“I really shouldn’t,” she said, smiling for the first time in weeks. “But just this once, I will.”
Chapter 10
At the registration desk, Holly and Liam were given key cards for their room. It was on the third of four floors. Yet to call it a room didn’t give justice to their accommodations. It was a suite, complete with two bedrooms, a well-stocked wet bar and minifridge, a fireplace in the living area, which just so happened to be larger than the living room in Holly’s home. The furniture was butter-soft leather in dove gray and navy blue. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the Rocky Mountains and the cloudless Wyoming sky.
“Wow,” said Holly as she set her purse on the bar. “These are some swanky digs.”
“RMJ definitely didn’t spare any expenses, that’s for sure,” said Liam.
Two bedrooms sat at opposite sides of the suite. One, had a king-size bed, complete with a master bath. There were two twin beds in the other.
“It looks like they delivered the luggage,” said Holly. She stood on the threshold of the master bedroom. Her bag sat on the bed, right next to Liam’s. A quivering rose from the pit of her stomach at the possibility of sharing a bed with Liam. “What should we do?”
“You can keep the master bedroom. I’ll take the spare.”
Holly nodded her agreement. His plan made complete sense, yet there was an unexpected twinge of disappointment. Taking the clothes from her bag, Holly placed them in the provided dresser. After setting up her toiletries in the bathroom, she returned to the living room.
Liam stood at the window.
She moved to stand next to him. The Rocky Mountains rose in the distance, the peaks still covered in snow. “Everything about this place is impressive,” she said. “Even the view.”
“Yes, it is.”
What was wrong with his tone? He almost sounded angry. From the corner of her vision, she studied Liam’s profile. His nose was straight and his jaw strong. Dark eyebrows covered eyes the color of the forest—green, brown and gold. He almost seemed to be the vestige of a bygone era, and it made Holly mourn for a past that she never knew.
In the distance, she could see the one of the greens of the golf course—the flag for the hole fluttered in the breeze. The paddock, complete with several horses, was just to the left. A roan mare trotted to the fence.
“I think I’ve discovered something important. I can’t tell just yet exactly what it is—I’ve got to dig a little.”
“Tell me,” she suggested.
Liam glanced at Holly before turning his gaze back to the window. “I overheard a doctor and security guard discussing a break-in at the resort infirmary.”
“Some medications can be sold on the street for a lot of money,” said Holly. “You might have found a trail to follow. But I’m not sure what that has to do with anything, especially a serial killer.”
“True,” he said.
“Talk to me. Tell me everything you know about Darcy,” said Holly. She was part of the team because of the book she wrote—albeit, it was many years ago. “Marcus and Wyatt gave me a little background, but if you can flesh her out for me, maybe I can come up with a new angle for the investigation.”
“I have a limited case file in my bag,” said Liam.
He disappeared into the spare bedroom and returned moments later with a laptop in hand. He set the computer on the table and turned on the power.
While opening a file, Liam asked, “What do you know about Darcy?”
“Other than what I’ve gotten from the media and Marcus, not much.”
“I’ll keep it succinct. Darcy has been killing men for years. All of her victims have a similar look—blond hair, blue eyes, handsome. She meets them for drinks, or so we assume. They consume too much alcohol, then she gives them something toxic. After that, she takes them to the middle of nowhere and leaves them for dead.”
“Any idea why she kills? The motivations for her murders are going to be the key to what she does next.”
Liam spoke while scrolling through the document “The theory is that she was abused by her father.” He continued, coming to the final page. “Darcy was shot in the shoulder while trying to escape after killing Carl Haak.”
“I knew that,” she said. “He’s the former sheriff of Pleasant Pines.” She didn’t add, and was a friend to my parents.
“Exactly.”
Holly let out a long breath. “I hate to say it, but this case file doesn’t help me much.”
“I was afraid of that. If you want, I’ll ask Wyatt for more information. See what he’s willing to share.”
“What do we do until then?”
Liam removed a cell phone from his pocket. “I guess we’ll have to go through the resort and take pictures of as many people as possible.”
“Just pictures?”
“This has facial recognition software,” said Liam. “We need to verify identities. See if there are unknown connections to Darcy Owens, or reasons why a person might lie to the police about knowing the killer.”
Holly faked a shiver. “Sounds like spy-novel stuff. I’m game, but let me grab a coat,” she said while turning from the table. Her fingertips brushed against Liam’s arm and yet, she didn’t pull away. The muscles of his biceps were unmistakable. She was drawn to the heat of him. The question was, how close could Holly get before she got burned? “Sorry,” she whispered, as she stepped from the table...and Liam.
He reached for her, his hand on her elbow stopping her retreat. “Why are you sorry?” he asked.
She looked at Liam. Surely, he wouldn’t want a woman like Holly. Wasn’t Sophie’s mother in the navy? A woman of action, just as he was a man of action? Holly was, well...a planner. An arranger. Not a woman who took charge at all.
If she was, she might not be in this situation.
“I didn’t mean to touch you,” she said, dropping her gaze. “It was an accident.”
