Smoky Mountain Investigation (18 page)

He cleared his throat. “Then I’ll see you this evening. Any idea what time you’ll be back—” The rest of the words stuck in his throat. He was sounding like a father, not like a friend.

A friend who had stepped over his boundaries the night before. He could kick himself.

“I’m not sure, but I still have the key that you gave me. Don’t feel like you have to wait up.”

Shock jolted down the nerves of his spine. He sloughed it off and straightened his shoulders. How late was too late for him to wait up? He bit back the question, reminding himself to mind his own business. “All right. Be safe.”

Silence fell. Even more awkward this time. Nick shifted again.

Finally, she replied, “I will. Have a good night, Nick.”

“You, too.”

Although the likelihood of that happening now was about nil.

Strangely disappointed, Nick sat for a moment after Kylie hung up. No big deal, he told himself. A little separation was good for both of them. She could see whomever she wanted. She had no allegiance to him.

Still, he’d been looking forward to seeing her.

Since he’d arrived, he’d been wrestling with past feelings for her. The chemistry was still there. A scary proposition that deep down inside he knew would lead nowhere.

His life was scattered enough without a relationship to hold him down, especially with no plans set in stone. He had no idea where he’d be next. His only concern for Kylie was to keep her safe. He repeated that thought over and over in his head, drilling it in. Rhetoric he vowed to hold on to.

Something caught in his chest. Right then and there, he decided to get a grip and grow up. He’d been home less than two weeks, and already he’d regressed to acting like a teen. A lovesick teen, at that.

“Hey, Nick. It looks like all the supplies we ordered came in. Here are the completed inventory sheets.” Roger walked toward him and handed him a clipboard.

Blinking to align his jumbled thoughts, Nick cleared his throat and tried to grin. “Thanks.”

He took the clipboard and tucked it under his arm. He’d compare it to the master list later. “Roger, would you be interested in working late tonight? If you’d like a few extra hours, I could use some help getting the supplies stocked in the right location.”

A shrug from Roger. “Sure, I’m free. I don’t have anyone to get home to.”

I know the feeling.
Nick groaned inside. “Okay. Get yourself some dinner and we’ll get started when you get back.”

“I’m ordering pizza. I’ll make it a large if you’d like some?”

“Sure. Why not?” He had no one waiting at home for him, either.

FIFTEEN

I
n the newsroom, Kylie leaned back, rocking lightly in her office chair. Lifting a hand, she rubbed at the headache thumping behind her left temple. It had been harder than she expected telling Nick she had other plans. And it didn’t help that he’d invited her to dinner. A scenario she hadn’t considered when she arranged to meet up with her friend Taylor.

But after Dave’s surprise visit that morning, she needed a distraction. Some time to mull over the what-ifs and the maybes about the case. The suspicions Dave had raised about Nick sent her stomach into knots. And as much as she wanted to refute his theory, she couldn’t deny her life had been rather peaceful until Nick showed up again.

For one ghastly, twisted moment, she imagined Nick Bentley as her stalker. The murderer of three innocent men.

Hurt and sadness sent achy chills twining through her like a bad case of the flu.

Repressing a shiver, she gritted her teeth. No. It couldn’t be him.

Every fiber of her being strained to believe that.

Confusion rattled her brain and intensified her pounding headache at the same time. Closing her eyes, she rubbed harder at her temple.

Regardless of everything else, Nick would be out of her life soon. It only made sense to pull away some, for self-preservation and to shore up her still-fragile heart.

“I just got off the phone with Charlie. He said you made the copy deadline. Congratulations.”

At Max’s words, Kylie’s wayward thoughts jolted to a stop. Jerking upright in her chair, she whipped her gaze up to find him staring at her from across her desk, his usual smirk in place.

“You must be tired.”

More than he could imagine. “It’s been a long couple of weeks.” She brushed hair from her face.

“Yes, but interesting to say the least.” His crooked smile grew. “I’ve been thinking, after this crime is solved, you might consider selling your story for a book or maybe even movie rights. I’ll be happy to represent you myself. I have a few friends in the publishing business.”

