Читать книгу Silent Warning - Kathleen Long - Страница 11

Kelly woke to the sensation of weight at the end of the bed. Something moved alongside her and she struggled to open her eyes. A large gray face purred like an engine, nuzzling her cheek.

Her stomach pitched with the sudden contact and awakening. “Edgar. You scared me half to death.”

She gave him a quick pat on the head and threw off the covers. Grabbing her sweatshirt from the back of the chair, she pulled it over her nightshirt.

“Come on. Let’s figure out how you got in.”

The front door remained closed, locked as she’d left it. As she checked the doorknob, Edgar walked into the kitchen and let out a meow.

“I don’t have anything for you, baby. Sorry. I’ll get you some tuna when I hit the grocery store.”

Kelly trotted down the spiral steps to the lower level. The inner door sat ajar, a sliver of daylight glowing brightly between the wood and the frame.

“Great.” She rubbed her tired eyes. In her exhaustion the night before, she’d never thought to check downstairs when she locked up. “Good thing I’m not at home. The axe murderer would have walked right in.”

Edgar pushed past her, nudging the screen door open. He slipped through, stretching out his back legs before he swaggered down the walk.

Kelly pulled both doors tight and flipped the dead bolt. She trudged up the stairs, deciding Edgar had the right idea. Food was a definite priority.

Twenty minutes later, she’d dressed and headed south toward the shopping area she remembered from her college days. When a supermarket appeared, she zipped into the lot, quickly parking her car and pulling a shopping cart from the cue.

The grocery store was deserted except for a group of senior citizens gathered in the produce section. She supposed everything slowed down once mid-September arrived and tourist season ended.

Scanning each aisle, Kelly tossed only essentials into her cart, choosing just enough to hold her for a day or two. She had no intention of staying in this small town any longer than that.

An end cap piled high with freshly baked chocolate chip cookies beckoned to her. Why not? She reached to pluck a plastic container from the display, starting when a slender hand touched her arm.

“Why are you here?” An elderly woman eyed her quizzically. Short white hair waved gently around her face, her cloudy blue eyes blinking then refocusing on Kelly.

“Pardon me?” Kelly took a step back, thrown off balance by the encounter.

“You don’t belong here. You’re dead.”

Adrenaline spiked in Kelly’s veins. She pulled her arm from the woman’s grasp.

“He killed you.” The woman’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I saw him.”

“Maddie,” a voice called out. “Let’s get you back with the group.”

A young woman sporting wire-rimmed glasses smiled at Kelly, gently taking the woman by the elbow. “I’m sorry. Sometimes she gets confused during our outings.”

Kelly shook her head. “No problem.” Was it a case of confusion? Or had the woman mistaken her for Rachel? Heaven knew, it had been happening for years.

Maddie shrugged off the younger woman’s touch, pointing a bony finger at Kelly.

“He killed you.” Her soft voice sent tremors through Kelly’s bones. “The Candy Man killed you.”

The young woman shook her head, smiling nervously. “I’m very sorry.” She put her arm around Maddie, this time leading her away.

Frozen to the spot, Kelly watched as the old woman turned to waggle a finger in her direction. Kelly’s pulse and thoughts raced at matched speeds. What on earth had just happened? And what had the woman meant?

Rachel had drowned. Right?

Shaking off the encounter as just what the younger woman had said, she turned her attention back to her cart.

The sooner she paid and left, the sooner she’d be able to start packing up Rachel’s things.

DAN SIGHED deeply, rubbing his tired eyes. He scribbled another note onto the pad of paper then scratched a line through the words.

No matter what scenario he used, no matter what theory he tried, the puzzle came back to Rachel. She’d believed something illegal was going on in Summer Shores and had done nothing but gather information during the last weeks of her life. He’d encouraged her every step of the way, urging her to dig deeper.

And now she was dead.

