Struck by an idea, he hurried home. Back at his trailer, he swung his body into his muddy Jeep. Speeding northward, using side streets, Pete chuckled the moment he caught sight of her van. He held back as he followed her to a road that branched off to the left.
Pete knew all about this particular road. It dead-ended on the side of the big mountain. There was only one house, about two-hundred yards beyond a logging operation’s wood yard. It was a very secluded house. A grin twitched on one side of his face, while he planned his next step.
“Yeah, she’ll be seeing me again.” He’d wait until dark. If she drove off to visit the bar or her friend, Josie, he’d stop her. Here. In the wilderness. The time for sweet-talk had ended.
CHAPTER 13
Cindy lived on the top floor of a group of new off-campus apartments on the west side, near the trailhead to Garnet Cliffs. Her roommate couldn’t hack college and had moved home last week. Cindy purred, clasping her arms around her breasts as she walked from the restaurant’s table. She looked forward to a long private soak in the tub. She couldn’t wait to get home to her silent, empty apartment. There was no chance she would invite Marcus inside.
While Marcus tossed bills on the table, then followed her out the door, she glanced around the parking lot.
“Allow me,” Marcus said, opening the car door. She folded her legs into the car. When her skirt slid up her thigh, he groaned. “Dear God.”
“Did you say something?” She shouldn’t tease someone she had no plans to kiss, but to have a handsome football star get a boner on her account stroked her ego.
He inhaled nosily, then walked to the driver’s side door. She adjusted her seat belt as he slipped inside the car. Then Marcus laughed. A cold laugh. When she felt he was privy to a private joke at her expense, she grew uneasy.
“What’s so funny?” Apprehension made her stomach clench.
He turned to her, as he started the engine, and said, “Just thinking we’re smart to get our work done. I’ll have less to worry about during my football game. I have an idea,” he said as he pulled into traffic, “come see me play Saturday. It’s a home game and—”
“I don’t know, Marcus.”
“Please? Doesn’t mean you’d be my date or anything. I’d appreciate your presence,” and he leaned in to kiss her.
She turned so he caught her cheek. She threw him a smile, as he turned back toward the steering wheel. While the car headed toward town, Cindy snuggled into the seat, and relaxed. Should she give him half a chance? She had all weekend to contemplate the pros and cons of a relationship with this huge, good-looking man.
Speeding through the sleepy downtown village of Fairfield, darkened storefronts reflected yellow street lamps. Furtive shadows passed behind the window shades of apartments above the shops, so unlike her comfortable apartment, which was a modern, clean, quiet environment—far from traffic.
Marcus’ car flew along the empty street, leaving the sleepy town in its wake. Staring out the side window, her body purred with delight, happy with the knowledge the evening would end the way she expected. A peck on the cheek would have to satisfy Marcus.
She stifled a giggle.
The brilliance of the half moon suffused the night sky with muted beams of light. They dotted the ever-darkening landscape with gray-blue shadows. She shuddered.
“It’s almost November. I’ll be going home over the Thanksgiving holiday break. What about you?” He didn’t respond.
Okay. I tried being genial.
Her thoughts strayed, as she daydreamed about Professor Oliver.
That man smelled sensational; a combination of the nearby forest and cinnamon, and so much sweeter than Marcus.
Her teacher stood straight and tall and with a body slimmer than Marcus. And, he dressed conservatively while Marcus lived in sweat pants and hooded tops.
The professor’s wavy brown hair hung a good deal longer than Marcus’ crew cut. The professor’s locks framed eyes a yummy shade of chocolate, so unlike the steel gray of Marcus’ eyes. When she recalled how the Professor’s eyes had beamed at her from across his desk, filled with heat, the secret place between her legs dampened.
How do I get his attention?
“Too bad I failed to get a seat near him in the van.” Marcus had managed to wheedle his way next to her.
“Did you say something, my sweet?”