His eyes rounded with enthusiasm and Kylie bit her tongue to keep from telling him to stop thinking.

She pushed up from her seat, and bracing her fingertips on the desktop, she leaned in and stared at Max.

Eyebrows drew together over the thrust of his nose. Inching back a step, he asked, “What are you looking at?”

She canted her head, staring harder. “I wanted to get a good look at the dollar signs in your eyes.”

Max’s short bark of laughter bounced around the room, further enhanced by chuckles erupting from nearby coworkers.

Satisfied and fighting a grin, Kylie resumed her seat. “You know, you’re making me crazy, Max.”

He gave a shrug, still laughing. “Everyone has a job to do.”

“You do yours well.”

Another crooked smile sprouted. “Can I assume you don’t want me to pitch your story to any of the publishers I know?”

“Correct.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Unfortunately.

He shot her his infamous two-finger salute and walked out of the newsroom.

As far as Max being her stalker, she still couldn’t buy that theory. True, he’d always come across as attention seeking to her and a bit egotistical, but a murderer?

Doubtful.

Maybe her stalker was lying low and had yet to come out of the woodwork.

She swallowed. That theory didn’t bring much comfort, either.

* * *

Just past eleven o’clock, Kylie climbed out of her friend Taylor’s car and made her way up the driveway to Steven’s house. She was pleasantly rested and relaxed. The evening had flown by in a whirl of conversation—idle talk about friends, Sunday school, even the latest red-dot sale at Trestle’s Department Store.

No mention of murderers, stalkers or Nick Bentley. A perfect evening.

As she entered through the front door, silence greeted her. Either Nick hadn’t gotten home yet or he’d taken her advice and not waited up.

After a single step, a light snore rose, sending a band of butterflies flittering inside her stomach. Her question answered.

She slid through the foyer without a sound. The lamp from the side table in the living room illuminated softly. Kylie’s instincts told her to walk quickly to her room, but she couldn’t help but halt briefly beside the sofa where Nick slept.

A circle of yellow lamplight spilled over him.

Feeling quite breathless, Kylie took in Nick’s sturdy physique. A Goliath of a man, he dwarfed the oversize sofa. One of his legs draped over the edge and the other stretched across the length of the couch with his foot jutting over the rolled armrest.

He looked so relaxed and peaceful. Hardly like a man battling demons. Or if Dave’s assumption was correct, a man planning to kill her.

She sighed and then her heart lurched when another gentle snore escaped Nick.

Splaying a hand to her chest, she breathed deep, willing her heart to slow.

Funny, the night before, Nick had stood in the kitchen, gazed into her eyes and told her he cared about her. Now barely twenty-four hours later and only a dozen steps from where he’d said those precious words, she was staring at him and wondering if he was her stalker.

Life stank sometimes.

A single tear trailed down her cheek. She wiped it away. She almost wished the killer would call, just to touch base and let her know he was still out there. Then she’d be sure.

As she willed her phone to ring, more tears filled her eyes. Moments passed, hope shattered. Of course that wasn’t going to happen. Nothing was that easy.

For now she’d keep memories of Nick close to her heart. She would not let her fears keep her from remembering him any other way.

The light of the lamp flickered, signaling her to stop musing and move on.

With her head held high, she walked out into the hallway toward her room, the path in front of her blurred as her tears continued, but she kept going. Tomorrow would be a new day. And no matter what, she would be a survivor.

* * *

Up at sunrise, Nick tightened the last bolt on the rim of the motorcycle tire. Maneuvering around town on a mode of transportation with only two wheels and a storage pouch might be somewhat limiting, but he’d be glad to have the bike working again.

He was getting vibes from Kylie that she wanted some space. Last night proved that.

A complicated situation, especially since the reason he hung around was to protect her.

Nick tossed the screwdriver and ratchet into a toolbox and got to his feet. He wiped grease off his hands with an old rag, then stuffed it in his pocket. He was beginning to feel like a regular motorcycle jock.

Although he envisioned a four-wheel-drive pickup in his future. He might even take Steven shopping with him.