“You don’t need to apologize about that,” he said. His voice was deep, a rumble of thunder coming from a stormy sky. He moved closer, his breath warming her shoulder. “I’m not sorry.”
“Shouldn’t we be professional?” asked Holly, her pulse racing.
“Why?”
“I think it’s for the best. Don’t you?”
“No,” he said. “I want to talk about us.”
“There is no us,” said Holly.
“It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“Yes,” she said, jerking her arm from his grasp. “It does.”
Liam touched his fingertips to Holly’s chin. Tilting her head up, so she met him in the eyes, he said, “Tell me there’s no chemistry between us.”
Holly’s mouth went dry. She licked her lips. Liam moved closer.
“Tell me you don’t want to kiss me.”
She only saw his lips—they were so enticing. “I don’t want to kiss you,” she said.
“Liar.”
“You don’t want the truth.”
“Try me,” Liam said.
“I have a plan for my life,” said Holly. “I want to keep Saplings open. That’s the only reason I’m here with you. To me, this is a job.”
Liam’s hand slid from her chin. “That was harsh,” he said.
“You asked for the truth,” said Holly. All the same, she wanted him to insist—to push a little harder. If he asked once more for a kiss, she’d never be able to hold back.
Holly turned back to the table. She watched him from the side of her eye.
She wanted to say something. But what?
Without a word, he walked away.
Exhaling, Holly dropped into a chair. She knew that she needed to be honest with Liam. She wasn’t interested in a relationship and it was wrong to let him think anything different. Yet, if she’d done the right thing, why did she feel like she’d just made a h
uge mistake?
* * *
Hand in hand, for the sake of the operation, Liam and Holly walked through the lobby. A group of women stood in front of the fireplace.
Holly leaned in close. She wore a polar fleece jacket that turned her cheeks the color of a ripe peach. Her jeans hugged her hips and rear. Her scent, vanilla and roses, wafted over him and Liam’s pulse spiked.
“I’ll pose near the women and you take my picture,” she said, her voice a whisper. “Hopefully, it’s enough for facial recognition.”
Lifting that phone with the recognition software to his eye, Liam shifted the aspect to focus on the gathered women. He snapped several pictures. He stopped, figuring he’d gotten enough. Yet, with a wide smile, Holly stared at the camera. There was no reason to capture her image, yet he did.
“Give me a second to run these pictures through the app,” he muttered to Holly.
“Sure thing. I’ll wander around for a minute.”
Liam watched her walk away. She looked as good from the back as she did from the front. Yet, her rebuke from only moments ago was still fresh and echoed in his ears. I have a plan for my life, she had said. I want to keep Saplings open. That’s the only reason I’m here with you. For me, it’s a job.
Holly had made it painfully clear that to her, he was nothing more than a means to an end. Yet, what was she to him?
Staring out over the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, Liam realized that the only reason he’d accepted this assignment was Holly. He knew that Marcus Jones was desperate to find any connection to Darcy Owens and he would spare no expense in bringing her to justice. Holly needed money, and Liam could get it for her. If not for that fact, Liam would never have left Sophie at home—even with a competent sitter.
Returning his attention to the camera, he scrolled to the first photograph. Liam entered the woman’s visage into the embedded software. A red light flashed—no connection found to Darcy’s known history. He repeated the routine for each person. Nada.
Next, he sent electronic copies to his coworkers. Marcus and Wyatt had more powerful equipment at the mobile headquarters, and would be able to confirm identities more thoroughly. Stopping at the final photograph, he stared at Holly’s image. Her smile was contagious, and Liam’s lips twitched.
“You ready?” she asked.
Liam slipped the phone into his pocket as his face warmed and sweat collected at the base of his neck. He felt as if he’d been caught doing something wrong...and perhaps he had. Holly had been clear. She didn’t want a relationship, and especially not with him. Why torture himself by continuing to think about it?
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “There’s something I want to show you.”
Together, Liam and Holly walked down a cobbled path. A hill rose to their right.
“I told you that my family used to live around here.”
“Sure,” she said. “Gunslingers. Pioneers. Settlers from before Wyoming was a state.”
“My family isn’t just from Wyoming. We’re actually from this land.” Pointing to a ridge, he said, “There used to be several homes up there, built so close that they were nearly one on top of the next. As an adult, I know that my mother’s family was poor. As a kid, I never noticed. During visits, I just played with my cousins and stole melons from my great-aunt’s garden.” Pointing to an outcropping of rock, he continued, “My sister and I used to jump off those stones. We’d tie towels around our necks and pretend to be superheroes. I was always so sure that one day I would really fly.”
He stopped and silently cursed. Liam hadn’t meant to step so far into the past, or share such secret memories with Holly. He could almost imagine Charlie running up the ridge, motioning for Liam to follow.
“Where’s your family now?”
“They all sold the land to the resort’s developer and moved.”
“It must be odd to find yourself back here, then.”
“I feel like I lost something, and I can never get it back,” he said.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said. She watched him with those aqua-colored eyes of hers.
