by Terri Reed
The two women exchanged a glance.
“She mentioned family, but I was under the impression they were estranged,” Mrs. Tipple said.
Vivian nodded. “That’s true, but it is Christmas. She may have decided it was time to mend some fences. It’s so sad to be alone at this time of the year.”
“Too true,” Mrs. Tipple agreed. “At our age, one doesn’t want to leave this world with unfinished business.”
Mrs. Tipple’s words resonated through Kris. That sounded reasonable. “Is Denise ill?”
“No,” Mrs. Tipple said then frowned. “At least I don’t remember her being ill. Though there has been a touch of the flu going around.”
“Flu season.” Vivian shrugged. “You’d have to ask the doc or Ms. Faust.”
She doubted Ms. Faust would be receptive to any more questions. “Thank you, ladies. I should make sure Grams doesn’t need help with her coat.”
Kris found Sadie standing in the middle of the room, coat in hand, a bemused expression on her face. She stared at Kris. “I have my coat. Are we going somewhere? I do so love to have adventures.”
Kris’s heart dropped. Had she forgotten already? “We’re driving to Rhode Island to see Denise.”
Sadie frowned. “She’s not there. Why would she go there?”
“That’s what we’ll find out,” Kris said.
Sadie brightened. “All right then. Let’s go, Krissy, we don’t have all day. It’s a long ride.”
Sadie shuffled toward the door.
“Uh, Grams, shouldn’t you put on some shoes?”
Sadie blinked and looked down at her fuzzy slippered feet. “Oh, my, yes. These won’t do all at.”
Hating to see her grandmother so befuddled, Kris helped her change into a pair of sturdy-soled, leather shoes.
At the front desk, Kris signed Sadie out of the center without any fuss. Outside, the frigid December air turned their breaths to puffs of smoke as they made their way across the parking lot to the compact car Sadie had given to Kris when it had become clear Sadie could no longer drive.
Kris halted with a gasp.
“Krissy?”
Her mouth had gone dry, preventing any words from escaping. Fear and outrage vied for prominence in her thoughts.
Someone had slashed all four tires.
SIX
Kris scanned the parking lot and saw no one amid the few cars. Whoever had done this was long gone, and as far as she could tell, only her car had been vandalized.
A deep sense of violation embedded itself inside Kris, right next to a big heap of fear. Someone had known her plans. How? She shuddered with growing horror.
She had to tell Gabe.
Taking Sadie by the arm, she propelled her back toward the center.
“We aren’t going?” Sadie asked.
“Not today. I just realized I have a flat tire.” Four to be exact.
Kris reached for the center doors just as Gabe opened the door. His surprised gaze slid to Sadie and then Kris. “What’s up?”
“We can’t go find my friend today,” Sadie said.
Kris stomach tumbled at the forlorn look on Sadie’s face. She wrapped an arm around Sadie’s shoulder. “We’ll go another time, Grams. Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”
He raised his eyebrows as he opened the door for them.
“I’ll explain later.” She squeezed his arm as she passed him. “Go check out my car.”
His gaze sharpened, darkened with concern. “You okay?”
Touched that his first question was of her well-being, she welcomed the curl of warmth wrapping around her, smothering her distress. “With you here, I am.”
The second the words left her mouth, she realized how revealing they were and another sort of fear engulfed her.
He blinked, barely concealing the pleased surprise in his mesmerizing eyes. He gave a curt nod. “Good to know.”
He left to see the damage done to her car, while Kris wondered at the damage she was allowing to her heart.
“Thanks, Angie,” Gabe said before following Kris out of the police sedan.
Angie had driven them to the station and stopped next to his vehicle. She now regarded him with a mixture of concern and wariness. “Are you sure about this?”
Gabe glanced over his shoulder at Kris waiting patiently by the passenger door. She was so pretty with the winter sun touching her hair like a cool kiss. He fought for detachment, but found little. He’d do whatever necessary to protect her. He turned back to Angie. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay, then. I’ll let you know if we find anything useful on the car.”
“Thanks, you’re the best.”
She stared straight ahead. “Right. You know the vandalism might not have anything to do with the retirement center.” She slid her dark-eyed gaze back to him. “Are you sure your friend isn’t mixed up in something else?”
“The thought has crossed my mind.” Kris took pictures for a living. What if she’d captured something on film that someone didn’t want revealed? Or was there something more sinister? He’d have to find out.
“Be careful.”
“Always.”
As soon as the door clicked shut, Angie drove away.
Clearly, she didn’t approve of his decision to go with Kris. Couldn’t be helped. If the vandalism was related to the center, then obviously someone didn’t want the missing woman found. But if there was something else going on, the best way for him to uncover the truth was by sticking close to Kris.
“Ready?” he asked as he opened the passenger door for Kris.
Squaring her shoulders, she nodded and got into the car. “Definitely.”
“Good.” He closed the door. He admired her determination and commitment, regardless that her impulsiveness concerned him. The woman she’d become also had spunk and a level head, traits he liked in a female. But he reminded himself of his partner’s warning. What else might Kris be mixed up in? Had she been telling him the truth?