The screen door slammed. Turning, he saw Kylie walk out of the house. She was dressed for work in a black skirt, medium-high heels and a teal sweater.

She looked great. He drew in a breath and released it slowly. A little more time apart might benefit him also.

“You fixed the tire.” Kylie’s eyes widened as she came closer.

“Yep. Up and running.” He fished her keys out of his pocket and pressed them into her hand. “I appreciate the use of your car. Now it’s all yours again.”

A rosy-pink flushed her cheeks. “I hope you didn’t feel like I was rushing you.”

“Nope. I had some time. Now the cycle is ready to ride again.”

She lifted her eyes to his. “I hope your evening went well last night.” Her voice sounded cheery, making him wonder what kind of night she’d had.

A hot date, a new beau in her life? Was new love in the air?

Suddenly he was hot.

Just before he’d dozed off to sleep, the digital display on his phone had showed almost eleven. A late night for someone who worked the next day. Although if she’d lost any winks, it didn’t show.

Squaring his shoulders, he stopped analyzing. He hated when he got ahead of himself.

“It was a good night. Got the stock put up and the store organized. How about you?”

Her head bobbed. “Very nice and relaxing.”

Relaxing?
A stalker was on the loose. Her life was in danger and she was relaxed?

“By the way,” he said, “do you mind telling me who you went out to dinner with? Not that I’m being nosy. I should have asked you last night. I want to keep track of everyone you spend time with.” Okay, he was rambling.

“Taylor Albright.”

Taylor.
His heart slipped, but he recovered swiftly.

“And you know him from church?”

“Her. And yes. We are in the same Sunday school.”

“Taylor is a female?”

“Correct.”

Sometimes it paid to be wrong. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He couldn’t help it.

The trill of Kylie’s cell phone made her jump. She dug in her purse and pulled it out. “Hello,” she mumbled as she placed it to her ear.

A moment passed. Kylie’s eyes went wide, then she gasped.

Nick stood still watching her. The timing was about right for the predator’s next call. The creep would definitely want the world to know that he had been involved in the shoot-out in the basement of the
Asheville Daily News.

“Wonderful. Thank you. I’ll be right there.” Kylie disconnected and clutched the phone to her chest.

Nick lifted a brow.

Kylie blinked up to him. “They found him.”

“They found...the killer?”

She bobbled her head and the green in her eyes shimmered like diamonds.

This day was definitely heading in a better direction.

* * *

They arrived at the morgue. Nick rang the bell and they waited to be buzzed in.

“I’ve never been to a morgue before,” Kylie whispered.

Nick had been in too many. Mostly makeshift shelters on the outskirts of the battle zones. Leaning in, he matched her tone. “You don’t have to whisper. This isn’t a funeral home.”

She nodded and smiled, relief evident on her face. “Okay. I’m just nervous.”

“You’ll do fine.” He’d hold off on his own feelings of relief for the moment. He still wanted to hear the full details of the story.

A technician led them down a long corridor. Gently, he gripped Kylie’s elbow as he walked beside her.

They stopped at a window. Drapes drawn. Dave was already there.

“Are you ready?” The toneless cadence of Dave’s voice, more empty than usual, told Nick the man had been up awhile. This case was taking its toll on everyone.

“Yes,” Kylie breathed.

Nick stood close to her, his arm on her shoulder.

Dave nodded to someone behind him and the draperies slid open, exposing a glass window—the only thing that separated them from the dreary tiled room on the other side. Against the far wall, gurneys were lined up, all empty save one. The body was covered in a sheet.

Kylie pressed even closer to him. The unsure glance she sent him made him glad he was there.

With any luck this nightmare would soon be behind her. Before he could whisper that in her ear, Dave spoke up.

“Okay. Here’s an update on the latest developments. The supervisor from Asheville Regional Hospital called about four this morning. She stated EMS brought in a barely conscious man, a suspected overdose. He was found slumped over the steering wheel of his car on the side of the road. By the time the paramedics got him to the ER, he was close to death. They called a code blue, but couldn’t save him. As the nurses searched his belongings for an ID they found some items in his possession that concerned them. A couple of our officers went to investigate.”