by Vella Day
Was it from Dave’s Place? Maybe. He probably paid someone to deliver it. The clerk in the office would have let a local into her room.
Good. With a logical explanation in hand, she plopped down on the bed, ready to relax.
What better way to calm her nerves than with a glass of wine? No use waiting for Derek to come back. He was probably having too much fun with Nancy, or Ninnie, or whatever her name was. Had he forgotten they were here to find the white supremacist guy? And Justin?
Kelly shucked off her shoes and clothes, pulled on her nightgown and crawled into bed. Tomorrow morning she’d shower to get rid of the bar smoke that clung to her skin. Right now, all she wanted to do was relax. She’d find some comedy on TV and put Justin, Derek, and what’s her name out of her mind.
She flipped on the television. No surprise the reception sucked. She poured some wine and toasted to a good outcome of the trip.
“Come on, sweetie, one more dance.” Nancy leaned closer to his ear.
Derek had a headache from the loud music and the smell of B.O. “I’ve got to go.” Derek tried to pull her arms from around his waist, but Nancy seemed determined to keep him in her grasp. “It’s getting late, but I’m going to see you tomorrow, right?”
She thrust out her bottom lip and pressed her crotch to his. Irritation snaked through him as he moved out of reach. Now, if Kelly were standing in front of him that would be a different story.
“Yes, but when we’re at Granddaddy’s, we have to behave. He doesn’t believe people should express their emotional side in public, if you get my drift.” She lifted her hand to his cheek. Before her finger reached its destination, Derek grabbed her hand.
“Tomorrow at seven.”
She pulled her arm down, attempting to look coy. He stepped back and patted his front pocket where he’d placed the directions to her grandfather’s house. “Got the directions right here.”
“Do ya think afterwards we can go back to my place?”
Not in this lifetime he wanted to say, but of course, he didn’t. “We’ll see.”
She smiled. “So you’re the hard-to-get type, huh?”
Derek smiled and winked. His father always did claim he could make a fortune at poker. With a slow, even stride, he left the sleazy bar. He’d heard enough racial slurs to last a lifetime. Fortunately, none seemed to have been aimed at him.
There was a nip in the air, but without the dampness he was accustomed to in Tampa, the coolness helped rejuvenate rather than chill.
The rental car started without a hitch, and he was thankful no one had sabotaged the engine. That meant he’d fooled everyone inside in no small part due to Nancy’s acceptance. Once she’d latched onto him, the elbow jabs had stopped.
He prayed when he returned to the hotel, Kelly would be safe. And asleep.
Derek pulled up to the motel and ducked into his room, needing a shower. Bad. The smoke had dug deep into his pores. Two men had spilled beer on him, and it had been no an accident either. Until he’d convinced Nancy to dance with him, he’d received nothing less than cold stares. Outsiders were not welcome in Silverton. That much they’d made clear.
He closed the bathroom door, just in case Kelly heard him come in and wanted to hear every detail of his evening.
No use worrying her now about what he’d uncovered.
After he showered, he slipped into bed, hoping for a good night’s sleep, forcing his mind to relax. Unfortunately, visions of Kelly intruded. Damn. He took long, slow breaths, counting backward, hoping to stop the erotic dreams.
Frustrated he couldn’t sleep, Derek tried to sit up, but some white light blinded him, and horses galloped beside him. Heat, heavier than a wet blanket, sat on his shoulders. Derek pulled on the reins to stop the jarring movement. What the fuck was going on? He’d been given no warning this time before the spirit guides sucked him to a place he didn’t want to go.
“Keep going. We shall rest soon,” came a strong, powerful voice next to him.
Derek looked over. The same Chief from before rode by his side. “Where are we going?” he asked, knowing full well he wouldn’t get a satisfactory answer.
No surprise, the chief remained silent. Derek’s throat was parched and his skin prickled from the sun beating down on his unprotected skin. He studied the landscape, hoping for some clues as to the time and place.