Guilt and doubt tangled inside him. If only he’d been there to take her call. Could he have saved her somehow? He stretched his neck, willing his frustrated brain to work through the mystery of what had happened.

Where were her notes?

He spun his chair to face a wall of framed photos, focusing on his favorite. Diane proudly held a huge bluefish at arm’s length as their mother looked on. Broad grins illuminated both faces.

Dan plucked his coffee mug from the desk and took a long swallow.

His mother and sister. He’d lost them both in a manner of speaking. Diane had drowned two weeks after the picture had been taken. His mother’s mini strokes and her downward spiral into dementia had landed her in the nursing home three months later.

Perhaps fate had taken away his mother’s ability to remember Diane’s inexplicable death, but it hadn’t taken away the thoughts that haunted Dan.

Even though his father had deserted them when he and his sister were young, his mother had never remarried, never loved again. Her obvious heartache had taught him to focus on career, not family. Yet now he found himself faced with a grim reality. His sister was dead because of a drug he’d brought to market, and the vital mother he’d once known was fading away. He’d never be able to recapture the years he’d lost with both.

Dan knew in his heart Diane’s death had been no accident—just as Rachel’s had been no accident. He’d have no peace until he found the truth. All he had to do was piece together the facts—if only he could find them.

Narrowing his focus, he made another notation on the pad, this time circling his writing. He might not have Rachel’s notes to work with, but he had her house—and her friend.

THE MORNING had brightened by the time Kelly finished unpacking the groceries. She poured a fresh cup of coffee and headed for Rachel’s work area, banishing all thoughts of her unsettling grocery store trip to the recesses of her brain.

She walked into the bedroom and sat her mug on Rachel’s desk. Pulling open the French doors to let in the autumn breeze, she inhaled the moist air, pungent with the scent of the bay and marsh grasses. She tipped her face to the sun, letting the warmth permeate her skin.

How sad that Rachel would never feel the sun’s warmth or the brush of a damp sea breeze against her face again. Why had Kelly been so stubborn about a reconciliation? Oh, who was she kidding? She’d learned from the best. Her parents had taken every grudge they’d ever held to their graves.

She forced herself to concentrate on Rachel’s desk. Maybe taking care of the loose ends would help ease the guilt in her heart.

Kelly sank into the chair and pulled open the file drawer. Neatly labeled colored folders lined the hanging file frame. Rachel had always had an amazing work ethic—driven to the brink of obsession, actually. Had it gotten her killed?

No. Kelly shook her head. That thought came solely from the ramblings of the woman in the grocery store. Her words had no basis in reality.

Refocusing her attention, Kelly pulled a file labeled Outstanding Queries and spread it open on the desk. In alphabetical order by target market, the letters ranged from one for Family Circle to one for the Washington Post.

Kelly turned back to the drawer, fingering through the remaining folders. Working articles. Someone needed to tell these editors their articles weren’t going to make deadline.

One by one, Kelly pulled each contact number and placed the call. An hour later she was done, returning each folder to its place in the drawer.

A knock sounded at the front door and she jumped, her stomach tilting sideways. Chicken. The woman in the grocery store had made more of an impression than she cared to admit.

She padded down the hall and pulled open the inner door. Dan Steele stood on the other side of the locked screen door, leaning against the doorjamb, the sharp line of his jaw set with even more intensity than it had been the day before. Shadows tinged the skin beneath his eyes, but the blue heat of his gaze coiled Kelly’s stomach into a tight knot.

“You again.” She frowned.

He held up his hands. “Let’s start over.”

She narrowed her eyes.

He swept one arm in a grand gesture. “Welcome to North Carolina.”

Kelly glared at him, not sure how to answer his statement. “Back for another look?”

His features tensed, his expression growing serious. “Actually, yes.”

“Forget it.” Kelly moved to close the door.

Dan leaned his forehead against the screen. He might look like an expectant child with his face plastered against an ice-cream parlor window, but Kelly knew better.