As he drove them out of the city, he asked Kris more in-depth questions about her life and job.
“Why do I get the feeling I’m being interrogated?” she inquired.
Keeping his gaze on the road ahead, he replied, “I’m curious. I want to know more about you and what you’ve been doing the past eight years.”
“I might buy that if we hadn’t already covered the timeline of my life already. And now you’re questioning me about my clients?”
He decided to level with her. “I’m trying to ascertain if the vandalism could be related to your work or something else you’re involved in, rather than Sadie and her sightings.”
She huffed. “It’s not. Most of my work is commercial assignments for reputable companies. I take pictures for their ads. I don’t get involved in their affairs.”
“But maybe during a shoot you photographed something you shouldn’t?”
“I don’t see how, considering I do most of my work in my studio. You’re grasping for some explanation that doesn’t exist. Someone defaced my apartment door and slashed my tires because someone doesn’t want whatever is going on at the center to be uncovered.”
“What about your personal pictures? All the beautiful photos in your studio?”
Her eyebrows drew together. “All those pictures were taken months ago. And if all of this had to do with my work, then why the message about not asking questions? Doesn’t make sense.”
She had a point. “Tell me…why do you go by Kris Worth instead of your real name?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
She seemed to consider her words for a moment. Then said, “I wanted autonomy from the Worthington name.”
Taken aback by that revelation, he said. “Autonomy? Why? Wouldn’t using your family’s name open more doors?”
She turned to fully face him. Her expression so becomingly earnest. “That’s just it. I didn’t want doors opened because of my being born a Worthington. I want do
ors to open because of my work.”
He’d have thought she would want to capitalize on her family’s clout. The woman he’d known would have taken advantage of any open doors but apparently this new Kris, full of intrigue and honor, didn’t. He admired that about her. “How do your parents feel about that?”
She shrugged and straightened. “They don’t like it.”
The tone of her voice conveyed the conflict that he guessed raged between her and her parents. “I can imagine. It must be hard to know their daughter doesn’t want to be associated with them.”
“You make it sound like I’ve completely shut them out of my life,” she said, her voice full of hurt.
He gentled his tone. “I remember a time when their approval meant the world to you.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them and met his gaze, there was such determination in those blue depths. “Not anymore. I realized that my need for their approval was also their way of controlling me.”
“That’s very enlightened of you.”
One corner of her mouth rose in a self-effacing smile. “Years of therapy.”
He sucked in a breath as concern arched through him. Was she the one with the mental issues, not Sadie? He dismissed that thought quickly. Seeing a counselor was a very common practice nowadays. And it was healthier for her to talk through her problems with a trained professional than…what he did. He buried himself in his job so he didn’t have to deal with his issues. That was a disturbing thought. One he really didn’t want to examine too closely. “Are you still seeing your therapist?”
She shook her head. “No. Not since I returned from Europe three months ago. I prayed a lot about it and didn’t feel God leading me to continue.”
“God talks to you?” That did sound a bit on the edge of reason.
She chuckled softly. “Yes. Not in an audible voice. It’s more of an inner knowledge.” She made a face. “It’s hard to explain.”
His doubts about God rose sharply. “I’ll bet.”
She narrowed her gaze. “You said you’ve experienced gut feelings.”
He knew where she was going with this. “Yes. I know you think that they were God protecting me.”
She nodded. “I do. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”
He didn’t have an answer. There was nothing concrete to prove or disprove her claim. And that bugged him. He liked absolutes even though life was unpredictable.
A thick silence stretched between them.
She shifted on the seat. “You know, it occurs to me we never talk about you or your family. Why is that?”
A knot formed in his stomach. “Nothing to say.”
“How’s your mother?”
“Good.”
“Did she ever marry the doctor?”
Surprise flickered deep inside. She’d remembered while he hadn’t thought about that in years. “I’d forgotten about him. No, that fizzled out like all of her relationships.”
“Does she have many?”
He gave a tight laugh as old hurts resurfaced. “Yes. Mom’s always on the quest for true love.” He scoffed. “Like it exists.”
She let out a tiny gasp. “You’ve never been in love?”
He briefly met her gaze. Kris sucked in air as she stared at the pain there. Obviously he’d loved someone once. Not her, though. Her, he’d walked away from and never looked back. She hated that that ancient wound still throbbed.
A loud bang startled her. The SUV shuddered and fishtailed as a tire blew.
Gabe yelled, “Get down.” With one hand he pushed her toward the floorboard.
A second later a deafening noise reverberated within the vehicle and the passenger window exploded inward. Kris screamed as a shower of glass rained down on her, stinging her exposed flesh. They hadn’t accidently blown a tire as she’d first thought.
Someone was shooting at them. Panic rioted within her, constricting her breathing. Surreal horror clouded her vision.
The squealing of the tires and the sickening, out-of-control movements of the vehicle on the slick, snowy road sent more waves of terror down her spine and words burst from her mouth. “Please, Jesus, save us.”
Gabe’s expression was granite hard as he tried to maintain control of the vehicle.
