Innocent Next Door (Military Men Book 1) (9 page)

He indicated the packets of white powder sitting on the top of her uncle’s desk.

“Are they what—?”

Sirens sounded in the distance, loud and insistent.

“Yep, I’d take that bet,” he said, leaning against the wall. “Those packages aren’t yours?”

Summer inched toward the desk, eyeing the items as if they might pounce. Curious, she reached out to touch.

“Don’t.” Nikolai moved so quickly she flinched. “You don’t want to leave your fingerprints.”

Her head thudded in sync with the advancing sirens. She stared wordlessly at Nikolai as a vehicle pulled up outside. The siren ceased and blessed quietness fell, not a sound except the drubbing of her heart and Nikolai’s slow, controlled breathing.

A fist hammered on the door.

Nikolai dropped the arm from her shoulder. “I’ll get it.”

“No. Let me. You’re not going to do anything stupid?”

“No point. The cops know it’s here.”

“How? I don’t understand. This is a bad movie.”

A bark of laughter sounded seconds before a fist pounded the door again. “Somehow, sweetheart, I think it’s gonna get worse.”

How?
Her mother would have a cow if she heard, and the news would reach her family by bush telegraph. It always did. Masculine voices discussed forcing an entrance. “I’m coming.” She yanked the door open before they took further action. “Yes?”

Blue and red lights flashed on top of the unmarked police vehicle. Two plain clothes cops stood on the doorstep, their identifications held aloft for her to inspect. She should’ve felt intimidated, but Nikolai’s presence boosted her confidence. “Can I help you?”

“Police,” one said unnecessarily.

“Can I do something to help you?” she repeated, standing in the middle of the doorway. “It is rather late.”

“We’ve had a tip-off about one of our investigations. Can we come in?”

She scowled as the older of the two policemen advanced. She stood her ground. “Don’t you need a warrant or something?”

Nikolai appeared behind her. “Let them in, Summer.”

Wordlessly, she stepped back to allow the officers to enter.

“I think you’ll find what you’re looking for in the study,” Nikolai said.

“Who are you?” the younger policeman asked.

“Nikolai Tarei.” As he spoke, he moved closer and curved his arm around her waist, drawing her against his side. When she opened her mouth to speak, he tightened his grip, and she slammed her mouth shut. Inwardly, she fumed. Once again, he was taking charge.

“We have a few questions.”

“Come through to the kitchen,” Nikolai said.

Summer wanted to protest his highhandedness. She glared her annoyance, but he merely shook his head and propelled her into the kitchen. One of the policemen followed while the other stepped into her uncle’s study.

“Can you tell us what this is about please?” she asked after subsiding into a chair. Her voice held clear impatience.

The policeman ignored her prompting. “Your name?”

“Summer Williams.”

“Do you own this house, Mr. Tarei?”

“My uncle owns this house. Nikolai lives next door.”

The second policeman entered the kitchen. He held the packets of white powder in his right hand. He wore gloves and held the packets by the corners.

“Do these belong to you, Miss Williams?”

“No.”

“Do you have any idea how they came to be on the desk then?”

She glanced at Nikolai, and at his imperceptible nod, she answered the question. “Nikolai and I have been out all day. We returned fifteen minutes ago. The front door was unlocked, and when we came inside we both heard noises. By the time we investigated whoever was inside had left via the study window. If you look, you’ll see a footprint on the windowsill.”

“Hmm.” The older policeman scratched the stubble on his chin. “I’d like you to accompany us to the station.”

* * * * *

“I didn’t expect them to keep us there all night,” Summer muttered. “For a while there, I thought they were going to lock us up.”

Nikolai shrugged as an unmarked blue sedan pulled up beside them. “This looks like our ride home.”

He spoke to the driver and opened the back door for Summer. Nikolai slid in beside her and the car pulled away. On the short drive home, neither of them spoke.

“Looks like you have company, Summer.”

Summer jerked upright, flushing at the realization she’d gone to sleep and used Nikolai as a pillow. Good grief. Had she dribbled on his shirt? She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and surreptitiously checked her mouth and chin for dampness. “Sorry?”

“Martin’s here.”

