee played over and over in my mind like an old movie reel as I drove back to Maine. It had felt wrong to leave an innocent person alone to return to a cold, lonely prison cell while I got to go back to a warm, comfy bed and a handsome man I was quickly falling in love with. David MacAfee's innocence plagued me with anger and sadness. I was disgusted that there were police officers in existence who felt that it was perfectly okay to stretch truths or flat out lie just to get someone – anyone behind bars and close a case, regardless of if that person was actually the perpetrator of the crime. I hoped that if all went right and David MacAfee got released from prison at the end of all this, he would write a book and tell the world about his experience. I hoped to see him bring awareness to the criminality that lurks in police departments and expose that detective who led him in the wrong direction.

Armed with the letter Michael Henry had sent David in prison, I pulled into the gravel driveway with tired eyes and a stressed mind, anxious to tell Blake about my conversation with the inmate. But Blake's truck wasn't there, and I assumed he was working late. I decided a hot shower and a good book were in order until he got back for the night, sending him a quick text that that's what I'd be doing while I waited up for him.

"Stuck at work. I'll be there as soon as I can," he texted back.

Walking into the house, I made sure to double check the lock on the door before proceeding to the bathroom. I set the letter David MacAfee had given me down on the coffee table and headed up the stairs, anxious to wash the day away.

As I turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up, my brain was wrapped with sorrow for David sitting alone in a cold cell, and concern for any potential victims that may lay in Michael Henry's murderous path. I wanted desperately to go to the district attorney's office and bitch out whichever A.D.A. was stupid enough to go along with David's sentencing and the string of lies from that detective who obviously didn't care enough to do her job. It was sickening. I literally felt physically ill thinking about a cop being so sadistic as to ruin someone's life like she did David's.

I did my best to shake the disappointment and anger from my mind as I stepped into the shower. I wanted to enjoy my shower and wash away all the stress and sadness I was experiencing and come out feeling fresh and focused on happier thoughts.

As I washed my hair, my mind traveled to Blake. He was quickly becoming my rock and the person I wanted to lean on throughout this entire mess. I knew it wouldn't take much for me to fall in love with this man. He was addicting and amazing and everything a woman could want in a man, complete with a very attractive uniform. I felt a little crazy or like I was overthinking things by feeling like I could fall for him at any given moment, especially since I'd only known him a short amount of time and we had yet to make anything official, but it was the way I felt and I couldn't change that. I didn't want it to change either. I had very strong feelings for Blake, and I was happy about that. For once, a man was treating me right and making me feel good, and I didn't want to see that go away for anything.

Blake was an incredible man and I felt so lucky to have met him when I did. I hoped things would continue progressing between us. My only concern – aside from the fact that his father was a sadistic, murderous piece of shit – was that I would be leaving soon. I had no idea what would become of our relationship when I had to leave Maine, and that scared me. I didn't want to leave Blake or give up what we had. In a perfect world, I would be so happy just to stay in the beach house and continue being wrapped in Blake's arms every night as if nothing was wrong in the world, but I knew that was unrealistic, no matter how badly I wished things would work out that way.

A hard ran came flooding down, drowning out even the sound of the showerhead spray. The noise on the metal roof sounded like hail, but I couldn't see any out the tiny window in the shower stall. I quickly finished up my shower and stepped out into the chilly bathroom air. The steam had fogged up the mirror and I used a towel to wipe the moisture away. Drying off and wrapping a towel around my body, I tried to stop shivering and turned on the bathroom heater. It didn't take long for it to heat up the room and make my goosebumps disappear. Thankfully, I'd thought to bring my clean clothes into the bathroom, so I didn't have to run to the bedroom and freeze my ass off to find clothes.