Smoky Mountain Investigation (11 page)

Dave gave a shrug. “Not too long. Three, maybe four hours tops. Rigor mortis hadn’t set in yet. Blood was still oozing from the wound when he was found.”

Great.
Kylie swallowed against a dry throat. More detail than she cared to know. “The person who found him didn’t see anything?”

“No.” Dave shook his head. “It was a man and his wife. They spotted the body when they walked to the picnic tables to have lunch. There were no other vehicles in the area. They probably just missed the culprit.”

“So you both agree that this crime is related to the airport murder and most likely Conrad’s?” She looked at Dave and then Nick.

Dave gave a single nod and Nick’s frown deepened the creases around his eyes and answered her question even before he replied, “Afraid so.”

As much as she was inclined to agree, she still held an inkling of hope that this was an unrelated murder. She hated to believe that the man who was stalking her was on a killing rampage.

“Too many similarities.” Dave fixed his smoky gaze on her as if he could read her mind. “One precision slash across the neck. No other injuries noted, like the last victim and Conrad.”

Kylie’s pulse quickened and she shoved the images of the other victims from her mind, afraid of what her churning stomach might do if she allowed them to surface.

“Detective Michelson, look at this.” A voice rose above the commotion around them.

Dave turned on the heel of his boot as a police officer, short and thick, with a harried expression on his face, hustled toward the detective. “One of the dogs uncovered this.” He held up a wallet tangled in slimy moss.

Dave dug a pair of gloves from his pocket and pulled them on. “Can’t beat those canine noses.” He took it from the officer, peeled away the green bog, then opened it and went through the contents.

“This guy’s getting bolder all the time and not as careful.” Nick brushed up closer to her, tightening his hold around her shoulders. A warm charge zipped up her spine. Of course, Nick was merely attempting to calm her, although it was completely backfiring.

“He’s pushing his limits, ditching a body in a rest area off the parkway in broad daylight,” Nick said, then added, “It is just a matter of time.”

“Sooner rather than later, I hope.” Kylie eased away from him, out of the warmth of his embrace, hoping to clear her thoughts and create a safer distance between them.

Crossing her arms, she eyed Nick, waiting for him to elaborate about the crime scene. He wasn’t looking at her, though. His attention was on Dave as he went through the wallet.

For the first time since they’d left the mountain, Kylie studied Nick. Mud caked the soles of his scuffed boots and the green camo jacket over his white polo also bore splotches of dirt. He had a placid look on his face and his dark gaze seemed to haze over, revealing concern.

Kylie’s insides twisted into a tight knot. She was appalled at how irritable and insensitive she’d been earlier. He wasn’t to blame for this nightmare or the fact that her heart still clung to the past. He’d moved on and owed her nothing. Yet he continued to walk through this trial with her, helping her stay safe and strong. A man of noble character. If nothing else, he was a good friend.

That would have to be enough. Before she had time to fully convince herself of that fact, she heard Dave mutter, “Well, I’ll be.”

Kylie whirled toward him. “What is it?”

Dave waved a small card. “The victim’s ID. Thomas Crosby, from Hampton, Virginia. Have you ever heard of him?”

Kylie took the laminated card and studied the picture on the front. “He doesn’t look familiar.” She handed it back to Dave.

Dave’s gaze moved from the card in his hand to Kylie and back again. After a seeming eternity, he cleared his throat. “Well, if you don’t know Mr. Crosby, the killer may have planted this, too.”

“Planted what?” She was almost afraid to ask.

Dave tugged a small photo from the wallet’s plastic sleeve.

Squinting at the picture, it took a moment before Kylie recognized her own high-school graduation photo.

Kylie stared, dismayed, as her blood turned to ice, sending an unwelcome shiver dancing up her spine. “Why is this happening?”

Nick shook his head. “Don’t let this get to you. Think of it as the predator’s calling card. He’s letting us know he was responsible. One more clue. That’s what you need to remember.” His voice was low, but firm.

Tears of disbelief nearly blinded Kylie. Stunned, she nodded.

Logically, that statement sounded reasonable. Emotionally, nothing did.