Summer’s head jerked up. She gasped, then turned back to stare at Nikolai. “What do I tell him?”

“I’d stick to the truth,” Nikolai said in an undertone.

“At least I’ll be able to prove he has nothing to do with crime.”

“Maybe.”

The car pulled up alongside Dare’s convertible. After thanking the driver, they climbed out.

“Hi, Dare.” Summer smiled. “Have you been waiting long?”

Dare’s look held antagonism as he glared at Nikolai. She needed to get rid of Nikolai before things turned ugly.

“Thanks for the help, Nikolai. I’ll see you later.” She backed up her words with a wave, took Dare’s arm and dragged him toward the front door. For once, Nikolai seemed to trust her to deal with the situation on her own.

“Where have you been?” Dare demanded in a low, furious voice.

Summer unlocked the door and stood back for him to enter. She refused to argue in front of Nikolai. She sensed his gaze even with her back to him. A tingle sprang to life inside her, and it had nothing to do with Dare’s arrival.

She rubbed her gritty eyes and forced another smile. “I could do with a cup of coffee. Come through to the kitchen, and I’ll explain everything. It’s been a rough night.”

Five minutes later, the scent of freshly ground coffee beans filled the air and coffee dripped into the carafe.

“You know Natasha and I went to the movies last night?”

“Yes.”

“When Nikolai dropped me off here, someone was inside the house. Whoever it was left several packets of cocaine and called the cops to alert them.”

“Cocaine?” Dare stared at her in astonishment.

The reaction was genuine. Summer would swear to it. “It wasn’t good quality, but definitely cocaine. Lucky for me, the culprit left a boot print on the windowsill and none of the packets had my fingerprints on them, either inside or out. But the police still took me in for questioning. I’ve been there all night.”

“The police don’t have any idea who called them?” This time his voice held an edge, something off that made her wish she could read his mind. Men were so unpredictable.

She frowned at the coffeemaker and wished it would hurry. “No. They think the call was made on a cell phone—one of those prepaid ones that are difficult to trace.”

“What was your next-door neighbor doing with you? Why didn’t you call me?”

There had been a time, not long ago, when she would’ve felt thrilled to have two men pay attention to her. “I didn’t call you because I thought you were busy.”

“But you called him.”

He sounded sulky. Male egos. She could do without them. “The police took him in for questioning too because he was still here.”

“I don’t like the way he hangs around or the way he looks at you. He probably called the cops.”

Summer suppressed a snappish comeback. “He’s my uncle’s friend. I suspect my uncle asked him to watch out for me. I can’t be rude. The coffee’s ready. Black, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Dare paced the length of the kitchen. “Thanks,” he added as an afterthought.

She plonked the mug on the wooden table and muttered under her breath when her undue force splashed coffee over the maroon tablecloth. She grabbed a rag to wipe up the spill and sat to savor her morning beverage.

Dare paused mid-pace and whirled to face her. His intense frown made her stare. As she watched, he strode past the table, past his waiting coffee. He was leaving? Or was he merely doing an extra large lap?

She swiveled in her chair. Her mouth dropped open when he kept going through the open door. “Dare, what about your coffee? Dare!”

“Something’s come up. I have to go.”

“Right now? Without drinking your coffee?”

“Sorry.”

The apology lacked in sincerity, and she leapt to her feet. “What’s come up?”

A flash of irritation flickered in him. His full mouth firmed as he checked his phone. “I need to go to work. A problem with a business competitor. I’ll ring you later.”

Talk about a pat on the head. She sank onto her chair. What had happened to make him run off that way? She replayed the last quarter of an hour in her mind and came up blank. One moment he’d been acting the jealous boyfriend, then the next he was in full business mode. Then, another thought occurred.

What if Nikolai was right about Dare? Did Dare know more than he was letting on about the drugs they’d found in Uncle Henry’s study?

Chapter Eight

Dare’s abrupt defection niggled at her for the rest of the morning, so much so that she had difficulty concentrating on the Sunday paper. She half expected him to call yet heard nothing.

By two o’clock, she gave up waiting and grabbed the keys for her Mazda and her exercise gear. If she hurried, she could make the Tae Kwon Do class and shop for groceries on the way home. If Dare rang while she was out, too bad.