An abandoned, rusted car sat next to two small trees. Delighted he’d narrowed down the century, Derek relaxed into the saddle. Suddenly, a covered wagon edged over a hill in the distance. Huh?
Some type of Native American village appeared out of the blue, sheltered under a copse of trees, where none had been before. This dream made no sense.
His horse halted, nearly throwing Derek to the ground again, and anger rushed up his gut. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Get down.”
20
Miffed and anxious, Derek dismounted, understanding that now wasn’t the time to piss off the Chief.
Derek ran his hands down soft, hand pounded animal skin, and then looked down and what he was wearing. When the hell had he changed into tribal dress? And how had his guides known where he was or how to contact him when he hadn’t even brought his sage to Utah?
“Come.”
There was too much to think about. Right now he needed to figure out what was going on. The retreating back of his tormentor forced Derek to move his feet.
Finally he’d get to see what all these trips were about.
The rocky ground bit into his thin moccasins, but he ignored the discomfort. A tall bald man in blue jeans wearing the same shirt Derek had worn to Dave’s Place stood with his back to the village. The man didn’t move when a white man kicked one of the young native boys. When Derek tried to rush forward, an arm shot out and stopped him.
“Watch and learn.”
Watch and learn what? “Do something,” Derek shouted to the bald man, then glared at the chief.
“He can’t hear or see you.”
“Is that me?” Though how the bald man who dressed like him could actually be him, he didn’t know.
“Have patience.”
“What is this place?” Sweat dripped down his back and bugs nipped at his bare arms. This dream felt real enough.
“It is who you are.”
Anger walloped him in the gut, but he tamped down the urge to fight. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your prejudices have become your guide. You can not move on until you free yourself.”
Free himself? What bullshit. “I’m not prejudiced.”
As Derek waited for an explanation that made sense, the scene disappeared and his body returned to the soft mattress of his bed, cushioning his body. Damn it. Just when he was on the precipice of learning something important, the spirit guides split.
Derek flicked on the light by the nightstand, hoping for a clue, but nothing in the room had changed, other than the fact the clock showed he’d lost an hour.
He checked his clothing, finding no moccasins and no buckskin, only good old-fashioned boxers. Twenty-first century stuff.
His arm itched where several welts dotted his arms.
“Damn. Mosquitoes.”
He shot out of bed to check to check if he’d left the window open. The insects must have gotten in somehow or else the sheets were infested.
The blur between reality and his dreams was starting to eat at him. Had his imagination caused the images? Now he wasn’t so sure.
He could use a dose of the real world. Derek glanced at the closed door between his room and Kelly’s. Sound from her television seemed louder, as though she hadn’t changed the volume when a new show had come on.
Derek headed over to check on her, to see her, to know something in his life was tangible.
As slowly as possible, Derek opened the door, and for once it didn’t squeak. Lights on, Kelly was still. Her eyes were closed, and she looked like an angel, her red glossy hair rippling across the white pillowcas
e. A bottle of wine sat next to her bed on the nightstand.
He took a step closer. The bottle was nearly full. Hmm. She hadn’t had much to drink.
Hey. How had a bottle of the alcohol gotten there? The room didn’t have a mini bar. Had she ordered it? From where? Silverton must be more sophisticated than he’d thought.
At least no danger had come to her while he’d been at Dave’s. He slipped back into his room, determined to get some sleep.
“Kelly?” Derek shook her shoulder but received no response.
A strong shot of light speared through the partially closed drapes. She hadn’t responded to his pounding on the door either.
Thinking a blast of light would rouse her, he threw open the curtains to flood the room, and dust motes swam in the air. He coughed from the intense particle storm. She moaned and his relief surprised him.
He expected her to open her eyes, only she didn’t. Her breaths came in shorts puffs, but the steady rise and fall of her chest convinced him she was okay. Just in case, he placed a palm on her forehead, and the heat nearly singed his skin.