“It doesn’t matter. Words won’t change anything.” Liam recognized that the wall he’d constructed to keep others out was close to crumbling under the weight of her stare. He shored up his defenses and stepped away from her gaze. “Besides, I’ve rambled on too long. We’ve got a killer’s accomplice to find.”
“What do we do now?”
Liam and Holly were alone, with no one to photograph. Ahead, the cobbled path led through the woods. “I remember this path,” he said. “All those years ago, it wasn’t covered in stones. Just trampled-down dirt. It used to lead to a boulder field.” His voice caught. He cleared his throat. “I’m sure it’s gone. I wonder what’s there now.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” said Holly, stepping beyond the tree line.
Liam wasn’t one to believe in spirits or ghosts. Yet, as he stepped into the woods, he knew for certain that some places were haunted.
His lips twitched with the memory of playing capture the flag. It was replaced with another memory, and he reached for the dog tag.
“You okay?” Holly asked. “You look, I don’t know... Pale.”
“It’s nothing,” he said, letting go of the leather cord.
Holly dropped her questioning, and they continued up the path without speaking. Dappled sunlight shone through the overhead branches. With the trees beginning to bloom, the light in the woods turned hazy.
Looking left and right, Liam constantly searched for broken twigs or scuff marks on a trunk. A mountain breeze blew down from the highest peaks. Barely buffeted by the trees, the wind still held a chill.
“Are you cold?” he asked Holly.
She shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her polar fleece. “A little,” she said.
“Maybe we should head back,” he suggested. Certainly, they wouldn’t find anyone to photograph this deep into the woods.
“Sure,” she said. Turning, she began to walk down the trail.
Yet, Liam remained.
Images came to him, like pictures caught on film, but faded with time.
Charlie running ahead, laughing.
Liam, his legs aching and chest burning while trying to keep up.
The low rumble of conversation carried down the trail and interrupted his thoughts. As if the temperature had just plummeted, gooseflesh covered his arms. The hair at the nape of his neck stood on end. Liam paused.
“What is it?” Holly asked.
“Did you hear that? Voices?”
She stood without moving. “Yeah. They’re that way.” She pointed up the path.
The woods gave way to an expanse of the green lawn of the golf course. He almost laughed. The dangerous boulder field—the place he was warned about as a child—was gone. Now, it was a benign fairway, covered in grass.
Two men stood next to the ninth hole with metal putters in hand. One had light brown hair and blue eyes. He was tall, fit and the kind of guy that women found appealing. His companion was shorter, thicker, and had a receding hairline.
With temperatures settled in the low fifties, it seemed too cold to golf. Then again, to Liam golf was boring. Still, he understood that those who loved the game would be out on the links as soon as the snow melted enough that they could find their balls.
Holly’s hand in his, Liam moved closer to the golf enthusiasts.
“Yeah,” the handsome one said. “She’s a tall brunette. A housekeeper. She was in my room when I came back.”
“Don’t tell me that you...?” The balding guy gyrated his hips.
“No, of course not,” said Handsome. “Not yet, at least.”
They both laughed at the lewd joke.
Liam didn’t have a lot of close male friends—or any, really. At times he wondered
if he needed the camaraderie one could only get from a male buddy. Yet, if this is how guys acted, Liam figured that he wasn’t missing much. He looked at Holly and she rolled her eyes. Apparently, she shared his opinion.
“How do you always find the willing ladies, Kevin?” the other man asked.
“It’s a skill,” he said. “Kind of like golf.”
Kevin putted the ball. It skipped over the hole. He cursed.
The other man laughed. “I hope you have better skills with your maid than you do with the ball.” He putted his own ball. It dropped into the hole.
“You’re just jealous that I have game.”
“You mean you have lame?”
“Shut up, Steve,” said Kevin.
The air around Liam warmed again and he let out a breath that he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Melting into the woods, Liam and Holly turned back to the resort. As they walked, he wondered how a maid who was conveniently in Kevin’s room fit the profile of a dangerous killer.
Chapter 11
Without saying much, Holly and Liam walked back to the hotel. The quiet gave him time to process everything they’d seen and heard. He didn’t know what to make of any of it—not yet.
With Holly at his side, he stepped out of the woods. His cell phone pinged with an incoming text. He glanced at the screen. It was from Marcus Jones.
On-site. In white florist’s van. Parked in employee lot. Report ASAP.
Liam typed out his reply: On my way.
Turning to Holly, he said, “I need to meet with Marcus and Wyatt. Why don’t you go back to the room? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Sure,” she said. “I’ll see you soon.”
Liam watched her walk toward the main building. Her tight-fitting pants hugged her curves as she walked, hips swaying. He had to force himself to tear his gaze away. Nothing was more important than catching Darcy Owens and getting back to his daughter.
But he had to admit, more than her obvious allure, Holly was smart and caring. He could do worse than to fall for a woman like her.
Too bad she didn’t want him.
Agent’s Mountain Rescue Page 11