“It’s imperative I explain something to you about Rachel.”

Kelly eyed him carefully, her curiosity getting the best of her. “Like what?”

“Let me in and I’ll tell you.”

“I can hear you just fine through that locked door.”

She met his stare, angling her chin determinedly.

“Fair enough.” He straightened.

He stood easily taller than six feet, his presence commanding. His brown hair tumbled carelessly, as if he had just run a strong hand through the short strands. Kelly’s gaze followed the drape of his navy sweatshirt to the trim fit of his khaki shorts. Her pulse quickened at the sight of his bare, muscular legs. One thing was for certain. The man was in some serious physical shape.

The breeze picked up, washing Dan’s clean scent past her into the house. Every one of Kelly’s nerve endings snapped to attention. She hugged herself, glad to have the door between her stirring attraction and the man who’d inspired the unwanted response.

The last man who’d evoked such a visceral reaction had turned out to be anything but what he’d first seemed. She had no intention of repeating the mistake.

“I need you to listen carefully.”

The ferocity of Dan’s gaze startled her, capturing her full attention. “I’m listening.”

“I met Rachel when she interviewed me about my sister.”

“Your sister?”

Dan nodded. “She died of a drug overdose last year, and Rachel was doing a piece on the same drug. Oxygesic.”

A momentary shadow passed across his face, but he continued, “My sister was an athlete. She’d never take that drug knowingly.”

Kelly said nothing, riveted by the man on the other side of the door.

“I need Rachel’s notes.” He stepped close to the screen, erasing any space between them. “You need to let me search this house.”

She considered his request, scouring his face for any sign he might be lying. She found none. “I already went through her files.”

Dan’s eyes widened.

Kelly shook her head. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing on Oxy…Oxy…”

“Oxygesic.” Disappointment darkened his gaze. “That makes no sense. A friend of hers died high on the stuff. Crashed a car into a pole. Rachel was obsessed with that story.”

“What kind of drug is it?”

Hope flickered across his features. “A time-released opiate.”

“Opiate?”

“Painkiller.”

Kelly blinked, confused. “Did her friend take too many?”

“Maybe not.” Dan stared deeply into her eyes, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her core. “Sometimes it only takes one.”

Kelly took a step back, wanting to put a bit of distance between her and this man’s determination. “Is it a controlled substance?”

He nodded, his expression grim. “It’s not difficult to get illegally, unfortunately.”

“How?”

“Sometimes it’s a crooked doctor writing phony prescriptions.” Anger flashed through his eyes. “Sometimes it’s a crooked pharmacist.”

It was evident Dan had decided on the latter. “You think it’s a pharmacist?”

“Guy named Miller.”

“How would he get away with it?”

His voice dropped low, intense. “That’s what I need to find out.”

Thoughts and questions raced through Kelly’s mind. “I’m still not understanding how this drug can kill someone unless they take too many.”

Dan’s gaze wavered momentarily as if he wasn’t quite ready to answer her question. When he spoke again, he did so slowly.

“The drug is time-released, meant to be swallowed. If you chew the tablet, you experience a rush. Some people stop breathing.”

“Like your sister?”

“Supposedly. The coroner said her heart failed while she was swimming. The Oxygesic was already in her system.”

“And you don’t believe it?”

“Call it a brother’s hunch, but no.” His gaze roamed her face, trailing hot paths across her skin as if he were searching for a sign she believed him. “Rachel left a message on my machine saying she’d found something unbelievable. She didn’t want to talk on the phone. I never heard from her again.”

Kelly’s breath caught. “You believe Rachel’s death had something to do with the story?”

He nodded, the muscles of his jaw clenching tight.

They stood in silence for several long moments, eyes locked. Kelly fought the urge to look away, entranced by the depth of emotion evident in Dan’s gaze.

What if he was right? Didn’t Rachel deserve for the truth to be uncovered? No matter what had happened between them, if Kelly had been the one who died, Rachel would have left no stone unturned in her quest for the truth.