Derek dropped down onto the bed and grabbed her hand.
“Kelly, can you hear me?” He waited a moment. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”
No response.
Fear rushed into every vein. Derek whipped out his phone and called 9-1-1.
“Mr. Benally?”
Derek looked up from the magazine. A tired looking doctor with the Salt Lake City Hospital insignia partially covered by his nameplate with kind eyes approached. The doc was small in stature—at least compared to him and was dressed in starched whites. He flipped through his charts before making eye contact.
“How is she?” Derek closed the magazine, his mouth dry. He hadn’t finished reading even one article in the three hours he’d been waiting to hear of Kelly’s progress. He looked down at his nails. Damn. His fingernails were bitten to the quick, but Derek didn’t remember chewing them. He never bit his nails.
The doctor sat down next to him in the nearly empty waiting room. “She’s going to be fine.”
His shoulders sagged as he let out a long held breath. “That’s great. What happened to her?”
“She was poisoned with Ketamine. Well, maybe poison isn’t the right word.”
“As in Special-K?”
“Yes, I see you’ve heard of it. Kids use it to get high. In small doses, it can be as benign as nitrous oxide, but Kelly had over 100 mg in her system. If she’d had more than one glass of wine, the combination could have killed her.”
A shudder raced through him. The thought of losing Kelly almost made him fold. “I don’t know where she got the wine,” he said more to himself.
“When your young woman is more oriented, we’ll ask her. She’s still groggy from the drug.”
“May I see her?”
He hesitated. “Yes, but only for a little while. I don’t want to tire her.”
“Of course not.”
Derek followed the doctor into Kelly’s room, anxiety racing through him. Her red hair was matted with sweat, and dark shadows under her closed eyes made her appear as if she’d seen death and not yet fully returned.
“I’ll be back to check on her,” the doctor said as he headed out.
“Thanks, Doc.” Derek pulled up the heavy, padded chair next to the bed and took Kelly’s hand in his. Her fine fingers lay limp in his palm.
“Kelly?” His voice cracked. If anything happened to her... Don’t even go there.
Her eyelids fluttered. Two of her fingers pressed down on his palm.
A slow fury made its way up his body. He wouldn’t leave here until he found out who’d harmed Kelly. Obviously, they’d touched a nerve by coming to Utah.
Was this a signal from someone in the bar to beware or had leaving Tampa for Salt Lake set off the alarm?
She cleared her throat. “Derek?” Her faint voice jerked his attention back to her face, and he had to bend down hear her.
“I’m here.” Derek wound one of her red curls around his finger. Bound together, as one. He let the thought slip away like a petal floating on a lake.
She opened her eyes and looked around. “I’m in a hospital? What happened?”
“You ingested Ketamine.”
“Ketamine? How?” She closed her eyes for a moment then opened them. “Oh my God. I thought the wine tasted funny.” She licked her cracked lips. “Someone must have tampered with the bottle.”
At least one piece of the puzzle was solved. “I’ll have Mariani do a lab sample.”
“I do appreciate you sending it though.”
She wasn’t making any sense. “What are you talking about? I didn’t order any wine.”
“But the note said you sent the bottle.”
A chill raced down his spine and grabbed his gut. “Kelly, I had nothing to do with the wine. What exactly did the note say?”
“From Derek. It wasn’t in your handwriting, but I figured you’d called it in, or something.” Her eyes closed for a moment. He shouldn’t push her, but he needed answers.
“I didn’t send anything. Are you sure it said my name?”
Her eyelids fluttered open. “Yes. I thought it was sweet. I only had one glass though. I must have fallen asleep right away.”
His mind went into cop mode. It was easier than thinking Kelly had almost died. “Who delivered the wine?”
“It was in my room when I returned.”
A fresh wave of anger hit so hard it stunned him. “What do you mean when you returned? Where did you go?” He hadn’t meant to yell, but where Kelly was concerned, he lacked restraint.
