by Debra Webb
How the hell could he see?
He had to know the area.
Heart pounding, she burst into a run.
Barely missed a head-on collision with another tree.
Don't think. Feel. Run!
He was practically on top of her now.
She braced for impact.
Hands grabbed at her coat.
She slammed her elbow backward as hard as she could.
The contact jarred all the way up to her shoulder.
A grunt told her she'd connected with something vulnerable.
The hands stopped clutching at her.
She rushed forward.
Stumbled.
Fell flat on her face in the underbrush and snow.
She scrambled to get up.
Strong fingers manacled her ankle.
She screamed.
The sound echoed through the woods.
She kicked at her attacker.
Twisting her body, she kicked harder.
She couldn't see his face.
He wore a black ski mask. His eyes glittered.
She kicked hard at his head. Rammed a hand into her bag. Her fingers couldn't locate the metal canister.
She kicked again.
He let go.
She scrambled to her feet.
Ran.
Fuck the trees.
She butted a tree trunk full-on. The air whooshed out of her lungs.
She shook herself, dragged in a breath.
Keep going.
Her head spinning, she moved around the tree.
Ran as fast as her legs would go.
She burst free of the woods.
The road.
Where was her car?
She turned around.
Couldn't see it.
Fuck it!
Run!
She didn't know which way she was running. Toward Calderwood Lane or away from it. Was she even on Chapel Trail?
Didn't matter.
Run!
Her feet flew out from under her.
Her ass hit the ground.
She scrambled up.
Keep running.
Faster.
Don't look back.
Listen.
Hold your breath.
Listen!
The only sound was her own steps echoing behind her.
Or was he still coming?
A burst of adrenaline sent fuel to her muscles. She lurched forward, tried to run faster still.
Her feet hit pavement.
She glanced around. Saw the green street sign.
Couldn't read it. Had to be Calderwood Lane.
She lunged left.
Not daring to slow down, she dug her cell from her pocket.
Bars glowed.
Relief burst inside her.
Full service.
All she had to do was put through the call and hide until help arrived. She ducked for cover under a thick evergreen. Pulling up her contact list, she hit C for Conner.
The slap of soles on the pavement in the distance sent fear throttling through her.
He was coming.
Don't even breathe.
CHAPTER 12
Kale drove like a bat out of hell along Calderwood Lane. What in God's name was she doing out here at this time of night? It was twenty degrees! As soon as he found her he would damn sure ask.
This only confirmed his conclusion. People from New York were crazy.
A dark figure appeared in front of his headlights.
He slammed on his brakes.
The Jeep skidded to a stop.
She stood in the center of the road.
Didn't move.
Shit.
He shoved into park and flung his door open.
"What the hell were you thinking?"
She still didn't move.
He stepped between her and the front of the Jeep. His gut roiled at the idea that a few more feet and he would have run her down.
"Thank you for coming." Her voice sounded small and way more humble than usual.
What the hell had happened to her? Before he could shout that and the other questions bombarding his brain, she walked, her movements unnatural, around to the passenger side of the Jeep and climbed in.
Kale threw up his hands, then dropped them to his sides. This was not what he'd signed on for. He was supposed to be a tour guide, not a freaking search-and-rescue service.
Or a peace mediator. Or… whatever the hell else she needed.
He marched to the driver's side door and plopped behind the wheel. "Where's your car?"
"Near the chapel somewhere."
He glanced at her. She sat like a stone, her gaze fixed on the road. Her voice sounded flat.
"Put on your seat belt."
Her hands shook as she followed his order.
He shifted into drive and rolled forward. When he'd located her car and determined it wouldn't block traffic, not that there was much out here, he pointed his Jeep toward home. There hadn't appeared to be any damage to the vehicle so she hadn't run off the road. What he could see of the tires hadn't given the impression she'd had a flat. Maybe the battery had died on her.
She started to shake. The adrenaline he'd heard in her voice when she called was wearing off. Not to mention she was likely freezing. He turned up the heat and drove a little faster.
He didn't ask any more questions. She didn't ask where he was taking her. Shock, he supposed. But from what?
She didn't utter another word until they arrived at his house. "I apologize for the trouble."
"Not a problem." He braced for Angie's attack as he unlocked and opened his front door.
As he'd anticipated, the dog reared up to greet him. "Hey, girl." He scratched her head and ushered her down. He glanced at his guest. "She's harmless, but a little aggressive with her curiosity."
Sarah Newton blinked, still looking damned dazed.
"Down, Angie," he ordered as he opened the door wider for Newton to enter his domain. He swiped the wall switch and the lamps on either side of the couch illuminated.
Angie wagged her tail and smelled their guest's sneakers. Newton stared at her as if she was an alien life-form.
Kale closed the door and cast around for what to say next. He didn't bring strangers home too often. How about never?
In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a female in the house who wasn't his dog, his mother, or his sister. He tried to visualize his place as she would see it. Not exactly rustic, but definitely on the ordinary side.
Like everything else in his life.
"I should have brought my gloves."