* * *

Late that same evening, Nick sat at his brother’s kitchen table, his hand cupped around a mug of coffee. As he looked over the updated flowchart on the table in front of him, a menacing ache filled his chest. He still had no conclusive evidence.

Serial killers were smart, crafty and patient, so the lack of clues shouldn’t surprise him. He set down his nearly empty mug and lifted a hand to massage his left temple. There had to be something he was missing. And that something was driving him crazy.

So far the only fact he was certain of was that there was a maniac out there who had access to Kylie.

Chills marched down the length of his arms as that thought rooted in his mind. It had to be someone she knew. One of their high-school classmates could be the culprit. Or even a friend from church, a coworker or a neighbor. Then again, there was her editor.

Nick applied more pressure to his temple, rubbing vigorously.
Or the man in the moon.

He bumped a fist against the table. Facts. He needed facts. Something to zero in on. He hated maybes and at the moment, that was all he had. He shoved back from the table and rose. The back of his chair smacked into the wall.

“Still nothing?”

The softness of Kylie’s voice had its usual calming effect on him and the evening suddenly got brighter.

Nick swung his head to the doorway and stared at her, bundled in her chenille robe, the hem of silky pajama pants brushing against her ankles. She had scrubbed her face clean, wet curls framing her face. He drew a deep breath, feeling strangely rejuvenated at her relaxed demeanor and simple beauty. She was a sight to behold.

“Slow progress.” He worked up a small grin.

When her lips parted into a smile, his heart warmed a little more.

Rising, he strode toward her. “With all the chaos since I’ve been here, I haven’t had a chance to tell you how beautiful you still look.”

Kylie shook her head, tugged the sash on her robe. “Oh, Captain Bentley, you are definitely sleep deprived.”

“Nope. I noticed the moment I saw you. You haven’t changed at all.”

The twitch of humor at the corners of Kylie’s lips slowly turned into a full-fledged grin. “Well, outside of a few extra pounds, maybe.”

In all the right places.
Nick caught himself before that comment slipped out.

“Actually, you look pretty good yourself.” Kylie braced one shoulder against the archway wall and crossed her arms. The collar of her pink robe inched up, nestling lightly at the base of her neck and complimenting the cherry flush on her cheeks. “Although I’d hoped that by now you might be touting a nice burly paunch. Or at least have a few wiry hairs protruding from your ears or nostrils.”

He laughed, completely understanding. A big wart on her nose might have been just the thing to keep his haywire emotions on track. But then again...probably not. He cleared his throat and refocused. “Sorry to disappoint you. Give me a couple decades, and my midsection and extraneous whiskers should be thriving.”

Laughter gleamed in her crystal-green eyes. That was another thing about Kylie he remembered, the way her whole face lit up when she relaxed. Genuine pleasure. Her eyes twinkled first, and then her smile turned lethal.

His heartbeat kicked up in response. He tore his gaze away from her face with more effort than he cared to admit. No other woman had affected him like that.

Dangerous soil, that was what he was treading on.

Seeing her finally unwind catapulted him back to their high-school years. A time of youth and love and dreams of a future together. When they had both believed that nothing could tear them apart. But Nick had learned the hard way that life could change at a moment’s notice, altering every plan and every direction.

“About this morning, Nick.” Kylie’s smile faded and her expression turned somber. “I said some things that probably sounded unappreciative. Please don’t think that I am. I do appreciate your help. I just don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“A burden?” Nick shook his head and moved a step closer. “Don’t ever think that. We’re in this together.”

Color drained from her face. For a moment, she simply stood there and said nothing. Finally, she mumbled, “In it together? Like the night Conrad died?”

Conrad?
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

Her gaze clung to his. She caught her bottom lip with her teeth. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

It did matter. The wary look in her eyes told him that. Just seeing that distress dredged up old feelings that he’d buried deep in the furthest reaches of his being. Conrad’s death had left a mark on so many, but the pain flaring in Kylie’s gaze belonged to Nick.

“What is it, Kylie?”

She said nothing, simply stood there with a troubled cast to her delicate features.

