Читать книгу Smoky Mountain Investigation - Annslee Urban - Страница 11

TWO

At Milkweed Café in downtown Asheville, Kylie gazed at Nick from across the table. He was tall and lean, with a Go Army black T-shirt stretched across his wide shoulders and chest. He looked so mature. Strong features, chiseled just right, and his eyes a deep brown as rich as the cola he was drinking.

As handsome as she dared to remember.

This Delta Force captain left no one in doubt of his capabilities.

A warm comfort swept over her. She still felt safe in his presence.

Nick took a drink and set the glass on the table. “Do you really think this murder is related to Conrad’s?” His deltoid muscles bulged slightly as he eased back into his seat.

Biting the inside of her lip, Kylie shrugged. “That’s the question I keep asking myself. The man on the phone said that he was there the night Conrad died. Although it seems odd—silence for ten years and then...this.”

“Could be a copycat.” Nick crossed his arms against his sturdy chest. “If so, this butcher has done his research and probably knows as much about the crime as we do. Or more.”

“That’s true. I just wish he hadn’t involved me.”

Nick chuckled. “Journalists do attract flakes.”

“Flakes I can handle.” She nodded. “But murderers—”

“You know—” Nick cut her off, sat forward and looked at her, suspicion skewing his features. “In all likelihood, you know this guy.”

Her spine prickled. “What?”

“The murderer. He knew your cell number and that you’d be at the airport. Even knew what time.”

Kylie shivered. The very thought made her skin crawl. “I hadn’t even considered that.”

Nick’s dark brows drew closer. “Who knew you’d be at the airport tonight?”

Leaning on her elbows, she mentally ticked off everyone who might have known her plans to drop off her sister. Her chest tightened at the results. “There’s too many to name. I left work early, so most of my colleagues were aware. Shannon and I went to a church social last night. Lots of people asked when she and the baby were leaving.”

“You never could hide much in this small town.” Nick nodded. “Except possibly murder.”

A boulder-size knot formed in Kylie’s stomach. “I can’t imagine anyone I know being capable of such a terrible crime. Not now or ten years ago.” She dropped her voice several octaves.

Nick touched her arm, sending shivers of a different manner across her skin. “Kylie, predators aren’t obvious. Believe me, I’ve met my share. Sometimes it’s who you’d least expect.”

* * *

The strained expression in Kylie’s eyes ignited a deep burn in Nick’s chest. Breathing deep, the scent of her perfume filtered into his nostrils. Something sweet and subtle. A hundred percent intriguing.

A hundred percent Kylie.

His heart gave a solid kick against his ribs. A few minutes with this woman and already he’d ventured onto dangerous ground. He broke eye contact with her and forced his mixed-up emotions to quiet.

Their dreams of a life together had blown apart with the tragedy at Camp Golden Rock. After that, Nick could barely live with himself, let alone offer anything to Kylie. He’d needed to get away from Asheville, start fresh with nothing to hold him back.

He swirled the liquid in his glass, the ice clinking. An impulsive decision.

But a mistake? He’d never know that for sure.

Now that he was back, one look into Kylie’s eyes and long-buried emotions sparked to life. A jolt of remembered love, but also a tug in his chest that reminded him that those days were over.

The past was behind them. They were older now. Wiser. They had both moved on in very different directions.

The waitress walked by. He held up his hand to catch her attention. “May I get a refill, please?”

The woman nodded and he glanced at Kylie. “Would you like anything? You barely touched your coffee.”

Kylie shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

Though concern shadowed her eyes, her voice came across confident.

Nick’s gut clenched. Seeing her unsettled and worried, his protective instincts surged. The events at the airport had been horrific enough. He shouldn’t have voiced his opinions so quickly. He mentally kicked himself for adding more distress to her day.

The need to comfort her rose. “Don’t rack your brain trying to figure this guy out. He may not be anyone you know. Right now, facts don’t support any theory.” He covered his own concerns with a grin.