But it was the blood seeping through his coat jacket on the top of his shoulder that sent her breathing into panic mode.
He’d been shot!
Please, God, don’t let him die.
With adrenaline pumping through his body, Gabe brought the SUV to a limping halt alongside the shoulder of the highway. He’d driven as far as the vehicle could go; now they were sitting ducks if their shooter chose to come after them.
Keeping his head low and his eyes alert, he turned off the engine. He withdrew his weapon from his holster with one hand while he dialed 9–1-1 on his cell with the other. For a flash of a second he considered handing the phone to Kris, but she was so tightly balled up on the floor, he didn’t want to take precious moments while she got herself together enough to make the emergency call.
In a voice remarkably calm considering how tight his throat muscles felt, he explained the situation to the operator and hung up with the assurance that backup was on its way.
“Gabe?”
His heart squeezed with fear. Realizing how close Kris had come to being plugged full of lead made a ripple of terror run through him, chased quickly by rage. She could have been killed. “You okay?”
“I think so.” Glass glittered in her blond hair like little diamonds. She started to rise from her crouched position on the floor.
Putting his hand out to stop her, he said, “Stay down.”
She stilled and frowned at him. “But you’re hurt.”
He glanced at his shoulder, the stinging pain just barely registering. Blood seeped through the gaping hole in his suit jacket, staining the navy material a darker crimson. Droplets of his blood were splattered on the window. The slug was embedded in the door frame. “Just a grazing. Superficial.”
He flung open the door. Kris’s big blue eyes stared at him with questions and concern. “I need to assess the damage to the car,” he explained.
With his senses on high alert, he cautiously climbed out. Disregarding the pain radiating down his arm, he held his gun in a two-handed grip, pointed down and at the ready. Putting the vehicle between him and the few cars that zoomed past, his gaze raked over the snowy countryside along the stretch of highway. The bare trees provided little hiding space for a sniper now.
Where had the shooter been hiding?
He remembered they’d passed a service road a few miles back. The shooter had obviously driven down the road until out of view and walked to the tree line where he had taken his shots.
Anger for not having had the foresight to think of an ambush made Gabe’s blood pressure rise. He let loose with a vicious kick to the shredded remains of the front tire.
Kris sat up. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” His foot throbbed as his fury simmered his blood.
The whir of sirens approaching at a fast clip filled the air. Within minutes two French blue Massachusetts state cruisers with their distinctive electric-blue striping flanked the disabled SUV. Four state troopers emerged from the vehicles, their flat-brimmed navy hats pulled low over their ears and the collars of their dark blue jackets turned up against the cold. The troopers fanned out, black boots crunching over the packed snow.
A white-and-blue-striped ambulance arrived within seconds. The EMTs jumped out and rushed over to Gabe and Kris.
“I’m not hurt,” Kris declared to the paramedic who was trying to take her blood pressure. “Take care of him.”
“We are, ma’am,” the man replied.
After a paramedic tended to his wound by cleaning and bandaging his shoulder and putting his arm in a sling, Gabe explained the situation to the officer in charge.
“So you had a civilian with you while investigating the disappearance of a
woman from a retirement center?”
Gabe flinched at the censure in Trooper Davidson’s tone. A tall man with deep-set eyes and a full mustache, he had a no-nonsense demeanor that inspired confidence and undoubtedly instilled intimidation in most folks.
“I didn’t expect trouble. I figured we’d find the lady safe with her relatives and Kris, uh, Miss Worthington, could stop worrying.”
“Well, sounds to me like someone doesn’t want you all to find the lady.”
Gabe’s shoulder burned. “Looks like.”
“I’ll take you and Miss Worthington back to Boston,” said Davidson. “I’ve sent a car down that service road you mentioned. They’ll search the area, hopefully find some casings, and if we’re lucky, maybe something to nail the creep who did this.”
“How far are we from Woonsocket?”
“Ten, fifteen miles.”
Frustration pounded at Gabe’s temple. “Would you take us to Woonsocket first? Someone went to an awful lot of trouble to keep us from our destination. I really wouldn’t want them to win.”
Davidson contemplated him for a moment. “Not my jurisdiction.”
“You would just be transport. Nothing official.”
He seemed to consider before answering. “I s’pose we could take a detour. What happens if the lady in question is there?”
Gabe shrugged and winced at the pain radiating from the wound on his shoulder. “We verify that she’s safe. Nothing else.”
“And if she’s not?”
“Then I have a lot of work to do.”
“All right.” He turned toward his men. “Gonzales, Smith, stay here with the vehicle until the tow truck arrives to take it to the crime lab.”
Davidson gestured toward his cruiser, where Kris sat waiting. “Let’s go.”
Gabe slid onto the front seat then looked at Kris. “You sure you’re not hurt?”
“Yes. Just a few superficial cuts from the glass. You?” She gestured to his shoulder.
“Can barely feel it. Davidson agreed to take us to the Jamesens before returning us to Boston. You okay with that?”
“Of course,” she stated, her gaze determined. “We can’t let the bad guys win.”
Gabe grinned, liking her spirit. “No, we can’t.”
