“I agree.” Matt nodded. “Carla still talks about acting. She’s wanted to organize a community theater for years now. This would be wonderful for her.”
Krista smiled gleefully. Matt could almost picture her rubbing her hands together in delight.
“I haven’t seen you this happy in years,” Cameron remarked.
Matt noted the fondness with which the other man studied Krista. They were close friends, maybe more. How much more, he wanted to know. She was a beautiful woman and when she smiled, with the sparkle in her eyes, she positively glowed. But Cameron had a wide gold band on the ring finger of his left hand. That meant a lot. I hope.
“Well, for the first time in a long time, I’m involved in something very positive. I love my career, but at the moment this project is more fulfilling.” Krista stabbed at her salad with gusto.
Life was changing in Quail Ridge, Matt admitted to himself. Who would’ve guessed Krista Faye would bring those changes?
Krista glanced in her rearview mirror for the fifth time. Someone followed her. The car stayed about an eighth of a mile behind her. Sometimes she’d lose it around a corner in the twisty road, but when she came to a straight stretch, it was always there. Maybe it could’ve been a coincidence, but somehow she doubted it.
The road forked ahead. To the right, it led into Quail Ridge and if she went left, she’d end up heading toward the coast. Krista took this route even though she’d been driving home. With an eye on the rearview mirror, she growled an expletive when the car behind remained on her tail.
She couldn’t make out the license plate or the driver’s face so she slowed, holding onto the possibility this might still be coincidence.
The other car slowed as well.
It had to be Ricky. She didn’t know what kind of vehicle he drove, but the sleek silver car looked fancy, and right in his price range. She turned again at the next intersection. If she drove in crazy enough circles, she’d know for sure. She considered pulling into a parking lot somewhere. No, even better would be to get behind him and follow him somehow.
Krista still knew most of the roads in the area. She sped up, and once around the next bend in the road, she pulled into a circular driveway, behind a thick growth of trees and blackberry brambles. When the silver car passed, Krista pulled back onto the road, now the follower.
“How do you like that?” she muttered, easing up behind her apparent stalker.
He hit his brakes for a second, and sped up again.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Krista increased her speed.
Unfortunately her old Jeep didn’t have the acceleration of the luxury car in front of her, but she was determined to give it her best shot. She at least wanted to get a license plate number and show the creep he didn’t scare her.
She pulled up closer to him, close enough to see the New Hampshire tag and commit them to memory. She managed to stick with him for another half a mile. The car ahead swerved abruptly onto another road that led back toward Quail Ridge.
She didn’t stand a chance. At the risk of tipping the Jeep, Krista took the turn and shoved her foot down on the gas. The little silver car had too much of a lead. Krista’s Jeep shook as she tried to keep up. She bit on her bottom lip and held on to the steering wheel with a death grip. But the car got farther away from her and disappeared around the corner.
As soon as she took that curve, she realized she was on the same stretch of Route 168 where she’d been in the accident. For a moment her resolve shuddered, leaving her torn between the desire to run down the bastard, and not wanting a repeat of that night long ago.
The other car had gotten too far ahead anyhow. She’d never catch up. She swore under her breath and eased her foot off the gas, but before she’d slowed back down to the speed limit, a Quail Ridge cruiser pulled up behind her, lights flashing.
“Oh sure, you go after me and let the other guy go,” she shouted in the rearview mirror, but pulled over to the side of the road.
Before she had a chance to turn off the Jeep, let alone dig her wallet out of her purse, the driver’s side door flew open.
“Get out!”
There was no misreading the expression on Matt’s face. Pure anger brightened his cheeks to a florid red and his eyes blazed with fury. She hesitated, but knew if she didn’t cooperate, there’d be more trouble.
“Now.”
“Okay, I’m getting out,” she grumbled and stepped from the Jeep. She brushed past him angrily and turned to face him. “But you might want to tell me why. Most cops don’t force someone from their vehicle over a simple matter of speeding.”
“There’s nothing simple about this and you know it,” Matt ground out through clenched teeth. “What the hell do you think you were doing chasing after him? You think you could’ve caught him? And if you did catch him, what were you planning to do with him? Make him admit he’s the one responsible for messing up the center and throwing the brick through your window?”
Krista set her jaw firmly and glared at the now empty road ahead of her. Three white crosses rose starkly against a backdrop of forest several yards up the road. She swallowed hard, unwilling to answer.
“You know where you are, don’t you? And you’re driving like you want a repeat!”
“Stop it!” She pressed her palm against her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. God, she wanted a cigarette. That craving hadn’t visited her in well over a week, but it overwhelmed her now. Krista wasn’t in the mood to fight with him.
She had planned to catch up with Ricky and demand he tell her what he wanted. Probably not the best idea. He’d just come up with some bullshit answer, a smooth lie she wouldn’t believe anyway. And then what, she didn’t know.