Startled from his ludicrous musings by her odd statement, he looked her over again just to be sure he wasn't missing something that required immediate medical attention. "You've lost me." He dragged off his coat. "What about—"
She reached toward him, turned her hands palms up. The red marks on her palms looked like burns. "I should have brought my gloves," she repeated.
"How did you do that?" He reached out, inspected the marks more closely. Her hands were like ice. Angie, hearing the tension in his voice, barked. "Settle down, girl."
"The vines." Newton exhaled a shaky breath. "That's how I broke my fall."
He shook his head, totally confused. "You're going to have to start at the beginning." She opened her mouth but he stopped her. "First, we should get you warmed up." What was wrong with him? She'd stood out in the cold inadequately dressed for God knows how long. "Take off your coat."
She looked as puzzled as he felt but she did as he said.
He pointed to the couch. "Sit. I'll be right back."
He strode to his bedroom, Angie on his heels, and gathered a wool blanket and down comforter and a couple of pillows. By the time he reached the living room once more her teeth were chattering. He swaddled her in the blanket and ushered her down onto the couch. He tucked the pillows behind her and tugged off her sneakers. Her socks were wet so he pulled them o
ff, too.
"Down, girl," he scolded as his curious companion attempted to sniff his guest's half-frozen feet. "I'll get you some dry socks." When he'd covered her with the down comforter, he snapped his fingers for Angie to come and hustled back to his bedroom for socks.
Angie trotted alongside him as he returned to the living room. "Put these on." He tossed the socks to Newton. "I'll make some tea."
Backing slowly toward the kitchen, he was almost afraid to take his eyes off her. She was too quiet. Her movements mechanical. Definitely out of character. What the hell had happened to her out there?
"Come, girl." He patted his leg and Angie joined him at the stove. He checked the kettle and turned on the burner beneath it. His mom had sent over chicken and sausage gumbo that he hadn't bothered eating tonight. Newton looked as if she could use a few good meals.
As soon as he had her warmed up, he would have some answers. If Mayor Patterson learned that she had been running around in the middle of the night—without Kale—he would not be happy. He didn't even want to consider what the chief would say.
Maybe his life was ordinary—boring even—but considering his guest's demeanor there was something to be said for boring.
Sarah Newton had been here less than twenty-four hours and already she was causing havoc.
He slid the soup into the microwave and searched for a tray. He had one. He knew he did. By the time the microwave dinged he'd found the tray and checked on his guest twice. The need to know what had gone down tonight made him hurry. If there was trouble out on Calderwood Lane he wanted to know about it before the chief or the mayor heard the news.
Angie sat at attention, her nose raised high as the scent of gumbo filled the air. "In a minute, girl," he promised.
Soup, tea, sugar. He needed a napkin and spoon. He grabbed both, added them to the tray, and headed back to the living room.
"This should warm you up," he announced as he settled on the ottoman-style coffee table in front of the couch. He set the tray beside him and offered the mug to his guest. Angie stayed back. She knew better than to crowd her master or his guests when food was served. "Sorry there's no lemon or cream." He didn't use them so he didn't keep them.
Newton accepted the tea, holding it in both hands. "Thanks. This is fine."
More patient than he'd known he could be, he let her drink and eat her fill. When the emptied dishes were back on the tray, he pushed it aside and braced his forearms on his knees. "Okay, Ms. Newton, let's hear it."
She'd stopped shivering and looked a little less rattled. "My car died. The battery, I think."
He arched an eyebrow. He might not be an expert but he knew a flat-out lie when he heard one. "Is that how you burned your hands? Trying to start your car? I thought you said you broke your fall."
She shrugged, some of that characteristic indifference glimmering back through. "Maybe I was confused."
Like hell. "What were you doing at the chapel?" He'd taken her there first thing today. He'd given her a minitour of the village. He'd sat by and let her bully Karen Brighton. He wasn't standing for anything less than the truth.
As if the full, uncut version of Sarah Newton had suddenly kicked back in, she gave him one of those quick half-smiles. "I was bored. I thought I'd hang out at the scene to see if the killer showed up for an encore."
Fury whipped through Kale. "The truth, Ms. Newton."
She rolled her eyes. "You sound like my shrink."
Oh, that was good news. The lady had a shrink? Why was he surprised? He didn't repeat his demand. He let the pissed-off glower on his face speak for itself.
An impatient sigh hissed past her lips. "Fine. I had an epiphany."
"What kind of epiphany?" Was she really going to make it this hard?
"The victim had to be restrained at the scene. So I went out there to see if my hunch about the manner of restraint was right."
His brow furrowed with utter confusion. "What are you talking about? What hunch?"
"Her arms and legs were glued to the rock floor at the chapel." She stared straight into his eyes. "Super Glue. Krazy Glue. Something like that."
Dread formed a rock in his gut. Anything he said from this point had to be carefully worded. This lady had a way of dredging information from thin air, it seemed. He'd been briefed on the autopsy results, he knew all too well how Valerie had been restrained. "How can you be sure she was restrained… in that manner?"