“I went to find you at... at Dave’s Place.” She swallowed hard.
“You went to Dave’s Place?”
Her eyelids fluttered. “Why are you repeating everything? And stop shouting. It hurts my head, which is already throbbing.” She dragged her hands over her eyes, and then pressed the tips of her fingers to her temples.
Compassion swamped him. “I’m sorry. Now start from the beginning. Tell me everything.”
Derek tried not to lose his cool when she explained why she’d gone to the bar. It took her several minutes to get the whole story out, and he had to force himself not to interrupt.
“You see I had a good reason to go,” she said with a smile that no doubt took what was left of her waning energy.
“The ends don’t justify the means. You disobeyed a direct order.”
She groaned. “I’m not a police officer. I don’t take orders from you.” She licked her lips, looking like she could use a drink.
He didn’t want to fight. “Can’t you see something bad might have happened to you at the bar? Those men are the kind who take what they want and don’t ask for permission.” He wanted to shake her, hold her, comfort her.
“Something bad did happen to me. But you. You got to take what you wanted. I saw you dancing with that girl and having a good old time.”
“Nancy? Blonde, short, kind of cute.”
“Is that her name?”
Derek poured her a cup of water and handed it to her. She drank most of the liquid. Then it dawned on him. “You’re jealous.”
She set the Styrofoam cup on the side table. “Jealous? Are you kidding?”
“Truth?”
He’d heard that edgy tone in her voice only once before when he’d tossed the winning football to Brianna Perkins instead of to her their senior year. Maybe someday he’d tell her it was for Brianna’s little brother who was recovering from a major illness and not for Brianna.
She rubbed her stomach. “Okay, maybe a little. But only at first. You were having fun, and I was stuck in a motel room in a strange town.”
“Is that it?” Sympathy for her plight got the best of him. “The woman you saw me with was Elton McDermitt’s granddaughter.”
She took another sip of water. “Who’s Elton McDermitt?”
Maybe the drug had affected her more than he thought. He wondered if he sho
uld even answer. Knowing her stubborn streak, Kelly might find a way to follow him when he went to the old man’s house for dinner.
“Someone who might know where to find Lilly Bladen.”
Her gaze shot to the left. “McDermitt. Isn’t he the guy Mariani said might be linked to the white supremacist group?”
Cat’s out. “Yes. In fact, I have a meeting with him tonight.”
“Really?” She tried to sit up but fell back down, letting out a long breath. “Let’s hope the doctor releases me so I can meet him too.”
Damn. He couldn’t lie. “I have to go alone. I finagled a dinner date with ole granddad and Nancy. She has supper with him every Sunday. I’m hoping to pry information out of him about Lilly and Justin.”
Her face fell. “I guess my presence won’t help the situation.”
“No. But Kelly, you’ll be safer here.” Or so he hoped. He rubbed her hand, and she seemed to perk up. “Someone tried to murder you once. They may try again.” Not wanting to scare her, he kept his voice as soft as he could, but the stubborn woman needed a dose of reality.
She looked up at him, fear in her eyes. “You think so?” Her tone came out sarcastic.
Way to go, Benally. He should have kept his trap shut. “You and I have been asking questions, and we’ve obviously struck some kind of nerve here.”
“More like a vein, but why would someone poison me? I’m nobody.”
Not to him she wasn’t. She was more important than he cared to admit. “Perhaps to get at me. Someone doesn’t like us snooping.” He glanced at his watch. “I want to stop at the Sheriff’s office back in Silverton to report the attempted murder before I meet Nancy at her grandfather’s.”
She shivered. “Attempted murder sounds so ominous.’“
“It is what it is.”
“Will you stop by after your big dinner?”
“It’s a promise. But McDermitt lives back in Silverton. The commute between Salt Lake and there will take me over an hour.”
“Oh.”
“Why?”
“Having someone to talk to takes my mind off this wicked headache.”