“He was following me,” she exclaimed. The frustration building inside coiled into a ball in her chest. Maybe Matt would understand where her desperation stemmed from. “For at least twenty minutes, he tagged along behind me. I turned the tables on him about three miles back. Why the hell didn’t you stop him? He was going a lot faster than me.”
“I’m more worried about you,” Matt replied angrily. “Driving like a maniac. You could’ve gotten in an accident here, Krista. Besides, you wouldn’t have gotten anywhere with him. You know that, right?”
Krista nodded. He was right, of course. Things had been quiet around here for a while and now she might have just stirred the pot.
“Damn,” she swore bitterly. “Okay, I was wrong, I made a mistake. I’m sick of living on the edge like this. Waiting for something else to happen. I expected some people to react badly to me, like you did, but I didn’t think I’d be attacked. I just wanted to do something good for this town. I never thought I’d be a threat to anyone. If he’d just let me be—” Her words caught in her throat, stuck there with the grief that threatened to choke her. She squeezed her eyes shut. Hot tears slid down her cheeks.
He had her in his arms so quickly she didn’t have time to avoid the embrace even if she wanted to. She sucked in her breath and stood stiffly for a moment, trying to process how he’d gone from being incredibly mad at her, to wanting to comfort her. The warmth and strength of his body both soothed and disturbed her senses more than her car chase.
His badge pressed into her even as his hands smoothed down her back.
“What are you doing?” Krista asked, her voice a whisper. Yet she rested her chin on his shoulder and leaned against him.
“I think I’m holding you.” His breath tickled her ear.
Krista chuckled weakly. “At the side of the road. A very strange place, Officer Burgess.”
He pulled back, his arms still wrapped around her. Their gazes met and held for a long moment. Her smile faded. She’d wondered off and on, since their time on the ridge, and on every single occasion they bumped into each other, what it would be like to kiss him.
&
nbsp; It seemed she was about to find out, as he dipped his head and caught her lips with his.
God, she hadn’t been breathing those last few moments before the kiss. Now she inhaled against his mouth, tasting and smelling him. There was a bittersweet fervor in the way his lips moved over hers. She met it and returned it. His hands lingered on the small of her back and pressed her against his body. Exciting, daring, his touch sent her heart racing as it hadn’t done in years.
She pulled away first to get her bearings. No, it couldn’t be this easy. She didn’t want to fall into a relationship with him. Not so soon after he’d given up his contempt of her. These things would take time.
“Thank you for stopping me,” she told him, untangling herself from his arms.
He let her go without a fight, but some of the spark that had been in his eyes a moment ago died. His lips tightened briefly before he replied, “You’re welcome. I want you safe. Just keep away from him, Krista. Don’t encourage him. He’s got enough pull to make your life miserable.”
“I’ll remember that,” Krista assured him, arrested by the way his hazel eyes studied her; steady, probing, as if trying to read her thoughts.
She hoped she could hide her thoughts, her feelings, from him. If she couldn’t, her heart wouldn’t stand a chance against him.
The phone rang, shattering the quiet of the night. Krista opened her eyes a crack as the noise ripped up her sleep again. She wanted to ignore it, roll over and pull the blankets back over her head until the offensive sound stopped. But according to the soft red glow from her clock, it was nearly three-thirty in the morning. When phone calls came at that hour, it usually meant bad news.
She grabbed for the handset and pushed the talk button.
“Hello,” she muttered, pushing her hair from her face. She rolled over to her back and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.
“Have a nice drive today?”
The voice was soft but chilling. Krista bolted upright, her hand pressing against the thundering of her heart.
“Ricky?”
The line went dead, a low, monotone humming in her ear.
For a long moment, she held it to her ear, half expecting the caller to return, but he didn’t. He didn’t have to. He’d succeeded in his intentions. Icy discomfort wrapped around her.
She shoved the blankets away and got out of bed. The floor was cold and darkness pressed against the windows. She wondered what other things were outside those windows.
Wide awake now, Krista headed to the kitchen and grabbed her discarded pack of cigarettes and lighter; fumbled with the lighter twice before igniting the tip of the cigarette. In darkness, she sat at the table, the cigarette calming her frayed nerves.
Gus wandered into the kitchen and settled at Krista’s feet. She scratched the top of his head while taking another drag, staring out at the blackness beyond the window. The dog seemed restless and nervous as well. Usually he slept like the dead. She appreciated his company. With him she didn’t feel quite so alone.
Suddenly the whole backyard burst with light as the motion detector floodlight was activated.
Gus leapt to his feet, a low rumble in his throat.
Krista crunched out the remainder of her cigarette and scrambled from the chair. She really didn’t want to look out the window. She wanted to go back to bed, pull the covers over her head, and wait until the sun came up.
She didn’t own any kind of weapons, except for Patricia’s pepper spray and a few wicked sharp knives. Not ideal, but she withdrew a butcher knife and switched off the kitchen light.