“I’m reminiscing about our museum trip.”
Does the Professor make love with tenderness?
If so, she’d consider giving in. Losing her virginity to such a dreamy hunk might be worth the sacrifice.
Cindy licked her lips to quench their sudden dryness. She also considered the handsome paramedic, Pete. He’d slipped her an appreciative wink last time she dined at Tanya’s Grill. A thrill skittered down her spine, knowing his attention had zeroed in on her. The moment he’d locked on Cindy’s face, he’d grinned. Then his blue eyes roamed the room, as if judging the establishment’s female customers, comparing them to her.
The nerve of some men!
He did appear to have some redeeming qualities besides his good looks. As a medical professional, he must be smart and compassionate.
Probably financially secure, too.
He had introduced himself, and her heart had leapt out of her throat. But, before they could strike up a meaningful conversation, a piercing tone filled the restaurant. Both he and his partner ran toward their parked ambulance.
When Marcus’s car swerved around a sharp corner, Cindy’s daydream abandoned her. Bolting upright, she glanced his way, then back out her window. Had he had too much to drink? Then she realized she’d lost her bearings.
She squinted into the gathering darkness. Thick with trees and void of streetlights, the road signs were unreadable. Where were familiar homes and businesses?
“Marcus, where are we?” Silence filled his luxury car, as it bounced along a rutted road. Her uneasiness grew to overpowering terror. Inky blackness hid any landmarks, and the sense of uneasiness escalated.
“I don’t like this at all. Stop the car!”
***
Pete gave up on catching Destiny tonight. She still hid out at her cabin, up her deserted road. He couldn’t force his way in.
“Not tonight, anyway.” His afternoon of wild passion with a college co-ed had finally caught up to him. At the moment, he craved sleep more than the continued pursuit of Destiny. He’d need his strength once he got her alone. Then they’d enjoy a night of rough, passionate sex. He’d show her how to please a man with her fingers, lips, and mouth, before he slammed his cock inside her sweet body.
Should I lean her over a couch? A table? I can’t wait to see what she says when I tear the shirt from her back…when she feels this thick cock against her, she’ll beg me for it…I’m gonna give it to her, too.
Pete’s hands itched, imagining her breasts in them, while ramming into her, over and over. The images were difficult to ignore, and his cock strained against the front of his uniform.
Feeling suddenly awake, he drove away from Destiny’s dirt road and headed back toward the fire station on Main Street. A round of pool with the guys might be one way to set aside these pent-up sexual cravings. The firehouse loomed ahead, but it was quiet and dark.
“Damn!”
He sped toward the trailhead below Falcon Ridge, uncertain where to go or what to do with the urges building up inside. He’d lost his appetite…for food.
Another hunger raised its head. A hunger for something sweeter than food. The night shimmered cold and clear. His Jeep lacked side doors and the breeze had frozen his balls while he waited around for Destiny Blake.
What the Hell am I doing out here in the middle of nowhere?
He veered off the road and made a casual u-turn at the entrance to a gated logging road. He might as well head home. As he sailed around a corner on the winding road, his gaze caught a flash of color off to the side, up another dirt road.
“Why the hell is a woman walkin
g alone, way out here?” Pete said, as he hit the brakes.
***
Her body lay hidden for a month. No one even reported her missing for a week. Jacob couldn’t understand how the absence of someone so young and vibrant had gone unnoticed so long. The college campus howled in an uproar that reverberated across the valley. Everyone suspected murder. The police kept silent.
Jacob sat in his apartment’s dining room with the morning paper laid out in front of him. Several days earlier, a pair of hunters had found her body lying at the bottom of the cliffs. His eyes moistened. He rubbed them with the heels of his hands, and sighed. He’d already suffered a visit from the local police early this morning. They insisted on questioning all her teachers.
“Just routine,” they’d assured him, but he knew nothing would be routine again. Since her disappearance, every dorm conducted student safety meetings, and brightly colored posters were plastered across campus warning everyone to be vigilant.