Then it hit him. “Do you think I blame you?” He narrowed his eyes and pointed a thumb back at his chest.

“You should,” she answered in a matter-of-fact way. “I wheedled you into sneaking out of camp that night.”

One step more and Nick stood toe-to-toe with her. So close he could see specks of gold in her eyes and the little tremor in her lip. He wanted to kiss her. He really did. Fortunately, good sense prevailed. “Kylie, I never blamed you and still don’t.”

She gave him a doleful look. “You had second thoughts about hiking to the overlook. Because of my selfishness you went against your instincts and came with me.”

Nick’s heart twisted at the misperception. “Kylie, I learned a long time ago that a man makes his own decisions.”

“However, sometimes those decisions are made out of duty.” She lifted her lashes and glared at him.

He frowned, not liking the direction of her thoughts. He already carried enough guilt for the both of them. “I made the choice, Kylie. My choice. My responsibility.”

“Very noble, Captain.” She hiked up her chin. “However, that nobility turned into a curse. You took claim to a burden that didn’t belong to you.”

Nick scratched his head. “That’s a bit overstated.”

Kylie met his eyes, the intensity in her gaze unmistakable. “Nick. You didn’t kill Conrad. After years of beating myself up with shame, I finally came to grips with the fact that my childish antics didn’t put Conrad in his grave. By God’s grace, my guilt was lifted and I’m desperately trying to move on.”

“I’m happy for you. No point in staying locked in the past.”

There was a heartbeat of hesitation before she responded, “When are you going to let go of the past, Nick?”

He swallowed, feeling as if a clenching fist had hold of his larynx. She didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand.

Hurt flashed briefly in Kylie’s emerald eyes before he saw the sheen of unshed tears. “You blame yourself. You blame God. Maybe I should spend the rest of my life accepting the blame.”

A beat passed and before he could respond, she shot up her hand. “No, wait. You’ve got guilt covered. And that’s the part I hate.” She swallowed, glanced away.

He hated that, too. Gently, he caught her chin with his fingers and turned her face to look at him. “I think we’re getting off track. There’s a killer on the loose, a stalker. That in itself evokes a lot of emotions. Let’s put what happened ten years ago behind us and concentrate on today.”

Kylie blinked, and then nodded. “You’re probably right. But I hope you’ll make use of your own advice about not holding on to the past.”

“I’m working on it.” Nick dredged up a smile. As he caught her gaze again, he saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Her confidence inspired him, but that didn’t make letting go of the past any easier.

TEN

T
he very next morning, around eleven o’clock, Kylie had high hopes of a nice peaceful brunch with Nick. But instead, as they sat on a lobby bench and waited for a table at the Egg Masters Café on Main Street, she mentally counted the curious glances from across the room. Nick didn’t seem to notice. He had his nose stuck in a menu.

She glanced at her watch. Twenty-two minutes and counting. Keeping her eyes averted, she picked up a menu and started to peruse the list of options, although she already knew what she wanted to order. Still, she allowed her gaze to rove the laminated pages, trying not to let the spectators distract her.

Fear and tension had quickened the pulse of this once-quiet city. The recent homicides were big news and had become a hot topic for residents, especially with the possible link to Conrad’s unsolved murder. Since Kylie continued to cover the story, not to mention being the killer’s contact person, her friends and neighbors considered her a key informant. If she even dared to cast a glance at one of the familiar faces, it would be an open invitation for them to start asking questions. Something she’d learned the hard way over the years.

This was the part of her job that frustrated her most. People assumed she knew more than she reported. Which, in this case, wasn’t correct.

Outside of investigating her graduating class, the case had added up to zilch. And they’d yet to come up with a possible connection between victims. The investigators and forensic team were working furiously, although still lacking crucial details.

Kylie shifted uncomfortably against the hard bench. She couldn’t help wondering if one of those curious glances belonged to her stalker.

That thought tightened her gut and sent shivers along the fine hairs at the base of her neck. More than anyone, she understood the danger of this killer.

Pushing aside her turbulent thoughts, she glanced at Nick, still totally engrossed in breakfast options.