A glint of relief entered her eyes. She nodded. “Thanks, that makes me feel better.”

Good. Now if only he could convince himself.

Quiet fell between them. And then Kylie settled back in her chair. “Enough talk about murder. I’d like to give my brain a break, at least until I get home. I have an article due by four.”

He glanced at his watch. Nearly ten o’clock. “Do you need to leave and get started?”

She raked her hand through her long hair, tousling her curls further. “No, I’m fine.”

“Well, then, tell me how you’ve been.” He asked the question that had crossed his mind often over the past ten years.

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” Nick nodded and folded his arms, enjoying the view a little too much. Although appreciating a woman’s beauty wasn’t a crime. Even if she was his ex-girlfriend.

Kylie fell silent and picked up her cup and drank deeply from it.

Nick reclined against the seat back, his gaze resting on her as he waited. She must have quite a story to tell. He might be sorry he asked.

* * *

After a moment, Kylie set down her cup with a clink. Ever since high school, her life had gone by in a blur—at least in the romance department, as her parents so readily liked to point out. As if having a husband would solve the world’s problems or create a life of happily ever after. That fairy tale had died a long time ago. Thanks to Nick Bentley.

A sigh crawled up her throat. She swallowed it back. No telling how many relationships Nick had been involved in since they’d split up.

Not that it should matter. She picked up a napkin and dabbed the sides of her mouth. He no longer had any effect on her. She met his eyes, the tenderness in his dark gaze unmistakable. A tingle rippled along her spine.

Okay, maybe a little.

“I’m waiting.” Nick’s gaze sharpened on her face, which she feared was now blushing crimson.

She cleared her throat and spoke. “Well, I attended college at UNC Asheville and graduated with a degree in journalism. And, as you know, I work at the Asheville Daily News.” She folded her hands on the table. “What about you?”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Hey, not so fast.”

She blinked and then swallowed. “That’s about it. Really.”

He arched a dark brow. “No wedding bells or kids?”

She shook her head no.

This time both eyebrows lifted. “No special someone in your life?”

Not anymore. “Nope.”

His smoldering gaze warmed her deep inside. Nick hadn’t changed. He never settled for elusive. Always wanted the whole story and never gave in until he got it—well, except after Conrad’s murder. Her heart squeezed. After that he’d seemed to lose interest in everything. Including her. She took another drink of coffee, bitter against her suddenly dry throat.

Nick ran his hands over his close-cropped hair. “Wow, I thought you’d be married by now. A house. A couple kids.”

At one time she would have expected the same. “I’m only twenty-eight. Not quite an old maid. Although my parents might disagree.”

Nick laughed fully this time, a rumble as deep as a chasm, and charming dimples dented his cheeks. Her heart skipped a beat. “No, I wouldn’t put you in the old-maid category yet. By the way, how are your parents?”

“Enjoying retirement in Florida. My sister and her family joined them last year.”

“And you? Any plans to go?”

“No. Asheville is home. I love it here.”

“That’s what I thought.” He grimaced.

An awful coldness seeped through her, filtering out into her extremities. Nick was still running from the past. Ten long years hadn’t changed that.

Breathing deep, Kylie strove not to let her emotions show. She leaned forward, propped her elbow on the edge of the table and rested her chin in her hand. “Now, tell me about you.”

“Well.” He shrugged. “I’m in town to help out with the family hardware store until Steven is back on his feet. He took it over a few years back when my parents retired and moved to Charlotte to care for my grandfather.”

“That’s right. I heard Steven had been in an accident.”

“Yep. Fell off a bicycle. He rode off a trail trying to impress some new girlfriend with his agile riding skills. Tumbled about twenty feet before briar bushes cushioned his fall.”

Kylie winced. “Not much of a cushion.”

Nick shook his head. “No, not hardly. He broke his left femur and ankle, dislocated his shoulder, and worst of all, the girlfriend ditched him.”

“So sorry.”