“It’s a good idea,” the officer commented. “The signs publicize the rules we suggested. No one is to go out alone, they should keep cars locked, rooms secured, etcetera.”
Once the police left, Jacob sipped his coffee, but its bitterness made his stomach turn. The newspaper article mentioned the recent addition of other signs around campus. Cindy’s sweet face stared back. The words printed below pleaded for anyone with clues to call a crime-line number set up by Cindy’s parents.
It was early November, and the weather dumped snow on top of the big mountain.
Destiny’s mountain.
He sighed. Silent and magnificent, the snowcapped peak sat as a shadowy backdrop and a witness to Cindy’s untimely death.
Jacob pushed his chair back, then turned on the radio. The local station’s news echoed the paper, but he welcomed the noise instead of the silence of his cold apartment. He almost missed the eerie feminine voice that had bothered him these last few months.
“The local police have called in the coroner and State Police,” said the announcer. “There has not been a murder within fifty miles of Fairfield in over ten years, though the Police department refused to call this a murder investigation. Witnesses report crowds have lined the access road to the trailhead, made up mainly of Fairfield College students. Several townspeople have also arrived. Out of respect, or simple curiosity? Who knows? Stay tuned for further developments.”
“How could something as ghastly as murder happen in this tranquil community?” He returned his attention to the paper, rereading the article while his forgotten coffee grew cold.
“Cindy Nelson was one of my brightest students. She’s now a crime statistic.” He hurled the mug across the room, then glared at the shattered pieces. A large, brown stain dripped down the wall like blood. The bitter brew pooled on the hardwood floor. He sucked in two deep breaths and remembered Cindy as personable and open. Through her superior writing, she gave him the impression the subject matter might be as important to her, as him.
Had he only imagined she stared at him a little too much? But, weren’t students there to watch him? The day he arrived at class with a cane, she’d been openly concerned about his injury. With fondness, he remembered her kind words, and he groaned.
“What a waste.”
Another announcer came on the air after the commercial break and grabbed Jacob’s attention from hurtful memories.
“The small town of Fairfield grieves for Miss Nelson’s parents, who will attend today’s memorial service at the Samson Auditorium. The college president has canceled classes and has asked all teachers, coaches, and administrators to attend.”
Jacob had volunteered to help direct traffic at the auditorium’s west side entrance. Offering to lend his experience as a police officer, while he observed the students and faculty, had been a natural response from an ex-cop.
“Keep things quiet and orderly, and make note of anyone suspicious,” the chief of security warned. “Everyone’s safety is of the utmost importance.”
Jacob owed it to his adopted community to do his part. Over the past couple of months, he’d tried his best to be an active member of the general public, which included both the college and surrounding town.
Standing in a doorway for an hour is the least I can do.
He bent to collect the remains of his mug, and deposited the shards in the trash before he headed to the bedroom to shower and dress. He had another hour to kill before his presence was required at the auditorium, so he decided to walk to campus. The ache in his knee barely registered, and if the weather held, he’d be fine.
With his hair still damp, he pulled on his hiking boots. After he threw on his new ski jacket, he searched the shadowy corners of his coat closet for gloves. A New Hampshire winter teased the valley with light snowfalls and frigid mornings. He never wore a hat back in Boston, but might have to break down and buy one.
“Will she be at the memorial?” Good Lord. Will he ever stop thinking of Destiny? She invaded his dreams each night, causing him to awake hard, hot and ready.
He’d reach for her in the dark, but every dream ended the same. She’d smile her sweet smile of pure innocence then fade into mist, and he’d awaken with a curse on his lips. To regain control of his body and his thoughts, he ended up pacing his bedroom until dawn.
“How can she still have an effect on me? It’s been two Goddamn months!” Jacob’s very personal war with sleeplessness showed signs he was losing the battle. His hallway mirror reflected the dark circles under his eyes, and he sometimes nodded off in class.