Her car started with the usual bad-tempered splutters, and she muttered and cursed before she and the car came to terms and traveled sedately toward Papakura. The traffic became heavier once she neared the motorway turnoff. People heading home after the weekend away. A flicker of loneliness brought a flash of homesickness for friends and family. She slowed at the intersection and indicated a right turn onto a quiet road that would get her to her class and avoid most of the traffic.

While she drove down the hedge-lined road, she puzzled over Dare’s weird behavior. A screech of tires made her glance in her rear-vision mirror. Another vehicle was rapidly closing the distance between them.

She gulped when it kept coming, faster and faster.

Fear dried her mouth.

The reflection of a four-wheel drive vehicle filled her mirror—black with shiny silver chrome in the front. She pressed the accelerator. Tires shrieked and her aging car shuddered, protesting the demand for speed. The black monster continued to stalk her.

Every two seconds, like a magnet seeking metal, her gaze was drawn to her rear-vision mirror. A maniac. The driver was deranged.

She gripped the steering wheel, her heart galloping. If anything, he’d sped up.

“Idiot.” Strong, colorful curses danced through her head. Her hands tightened on the wheel, while sweat broke out on her forehead, her palms—all over her body.

A witness. She needed a witness.

She prayed for a car to come from the other direction. It didn’t happen. Instead, the roaring behind grew louder, more frightening. More threatening. She glanced in the mirror again and caught a glimpse of white teeth, lips curled in a wolfish smile.

A crash jolted her vehicle. Her car shot forward. Her body snapped toward the windscreen and jerked to a halt at the jam of the seat belt. Air exploded from her lungs, and she wheezed for replacement oxygen.

The four-wheel drive slammed into her bumper a second time. Metal ground against metal in a horrible, expensive grating.

Summer’s car shunted off the road, flying over a low bank into a ditch. The branches of the roadside hedge scraped the window and the paintwork.
Fingernails on a blackboard
.

Her car plowed to a halt in the hedge, the branches blocking the sun. Her engine cut, and she heard the roar of the four-wheel drive as it slowed, the spray of gravel as it departed. Somewhere close, an animal bleated in fright, then all was quiet.

With trembling hands, she attempted tried to release her seat belt. A shaft of pain shot across her chest. A soft moan escaped. She had to get out of the car. What if it caught on fire? Or what if that idiot returned?

He’d rammed her car on purpose.

He’d wanted to frighten her.

To injure.

She reached for the seat belt release again and on her third try the button lowered, freeing the pressure on her breathing. A splash of blood dropped to her hand. She needed to… What did she need to do? It was nighttime, wasn’t it? She’d go to sleep.

The plaintive moo of a cow jerked open her eyes. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. Summer blinked and realized she was in her car. That was right. She needed to get outside. She struggled with the door. It opened a fraction then slammed to a stop against something solid. The hedge shook, scraping against the car.

Jammed.

Try the passenger door
. She reached for the handle, and an arrow of pain darted through her upper body while inside her head, someone played a drum solo. She gritted her teeth and kept pushing the door. Without warning, it dropped open. A blast of fresh air blew inside, caressing her hot cheeks.

Summer sucked in a painful breath and crawled from the driver’s seat to the passenger side. The gear stick jabbed her thigh while the drum soloist worked into a crashing finale. She winced, and wiped a hand across her cheek. It came away covered with blood.

Behind her, a vehicle pulled up. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat. The driver had returned. God, what was she going to do?

“You there! What the devil do you think you are doing? I heard you speeding. No wonder you drove off the road. Stupid idiot. Don’t you watch the road safety ads on television? Probably been drinking,” the masculine voice finished in disgust.

This didn’t sound like the driver—not the way he was haranguing her. She crawled from the car and dropped into the long grass. Water seeped into her leggings while the stiff breeze tore at her hair. She shivered.

“You there! Are you all right?”

Was she all right? She considered the question.

“Look at you.” The man clicked his tongue in disgust, stomped closer, and when she lifted her head her vision filled with a pair of red-and-black gumboots. She tried to raise her gaze to his face but didn’t get any farther than the patched knees of his faded woolen trousers before pain kicked her butt.