Smoky Mountain Investigation (12 page)

“Did you find anything you might like?”

Nick lowered his menu enough for her to glimpse his dark chocolate eyes. “Are you kidding? I’m trying to narrow it down. It’s been years since I’ve seen this many choices for breakfast.”

Kylie slapped a hand to her chest, feigning surprise. “What? The military didn’t offer thirty-two varieties of omelets to their soldiers?”

With a chuckle, Nick pressed his elbow into hers. “Do you think I would have left if they had?”

Was that all it took to keep him around? A vast breakfast menu? She bit her lower lip, fighting down a sigh, wishing he would stick around. Wishing he had a reason to stay.

Nick tucked the menu into the metal holder on the wall, then thumped back against the bench and folded his arms. “Actually, my team and I got excited at the sight of a hard-boiled egg. Our tours didn’t afford much in the way of family diners.”

“Well, then, I guess it’s good to be home.” She slanted a glance at him, crossed her fingers and said a prayer.

The glint in Nick’s eyes faded and his lips drew into a fine line before he gave a shrug. “It’s good for now.”

That was what she was afraid of. Her heart sank a little.

“Bentley. Party of two.” The waitress appeared from around the corner. She grabbed two packages of silverware from a tub beside the register and gestured for them to follow.

There was nothing fancy about this place. The waitstaff wore blue jeans and T-shirts and the decor ranged from an eclectic collection of weathered farm tables and mismatched wooden chairs to a colorful array of antique paintings on the walls.

Homey and cozy. She liked that. And having Nick here with her, well...nostalgic thoughts came rushing back. This had been a favorite eatery of theirs. Affordable and good food. A nice combination for high-school students with minimal funds.

The waitress seated them at a small table in the corner. Kylie sank onto the chair by the wall and noticed Nick’s quick scan of the patrons before he took the seat across from her. The same encompassing glance that he gave when they walked in. He never left his training behind. How could she not feel safe with this man?

Amid her mixed feeling about having him around, she figured God knew what He was doing.

The day was shaping up to be good. The pastor’s message about trust and belief had inspired her and Nick had actually managed to stay awake through it all. Maybe the army had softened him some. Maybe someday he’d believe again—

Stop it!
Suppressing a sigh, she unraveled her napkin and placed silverware on either side of her woven place mat.

Nick leaned forward, planted his forearms on the table. “What are you having?”

She smoothed the napkin across her lap. “Spinach omelet and whole-wheat toast.”

He angled his head, his brow crinkling. “Just spinach? A little boring, isn’t it?”

She shrugged. “A healthy choice and delicious.”

Then came the chuckle. “Thirty-two varieties of omelets and you want spinach?”

It still took her breath away to witness the gleam of delight in his eyes when he laughed. “I know what I like.”

Nick picked up a menu, glancing at it again. “I guess that would make ordering easier. I’m trying to decide between the jalapeno-and-taco-meat omelet and the mighty meat lover’s.”

“Difficult choices.” She smiled, but her churning abdomen couldn’t afford any surprises. “I’m in the mood for something familiar and predictable.”

“Familiar and predictable?” Lowering his menu, he raised an eyebrow. “Like Asheville?”

“Yeah. Although lately—” she looped a stray lock of hair behind her ear “—not so predictable.”

“Hopefully, that will change soon.”

“Let’s hope so.” She nodded and then asked, “What about you?”

“Me? I don’t know.” He gave a small yawn and leaned back in his seat. “It’s been years since familiar and predictable have been part of my vocabulary. I’m not sure what I like anymore.”

Kylie fought off another sigh. She knew exactly what she liked and she was staring at him right now.

When breakfast was about over, Nick motioned to the waitress. “Could we have refills on our drinks, please?”

Balancing plates in her hands, she nodded. “Someone will be there in a moment.”

“Did you enjoy your meal?” Kylie really didn’t have to ask as Nick shoveled the last of his omelet into his mouth.

He swallowed his bite. “A meat-lover’s omelet and buttermilk biscuits. What could be better?”

“Spinach and wheat toast.” She tilted her head and met his eyes, egging him on and enjoying the grin that erupted across his jaw.

“You guys need refills?” With a coffee carafe in one hand and a pitcher of water in the other, the hostess, Lindsay Potter, stopped at their table.