Despite the fact she lived in a small town where people didn’t lock doors, Krista had plenty of big city mentality and every door and window in the place was secured. Thank goodness. It gave her some comfort. She’d take all the comforts she could get at the moment.
With Gus at her side and the knife gripped tightly in her fist, she peeked out the window into the whitewashed lawn.
Nothing moved within the reach of the light except for some leaves being pushed along by a breeze.
“Where are you, you bastard?” she whispered into the night. If nothing else moved within the range of the light sensor, it would go dark in a few moments. Would that be a good thing or bad? Maybe she’d be better off not knowing. The thought of danger lurking in the shadows made her shudder.
Just before the light went out, Krista caught a glimpse of a tawny bulk moving at the edge of the lawn, disappearing into the woods. Not the man she’d been expecting. Just a deer out for a late night snack.
The animal soon faded into the blanket of darkness that consumed the yard.
Gus grumbled once more.
“It was just a deer, big guy. We’re getting each other freaked out over Bambi.”
She backed away from the window and replaced the knife in its holder.
“Come on, let’s go to bed. I’ll even break the rules and let you sleep with me.”
She’d almost reached door when the shrill of her phone broke through the night again. Krista froze. It rang once, twice and once again. If it rang five times, the machine would get it.
She grabbed it on the fourth ring.
She didn’t say anything, just listened. She could hear a raspy breath on the other end before the caller hung up. Not a word, yet somehow that was worse than him saying anything at all.
In the morning she’d get caller ID. She didn’t think it would do much good, but a tiny sliver of peace of mind was better than nothing at all. Krista replaced the handset and headed toward her bedroom. Sitting up all night wasn’t going to help her.
If she had to be scared, she might as well do it in the comfort of her bed.
Chapter 7
“You look beat.”
Matt glanced up from his desk at his father who stood in the doorway. “I am beat.”
“You’re working too hard.” Ed walked in and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, studying Matt steadily.
With a chuckle, Matt rubbed at his neck muscles which had tied themselves into knots at some point. “When have I ever complained about work? Besides, I just had a mini vacation. My batteries are recharged.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“Just worried about what’s happening with the center. We’re getting nowhere on it.” Matt leaned back in the chair and studied his father. He wasn’t sure he liked the careful way his dad examined him. As if he were searching hard for something.
“It’s a wonder you’re taking this so personally,” Ed commented. “Knowing how you feel about Krista.”
The ironic note in his father’s voice made Matt snort. There was a twinkle in his dad’s eyes and the hint of a smile.
“Well, we’re doing our best,” Ed continued. “We have a few leads, but until we get a big break, we’ll have to stay the course.”
“And hope it doesn’t happen again,” Matt muttered.
The thought of Ricky, sitting in his fancy house on the hill, laughing at everyone, brought a rush of anger coursing through his veins. Ricky might not have dirt under his nails over this, but he sure would have it on his conscience. If he even had one.
“Why don’t you get out of here? It’s late.” Ed straightened and walked to the desk.
“Is that why you’re here?” Matt glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly three-thirty in the morning. “Mom hates you working this shift.”
“We all have to pay our dues, Matt, even when we’re staring at retirement. I’ll be out of here in about half an hour too.”
“And you’ll have Mom home waiting for you,” Matt said, almost wistfully.
A grin spread over his father’s face. A smile of pure contentment. “It’s a nice feeling. You should try it.”
“I did once, remember? Not exactly the same thing.�
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Ed’s smile remained in place. “No, not exactly. Rachel wasn’t that type of woman, Matt. You found out just in time.”
“She chucked me, Dad, not the other way around.”
“True, but you would’ve figured it out eventually. You need a woman who’ll wait up for you, who’ll be home for you. And it’s high time you started looking.”
Matt stood and stretched. “I’ll start tomorrow,” he joked, trying to keep it light. He really didn’t want to go home to an empty house, but didn’t want to admit a woman, a wife, was what he needed. “Or maybe I’ll just get a dog.”
“We want grandchildren.”
“You might have to wait for a bit.” Matt shrugged into his jacket and headed for the door.
“Not too long, I hope,” his father called after him.
“Take a look at this.” Patricia held up a piece of paper and waved it in the air with an agitated jerk.
“What do you have?” Krista pushed away from her desk and crossed the office. Patricia held the letter out, her lips pursed tightly and her eyes reflecting uncharacteristic anger.
Krista grimaced as she read the name at the top of the single cream sheet. Richard A. Crowe. “Now what?” She scanned the short letter, holding her breath.
And let it out with a whoosh. I’ll be damned.
“He wants something,” she grumbled, taking the check from Patricia’s hand. “A person doesn’t make a one-eighty so quickly. Not Ricky, anyway. Donating money isn’t going to make things better.”
Where One Road Leads Page 9