Kelly scrutinized the man before her, realizing she’d never seen anyone more sure of what he believed. Unlatching the screen door, she pushed it open. “Maybe I missed something. Why don’t we look together?”

A few moments later, Dan patted the computer monitor in Rachel’s bedroom. “Did you check this?” He squinted, his suntanned skin crinkling into fine lines around his eyes.

Kelly dragged her attention from his appealing features to the computer. “Not yet. I’ve only been through her filing cabinet.”

She sank into the chair as Dan powered on the machine. A welcome screen flashed a box for password entry.

“Any ideas?” Dan leaned close. Kelly stole a glance at the strong angular lines of his profile, mentally chastising herself. So the guy had a good story; the reality was she didn’t know him from Adam.

“Actually, yes.” She typed in a single word. Nellie.

The screen instantly displayed the operating system’s start up page.

“Nellie?” Incredulity tinged Dan’s tone.

“Nellie Bly. First woman reporter,” Kelly explained. “Rachel’s idol.” And one heck of a lucky guess.

Within seconds they both stared at the screen, scanning the list of files on Rachel’s system. Kelly was just losing hope when her gaze landed on two words. Black market.

“Whoa.” Dan spoke at the same instant. “That has to be it.”

DAN WATCHED as Kelly scrolled back, double-clicking the title. He held his breath as the document opened, trying to ignore the creamy expanse of her neck just inches away. She’d swept her long, auburn hair up into some sort of clip, and if he weren’t so intent on finding Rachel’s notes, he might find the sight distracting.

Okay. Truth was, the woman was very distracting, but he’d promised himself a long time ago to avoid matters of the heart. He’d listened to his mother cry behind her closed bedroom door enough to know true love was nothing more than a myth. Besides, all he cared about right now were the words on the screen.

“Frank Jones. Virginian-Pilot,” Kelly read out loud, curiosity palpable in her voice as she skimmed the query letter. “I didn’t find an acceptance letter for this one.” She twisted in the chair, her rich brown gaze jolting Dan’s senses. “Maybe she never got the assignment.”

“Or maybe someone got to her notes but not to her computer files.” Satisfaction filled him. He’d been right all along.

Kelly dialed Information then rang the newspaper’s switchboard. She whispered she’d been put into Frank Jones’s voice mail as she listened.

“All we can do is wait.” Dan shrugged a few moments later as she set the receiver back in its cradle.

The phone rang within seconds, the shrill ring startling them both. Hope uncoiled in Dan’s gut.

Kelly answered the call then frowned. “My sister,” she mouthed.

Disappointment washed through him as he moved away to give her space. No matter. Sooner or later, Jones would return their call, and he’d be one step closer to the truth.

He watched a myriad of expressions play across Kelly’s face as she spoke to her sister.

“Open it,” she said, her features growing tense. She shot him a confused look and his breath caught at the uncertainty in her gaze.

She’d been nothing but cool since the moment she’d first found him in the house, but right now, at this moment, a glimpse of the vulnerable woman within shone through.

“A post office key?” Kelly’s voice grew tight, climbing up at least two octaves. “She didn’t enclose any sort of note?”

He watched as her frown deepened the soft lines that framed her wide-spaced brown eyes. There was an intensity to the woman that intrigued him, a hint of a past pain or secret she kept carefully tucked away.

She hung up the phone and dragged a hand through her hair.

Concern eased through him, and he stepped close. “You all right?”

Kelly visibly started, as if the question had taken her by surprise. She nodded. “Rachel sent me a post office key. My sister’s overnighting it down.”

KELLY COULDN’T HELP but admire the light that sparked to life in Dan’s vibrant, blue stare when she explained her sister’s call. His intensity and determination were characteristics to admire, and to watch.

Her ex-fiancé had taught her all about driven men—ones who stopped at nothing to get their way. Was Dan Steele cut from the same cloth?