Before Kylie or Nick could answer the question, the woman’s jaw dropped. “Nick Bentley?”

Glancing up, he said, “Guilty as charged.” Although not looking too guilty.

“It seems like forever since I’ve seen you. Do you remember me?”

Nick gave a tight grin. “Lindsay Potter, right?”

Lindsay nodded, her eyes all for Nick. “I was just thinking about you when I heard about your brother’s accident. I wondered if you’d be coming around.” She took a step closer and slid a pitcher on the table.

Nick gave a lazy shrug. “I’ll be around to help out for a while.”

“That’s awesome. We’ve missed you around here.” Lindsay beamed, fingering a lock of her blond hair, piled high, ringlets spilling down. She was still attractive and voluptuous. Her figure-hugging jeans attested to that, accentuating her long legs and every curve.

“Thanks. It’s always good to be missed.”

If missing him was good, Kylie won the prize. Absently, she smoothed hair from her face, wondering what it would be like to be blonde. Lindsay had been prom queen, head cheerleader and the most popular girl in school. Intimidating then...and now.

“Nick, I gotta tell you,” Lindsay went on with a flirty giggle. “You really look great.”

Brother.
Kylie sank against the wooden back of her chair and turned her gaze to the scenery out the window.

“It looks as though you’re doing well yourself,” Nick responded.

Another giggle from Lindsay. “Thanks. I’m doing just fine, even better now that you’re here. While you’re in town, let’s plan to get together sometime.”

Kylie whipped her gaze back. Lindsay wasn’t really asking him out?

The look of anticipation on Lindsay’s face told her different. And with Kylie right there—Nick’s old girlfriend. Some nerve. Even in high school Lindsay had hit on him a few times, and for all Lindsay knew, she and Nick could be dating again.

Kylie swallowed. But that wasn’t the case.

A pause, then a shrug from Nick. “I don’t know, Lindsay. I’m pretty busy.”

Was he even considering it? Kylie fought not to cringe. Of course he was. He was male, after all. He hadn’t died when their relationship fizzled. He’d probably had a list of romances since then. Kylie being the least of them.

“Come on, Nick. Surely you have a night or two free.” Lindsay gracefully shifted her weight.

If she moved any closer to Nick, Kylie would just—do what? Nick was a friend, nothing more. He could see whom he wanted. Do what he wanted.

Dragging her gaze away, Kylie wadded up her napkin and dropped it on her plate. Jealousy wasn’t usually an issue for her, but the heat swarming through her body certainly showed that wasn’t the case now.

Breathing deep, Kylie waited a moment, then picked up her glass. It might be a good time for a little distraction before Lindsay tucked her phone number into Nick’s hand. “Excuse me, Lindsay. Could I please have some more water?”

With a small huff, Lindsay snagged the decanter of water off the table and pivoted toward Kylie. “Here you go.” She hastily tilted the pitcher, her movements so jerky she overfilled the glass, pouring water down Kylie’s arm to her elbow, saturating her sleeve.

The icy-cold liquid made Kylie gasp. She let go of the glass, sending it crashing onto the table. Rivulets of water flowed in every direction, cascading over the table edge and onto her lap.

Jumping up, Kylie grabbed a napkin and began blotting her skirt, now sticking wetly to her legs. Molten heat crept into her cheeks.

Nick surged up from his seat, offering Kylie his napkin, while Lindsay, still armed with two vessels of liquid, charged toward her.

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing.” Kylie shot up one hand while tugging down her skirt with the other.

“How about something else to drink, or maybe dessert? It will be on the house,” Lindsay offered, gesturing with one of the carafes toward the kitchen.

“No. I’m good.” Shivering, Kylie shook her head. “I just need to get to the ladies’ room and dry off.”

Equally embarrassed and annoyed, mostly at herself, Kylie snaked her way through the crowded section of tables. More curious glances, but this time for a very different reason.

Inside the bathroom, she pulled out several paper towels and blotted her skirt. Then she peeled off her sweater, wringing out the sleeve as she smirked at the rosy blush on her cheeks in the mirror. She should be embarrassed at the obvious way she’d interrupted Lindsay to put a stop to her flirtatious propositions.

So high-schoolish. Nick probably thought she was crazy.

Even in her sense of chagrin, Kylie had to laugh as she replayed the scene in her head.