"I found blood and tissue residue." A frown tugged at her lips. "You haven't seen the final autopsy report? Surely that detail was mentioned."
How could she have known that? "You couldn't have waited until daylight? I would have gone with you."
"I couldn't sleep."
Jesus Christ. She was going to be a pain in the ass. "So you followed your hunch. Good for you. What really happened to your car?"
She averted her gaze again. "I got turned around in the woods. Couldn't find my way back to it."
That sure didn't sound like the cocky woman he knew her to be. "You could have gotten completely lost and frozen to death. This isn't New York, Ms. Newton, there isn't a taxi waiting at the corner of every block."
"Believe me, there isn't a taxi waiting at the corner of every block in New York," she snapped. "Only in the movies."
"I'm going to ask you once more. If you keep yanking my chain, I'm going to have to excuse myself from being your escort."
That prompted a laugh. He couldn't decide if the sound reflected amusement or hope.
"You're my escort?"
"You know what I mean."
"I was checking out the house across the woods from the chapel and someone pushed me. I went over the edge. If I hadn't grabbed on to those vines… I'd still be lying out there. Frozen probably. Seriously injured for sure."
"Someone pushed you?" She had to be mistaken. Though no one in town wanted her here, there wasn't a soul he could think of who would do her harm.
"I was pushed, Conner." Fury glinted in her eyes. "Then someone chased me through the woods and down the road. He disappeared after that."
"Someone chased you and then just… disappeared?" He made no attempt to hide his skepticism.
"I hid in the trees. He gave up maybe." She shrugged. "I don't know."
Kale didn't know a whole lot about Sarah Newton. Whether she was easily spooked or not. If she had a vivid imagination. Now wasn't the time to ask. She was on the defensive from whatever had happened.
He stood. "I'll get you something for your hands."
If her story was true… but it couldn't be.
Could it?
Folks were pretty upset about her presence. Someone could be watching her. Hoped to scare her off, maybe.
"I knew you wouldn't believe me, that's why I wasn't going to tell you." She looked directly at him. "Those compassionate folks you know would never push a girl over a ledge."
Irritation tightened his lips. "I'll be back."
Rather than argue with her, he stormed to the bathroom. He knew these people. Maybe some of them were capable of spooking her… but pushing her over a ledge. Not possible. There had to be another explanation.
He located the antibiotic cream and headed back to the living room. Angie stood at attention next to Newton, tail wagging.
Newton had pulled her sneakers back on and was reaching for her coat. "I apologize if I inconvenienced you." She produced a faint smile. "I appreciate your help. Now, if you don't mind taking me to my car, I'll get back to the inn. I'm sure you're ready to call it a night."
Oh, no. He wasn't letting her out of his sight again tonight. "Sit."
Angie obeyed instantly. Newton, however, stared at him as indignantly as if he'd slapped her with a glove in blatant challenge.
"You're staying here tonight."
She scoffed. "I don't think so, but nice try."
Nice try?
Then he got it. "Don't flatter yourself, Newton. You're not my type."
She angled her head, stared at him with mo
unting defiance. "Why would I stay here?"
He searched her eyes, saw the faintest flicker of uncertainty. "Because it's late. We're both tired and you've had the hell scared out of you."
The fight visibly draining out of her, she lowered back onto the couch. "I guess it wouldn't kill me to stay."
He didn't bother asking what that meant. He thrust the tube of cream at her. "This will help your hands."
She opened the tube and spread a thin layer on both palms. "Thank you." She passed the tube back to him as she toed off her sneakers.
"Anything else I should know about tonight?" He was beat. He resettled on the ottoman as she stretched out on the couch and pulled the comforter around her. But he would stay up as long as he was getting information from her. Angie, the traitor, hopped on the couch and curled up at their guest's feet. She'd apparently lost interest in a midnight snack.
Newton gave her head a little shake.
"Did you get a look at the person who allegedly pushed then chased you?"
Those curiously blue eyes met his in challenge. "He wore a black ski mask."
"How tall was he? And you're sure it was a he?"
She thought about that a moment. "Your height or taller. Yes, definitely a he."
Kale was still skeptical. "Heavy? Thin?"
"Medium."
"When he was chasing you, did he fall behind like he was out of shape or did he keep up?" Physical fitness could be indicative of age.
This was nuts. Who would do this sort of thing?
She shook her head. "I don't think he was really trying to catch me. I think he might have been trying to scare me off but got a little carried away."
"What makes you think that?"
Uneasiness had started to nudge Kale. If she was telling the truth… if any of the villagers had decided to take matters into their own hands and go to this extreme…
Not good.
He would have to talk to Patterson and Willard about this.
Yet, not a single name came to mind of anyone who would be capable of such a thing.
"Because he was right behind me in the woods," Newton explained. "Didn't seem to have a problem catching up or keeping up with me. He was close enough that when I fell, he grabbed me by the ankle. But I got away and then he never caught up with me again. As if he'd accomplished what he'd set out to do."
"We'll talk to the chief about this in the morning." He rubbed his neck. No one was going to be happy to hear it.