“Kind of ironic.” He chuckled. “I’ve dodged bullets in the heaviest war zones in the world and he almost kills himself falling off a bike.”

“I’m sure you’re not going to let him forget that.”

Another chuckle. “No way.”

She hated to ask, but she did. “Any special someone in your life?”

When Nick paused, her heart gave an irrational thump. Her rotten day took another nosedive. Kylie picked up her drink and took a sip, feigning nonchalance. She wanted to be apathetic about Nick, distanced from the pain of a teenager’s broken heart. Whatever infatuation they’d shared had died along with Conrad. It was time to grow up and move—

“No one special,” he finally blurted.

Her heart danced in her chest. She looked up and caught him staring at her. His firm mouth twitched into a smile, deepening the glint in his rich dark eyes.

Heat rose up Kylie’s neck. She hoped he couldn’t read her mind. She managed a stiff smile. “Well, there’s still time. You’re not over-the-hill yet, either.” Crazy to even care.

Silence stretched between them.

She set down her cup and leaned a fraction closer, ready to change the conversation to something less personal. “Tell me about the army.”

“The army.” Nick smiled slightly. Settling back in his seat, he linked his hands behind his head. “Let’s see. I served ten years. During that time, I witnessed too much war, too much destruction and too much death.”

Images of recent news-broadcast footage assembled in Kylie’s mind. Her heartbeat stumbled. She couldn’t believe Nick had been in the middle of that. “Delta Forces, I hear. Pretty intense?”

He nodded his head. “Could be. Even brutal at times. But good came out of it. Lives were saved.”

Admiration for his commitment filled her chest. “Will you be going back?”

“Nope. I’ve done my time.”

Kylie smiled; she couldn’t help it. “Well, you’re quite the hero around here.”

“Hero.” Nick straightened in his chair. His jovial expression turned stormy. “Hero is the last thing I’ll ever be around here.”

* * *

“The story is yours, Kylie.” Max shifted his stance and pulled open the file drawer.

“But Doug Landers is ready to jump in.” Kylie fought off a sigh. “At the moment, I can’t even differentiate between facts and emotions.”

Max pulled several folders from the cabinet and shut the drawer with a clink. “Use it to your advantage. Make the story real. Passion, pain, every emotion will bleed through the pages and grip the readers.”

Great. Kylie exhaled, blowing out slowly. “Reporters are supposed to be objective, Max, not part of the story. I’ll be happy to consult, edit Doug’s draft and even give an interview.”

“It’s yours, Kylie.” Max tossed the files on his desk. “Keep it real. Keep it fresh. Keep it coming. Hopefully, the madman will call again.”

“Uh, thanks. But once was plenty.”

“By the way, I contacted the Asheville police this morning. They’ve got some newsworthy facts waiting for you.”

“Wonderful.” Kylie turned and plodded out the door, praying for patience and a speedy resolution to this murder.

She headed outside and into the bright afternoon sunshine. Max was even crazier than usual. Hoping the killer would call again. She shivered at the thought.

Kylie was still wrestling with annoyance when she parked in front of the municipal building. She pulled her notepad from her satchel and got out of the car. Taking a deep breath, she hiked up her chin and squared her shoulders. Okay. She could do this. She segued into reporter mode, forcing her attention from all discomforting thoughts. If she had to do this assignment, she’d give it her best. She hiked her purse higher on her shoulder and walked into the building.

In the main lobby, she checked in with the clerk and wound her way down the first-floor hall, which teemed with attorneys and their clients, catching snatches of agitated conversation on her way to the elevator. She stepped in and punched the button to the fourth floor. The elevator started to rise, lurched, then ground to a halt. The lights blinked off.

Blackness filled Kylie’s view. Okay. She ordered herself to stay calm. She dug into her purse and captured her phone. With the touch of her finger the cell fired up. She used it as a light to locate the panel of buttons on the wall. She punched four. Nothing. Then she flipped the emergency switch. Same.