He stood close, leaning his full weight against the desktop, eyes wide. “Let’s hope it yields her notes.” He straightened his features, as if consciously working to hide his hope. With a slap of his palm against the wooden desk, he turned toward the door. “We’ll know tomorrow.”

The suddenness of his movements took Kelly by surprise. “Should I call you when the key gets here?”

“FedEx guy hits town by nine-thirty most mornings. I’ll see you then.”

She listened as the door slammed shut behind him, assuring herself she’d made the right decision to believe his story. Packing, however, had lost its appeal.

She connected to the Internet using the remote number from her own account. Now was as good a time as any to study up on Oxygesic. It couldn’t hurt to know exactly what she was getting herself into.

In the middle of downloading the fourth article she’d found, Frank Jones returned her call.

He confirmed Rachel had been working on an Oxygesic story, yet even more intriguing was his question regarding Rachel’s notebook. A crazy looking thing with butterflies all over it. According to Jones, he’d never seen her without it.

Kelly leaned against the chair back after she hung up, rubbing her hands over her face then massaging her temples. Exhaustion seeped into her every muscle.

Rachel had loved to make lists and notes. Always had. So where would she leave a notebook? Kelly searched the house from top to bottom. Between sofa cushions. Under mattresses. Behind chairs. In drawers. In closets. Finally, she retreated to the porch empty-handed, dropping into a rocker.

A gull flew past and landed on the roof of her car. Of course. Kelly raced into the house and dialed Information. She should have thought of this before. The notebook had probably been left in Rachel’s car.

“Sheriff’s office,” a clipped female voice answered.

Less than a minute later, Kelly winced at the buzz of the dial tone in her ear. Apparently small towns not only took care of their own, they also didn’t talk to outsiders. The woman had dismissed her by simply explaining Rachel’s effects had been forwarded to her family.

Kelly dialed the phone once more. Rachel’s brother answered on the third ring.

“Jim, it’s Kelly.”

“Kelly.” He sounded exhausted and she hoped she hadn’t called at a bad time—as if there could be a good time when you’d just lost your sister. “Is everything okay?” he asked. “How’s the packing going?”

“I’m off to a slow start.” She took her time, wanting to choose her words carefully. “I needed to ask you something.”

“The rent’s paid through to the end of the month,” he interrupted. “So don’t worry about taking your time.”

Kelly squeezed her eyes shut and continued, “Jim, I’m not calling about the house. I spoke with the police and I understand the coroner has given his final determination.”

“She drowned.” His friendly tone evaporated, growing strained.

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

Silence.

“Jim?”

“The toxicology report showed drugs in her system, Kelly. It’s been a great shock.”

Kelly sat stunned for a moment. “She never used drugs,” she said, realizing she sounded just like Dan talking about his sister.

“I don’t think the results would lie.” A tired sigh whispered across the line. “The family would like to keep this quiet.”

“Understood.” Alarm bells screamed inside Kelly’s head. “Did you know she was doing a story about the very thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Rachel was investigating an illegal drug ring. That’s the reason I called. Did the police forward a notebook to you?”

“A notebook?”

“Covered with butterflies.”

“No. Look, Kelly, my sister’s dead. That’s all I can deal with right now.”

She’d pushed too hard. “Forgive me.”

“No problem. I’ve got to go.”

“Jim?” She took a deep breath, gathering her courage for one last question. “May I ask what kind of drug showed up in her system?”

“An opiate.”

Kelly’s mouth went dry. A time-released opiate. Dan’s explanation bounced around her brain. “Could they tell the specific type?”

“We didn’t request additional tests. What difference would it make?”

“I understand. I’m sorry, I—”

“The police did say one more thing.” His words cut her short.

“Yes?” She straightened, holding her breath.

“They thought it might be something called Oxygesic. Apparently it’s real popular up in those parts.”