She punched the metal button on the hand dryer mounted on the wall. Hot air spewed out. She held the sleeve of her sweater under it.

Next time she’d mind her own business.

Lord, forgive me.

A trill of her cell phone cut through the hum of the dryer and made her heart skip a beat. Dropping her sweater, she fished the handset out of her skirt pocket.

Swallowing, she held it to her ear. “Hello.”

“Kylie.” The deep, breathy drawl strained through the phone line.

Air evacuated her lungs. “Um...yes,” she muttered, barely audible.

“Kylie. My precious Kylie. You sound upset.”

“No, I’m—” Her voice broke. She pulled the receiver from her ear, cleared her throat and came back to the line. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Oh, I’m glad to hear you’re feeling well. I’ve missed talking to you. Have you missed me?”

Frustration welled in her chest. She hated playing games. “Please don’t taunt me. I don’t even know who you are.”

“Oh, but you do.”

A shudder ripped up Kylie’s spine. She breathed deep, worked to keep her voice steady. “That’s a pretty vague statement. Why don’t you at least give me a hint?”

His raspy chuckle seeped through the line, raising the hairs on her neck. “It’s not time for that yet, dear. I still have work to do.”

A bubble of panic replaced the frustration in her chest. She swallowed, pushing past the fear. “Work? What kind of work?”

A pause stretched across the phone line.

Kylie gritted her teeth. This conversation was ludicrous. He was baiting her. She took another deep breath. Made a decision to dig in, find out what she could. “Are you responsible for the murder at Black Hawk rest area?”

Silence. Longer this time.

Finally, he said, “Oh, Kylie, I’m flattered that you recognized my talent.”

“Talent? You mean slaughter.”

“Tsk, tsk, my dear. Cleaning the streets of the unlovely isn’t slaughter.”

“What?”

“Outcasts. Criminals. Predators on society.”

Like you.
Kylie bit her tongue. Desperate questions bubbled inside her mind. She snatched the most disturbing thought. “Is that what you thought Conrad was? An outcast or predator?”

Another period of silence lapsed. She waited. Second thoughts about her assumption that this man was involved in Conrad’s death crossed her mind.

The man’s heavy sigh shattered the hush. “A casualty, my dear. Conrad got in the way.”

Got in the way of what? She tried to move her lips to shout the question. Tears flooded her eyes. This man had killed Conrad.

A heartbeat passed. Maybe two.

“Sweet Kylie, I’ll be in touch.”

“Wait—” she managed just before he hung up.

* * *

This time Nick was the one doing the pacing. By the white shaft of light illuminating them, Kylie watched him pace the length of Steven’s living-room rug, hands jammed in his pockets. His ability to stay patient and calm had started to wane. Not a good thing. His strength helped keep her strong.

Lord, help us both.

“Are you sure the caller didn’t imply anything about his next move? Or allude to what kind of work he had to do?”

Kylie settled back against the sofa and took a breath. “No. I guess I threw him off when I asked him about Conrad.”

Nick stopped his march and shook his head, his eyes tunneling into hers. “Kylie, it’s important that when this guy calls, you let him do the talking. We can deal with his twisted history later. We need to know what he’s thinking now. Hopefully, he’ll drop one too many clues that will lead us to him. And the longer he stays on the line, the better opportunity we have to trace him.”

“Sorry.” She shrugged. Of course, Nick was right. Impulsiveness had gotten her into trouble more than once.

“I know it’s difficult to talk to the guy. But if you feel like you need to ask questions to keep the conversation going, focus on his future plans.” Nick settled his hands on his hips and cocked his left knee. A stance from his football days. Only now instead of a teenage athlete, she was looking at a man. A soldier. Stronger. More powerful.

Kylie swallowed. “You’re beginning to sound like Max.”

Nick crossed his arms, one eyebrow hooked upward. “Maybe I underestimated the man.”

“Really? What changed?”

“He’s a journalist at heart. Maybe he is just looking for a story. Although his motives are skewed.”

To say the least. “So he’s off your suspect list for now?”

A crooked smile stretched across his lips. “Nope. He’ll be on it until the case is solved.”

“How often do your suspicions pay off?”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

She straightened her back and returned his smile. “Yes, you are.” Very much so. And the intense way he was looking at her now would likely be the death of her.