She’s just a woman I slept with. We’re practically strangers.
Shrugging off such painful thoughts, he set the alarm and then locked the front door. As he stood on his porch, he recalled only a fleeting reunion between them. When he caught her picking out a paperback book at the drugstore, her scent had filled his nostrils, while his eyes locked on hers. She’d met his stare and he’d lowered his lips toward her luscious mouth. If Destiny’s friend hadn’t called out, breaking the spell, he may have taken it further—a dangerous proposition.
He couldn’t get her out of his head.
“Passion and love will save her.”
“Damn you! I certainly don’t want you in my head.” This time, he directed his sharp retort at a faceless, feminine entity who urged him to action. Exactly what she wanted him to do, she never said, but she alarmed him enough to stay watchful.
He had a horrible thought. Was Cindy Nelson the woman the voice referred to? No, she couldn’t be the one. Cindy lay cold and stiff in the county morgue. No one could help her now. If she was the woman the voice demanded he help, he’d failed her.
Miserably.
He zipped his dark-green ski jacket closed. Shivering due more to a frightening image of the poor dead girl than the cold, he slipped on gloves. He limped down his porch stairs. The cold seeped under his jeans, and the knee throbbed. Students joined him on the sidewalk. They walked in silent groups of two or three.
“Smart,” he said.
The walk would do him good, he hoped. His leg had healed as well as he had expected. Haunted by memories, he had not ventured up the mountain since his accident. Jacob located his fellow teachers stationed at the west entrance to the auditorium.
“Greet the students, pass out the program for the memorial service, and make sure quiet is maintained,” a security officer instructed the teachers. The uniformed officer had flung open both sets of double doors in order to encourage quick seating of the throngs of students. People greeted each other in hushed tones. Jacob contemplated the faces of grief as they passed.
When the crowd dwindled, Jacob pulled the doors closed with a muffled thud. The lights dimmed. He leaned against the wall at the back of the auditorium, shifting all his weight to his right leg. His left throbbed.
“Are you okay?” Derek Clark whispered.
Also stuck on door duty, his friend’s concern forced Jacob to smile. Of the handful of people he’d come to appreciate, Derek topped the list.
“I pushed my body too hard, too early,” he whispered back.
Inside the darkened auditorium, heat settled around them, so Jacob slipped off his heavy coat and stuffed his gloves into a pocket. A suit-clad official stepped up to the podium and announced that the service would soon start. When the door creaked behind him, Jacob pivoted on his good leg. He stood ready to hush the newcomer, but stared with puzzlement at the silhouette. Then he inhaled her scent. Vanilla.
Backlit by the exit light, she couldn’t see him. She had entered alone. Hadn’t she heard the lectures from college officials about safety in numbers?
What is she thinking? She shouldn’t walk around campus by herself.
Cindy’s murder meant a killer could be on the loose. Anger boiled his insides into clawing rage. He gritted his teeth then acted.
“Find a seat now, young lady, and be quiet!”
She jumped at his command, then took off down an aisle.
CHAPTER 14
Destiny nearly tripped over her own feet before claiming a seat. The minute she heard the man’s voice, a tremor coursed through her chilled body. She rubbed her gloved hands up and down both arms. Though unable to see the voice’s owner, she knew it belonged to Jacob Oliver, but her delight twisted into resentment. He had ordered her about like one of his young students.
How could he?
“I’m not one of them.”
“Hush,” several people whispered.
Then the speaker at the podium mentioned the dead woman’s name. Destiny lowered her shivering body into the seat, gazed at the stage with respect, and pushed aside her irritation at Jacob. Beautiful flower arrangements covered the platform, including vases of yellow mums like the ones on her porch. Hers had recently died from the change in the weather. Another chill clawed along her spine.
Dead flowers and a dead girl’s funeral. Creepy thoughts.
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