Drumming her fingers against the side of her thigh, she waited. Auxiliary power should kick on any moment. Several long moments passed.

She punched the floor button again. Gears screeched, the car rattled, no other movement.

If maintenance was affected by the recent city budget cuts, she was quickly becoming a proponent for higher taxes.

Kylie inhaled, the air already stuffy. She fumbled to punch 911 on her phone and held it to her ear. Silence. No service.

With all the people in the building, maintenance had to have been notified by now. Reasonable thoughts, which rapidly deteriorated with each passing second.

“Anytime now.” She spoke to the emptiness around her.

Lights blinked on.

“Thank you.” She drew in a breath of relief.

The elevator edged up one floor before slamming to a halt, knocking Kylie off-balance. With arms flailing, she reached for the handrail to steady herself, but the car lurched again, the force so great that her feet went out from under her. She went down hard, her bare knees smashing into the floor. Darkness blinded her again.

Lord, I’m getting nervous here. Kylie picked herself up. Clenching the handrail with one hand, she used the other to smooth her skirt.

Pain searing through her, she grabbed for a calming breath.

Music trickled into the car and broke the silence. Eerie and empty as the air around her.

Her heartbeat picked up. For a breathless second, the horror of the previous night suffocated all logic. Never more than a heartbeat away...

The caller’s words ripped through her mind. Panic bottled in her chest, making it hard to breathe. Was he close by? Could he be watching her?

Calm down. She forced her breathing to slow. She’d watched too many old episodes of The Twilight Zone with her sister.

A jolt, then emergency lights flickered on, casting a dull glow around her. The elevator started to rise, steadily ascending, passing the third floor, then the fourth. Kylie stared at the glowing numbers, willing the car to stop. It didn’t matter where, she was getting off.

Halfway between the fifth and sixth floors, the elevator stalled.

Patience evaporated, Kylie slammed her fingers into the buttons on the panel. The elevator inched upward.

Please, Lord, help me get out of here.

She pressed her back into the corner of the car, bracing herself and whispering prayers as her fingers white-knuckled the wooden handrail. She held her breath. A second passed. A pulley squealed. The elevator made a rapid descent, whizzing down the shaft. She closed her eyes, teeth gritted, her pulse thumping steadily in her ears.

Just when she thought all hope was gone, the car stopped and bounced. A scream caught in her throat, shock and fear rising as she lurched forward.

For a frozen moment, Kylie regained her breath and flipped the emergency switch again. Lights flashed for a half second before darkness shrouded her.

“Help!” She startled at the shrill echo of her voice.

Stay calm. Short breaths billowed from her lungs. One moment. Two—not working. “Help me!” She pounded on the wall. “Somebody get me out of here!”

Lights flickered on. The elevator started to ascend. She slumped against the wall again and watched as the blinking numbers above the door rose. Two. Three. Four. The lumbering machine finally ground to a jittery stop. As the heavy doors screeched open, she burst out and collided with a broad uniformed chest.

After a stunned moment, Kylie grasped the situation. She inched back and lifted her gaze. A pair of amused blue eyes stared back at her.

“Hello, Kylie. Are you okay?”

“The elevator.” She gestured behind her before slapping a trembling hand against her rapidly beating chest. “I was trapped. No lights. The elevator stalled, then fell—” She ran out of breath before finishing.

A wrinkle formed between Detective Dave Michelson’s eyes. “Security called about someone stuck between floors. You must have been the one screaming.”

Several other officers stood around him. With shrugs and mumbles, the group dispersed.

Half embarrassed, half relieved, Kylie nodded, and a breath flitted between her teeth.

“I’ve never been trapped in an elevator before,” she mumbled, for a lack of anything better to say.

“It happens sometimes.” Dave scratched beside his nose. “Probably just an electrical malfunction. The maintenance crew is already looking into it.”

Just a malfunction? She forced a nod, her heart still racing.

The day was not shaping up as she’d hoped.