by Vella Day
“Lilly’s son, Justin, is engaged to my sister,” he said with a cheerfulness Kelly never remembered hearing before.
“I told you, she don’t have no son. Maybe you got the wrong Lilly Bladen.”
“Okay, maybe we do, but can you tell us a little about your neighbor?” Derek’s voice came out so gentle, Kelly had to strain to hear him.
“Well,” Madeline began. “She’s a strange one, if you know what I mean.”
This was the second time someone had used that phrase. Kelly leaned forward thinking the woman might respond better to her questions. “Could you be more specific?”
“She belongs to this group. I’m not sure exactly what they do or what they’re called, but the best I can figure, it has something to do with purifying the world.”
Mrs. Wolfendon had been right.
“Purifying the world?” Derek said just as Kelly opened her mouth to ask the same question.
“Well, you know, like Hitler tried to do.” Madeline’s lips pressed together so hard they turned white.
Given Madeline’s last name was Cohen, Kelly wondered if Lilly and she didn’t see eye to eye because of religious differences.
“Do you know where I could contact someone from this organization?” Derek asked.
Madeline’s hand raced to her chest. “Of course not. I don’t want to know anything about them.” She pressed her hands on the sofa and stood. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
Hopefully, the work included cleaning. Kelly Lynn. That’s mean. Too bad. She wasn’t in a good mood. Derek stood up and Kelly followed.
He placed his card on the table. “If you see Lilly Bladen, could you give me a call?”
Madeline cocked a brow. “Is she in some sort of trouble?”
“No, she’s not.”
“Oh.” The woman sounded disappointed.
Derek grabbed Kelly’s hand and practically dragged her out of the trailer. The moment they were out of earshot, she took a deep breath to clear her head.
“That didn’t go very well, did it?” she asked.
“Never does in an investigation.”
She looked to the clear sky. “We’ve got a lot of daylight left. What’s next?”
“We find this white supremacist cult.”
19
Derek disconnected as he pulled up to the stoplight, his mind racing faster than the engine.
“What did Mariani say?” Kelly asked.
He didn’t feel right blurting out his disappointment, but getting this mess off his chest might do him a world of good. Derek needed to share—wanted to share, actually. He hoped like hell he wasn’t creating more problems between them by telling her.
“The white supremacist group Lilly Bladen supposedly belonged to no longer exists, or so Mariani believes.” He glanced over at her and then the wheel. “Damn it. We were so close. If only I could have talked to Justin’s mom, I might have figured out why he freaked and killed Rayne.”
“Aren’t you jumping to conclusions?”
He wasn’t in the mood to address her accusation. It was easier to avoid the issue than deal with it. “Mariani did say one of the leaders of the group was a guy by the name of Elton McDermitt.”
“Was? As in dead was?”
A horn blared behind him. Green light meant go. Derek pressed too hard on the gas pedal, and Kelly slammed back against the headrest.
“Sorry.” Too bad his frustration didn’t make his apology sound sincere.
She brushed the hair from her face. “Don’t try to stall, Derek Benally. You can’t fool me.”
He never could, so why did he try? Shit, he didn’t know. “Okay. To answer your question, no, the guy’s not dead, only the group is, or they’ve gone underground.”
“Time out. Aren’t we here to find Justin?”
“Yes.”
Derek turned left onto what might be mistaken for the main road. Though in this town, nothing looked particularly main about it. When his stomach grumbled, he decided the hunt could wait.
“Then how does unearthing all this stuff about his mom help?” she asked.
He gave up. “We find the group, we find his mom, who hopefully will lead us to Justin.”
Kelly leaned her head back against the seat, looking exhausted. He never should have let her come, but he was weak around her, way too weak.
“Are you planning to drive up to this pervert’s house and ask if he belonged, or belongs, to some kind of Nazi skinhead group? And then ask where Lilly Bladen is?”
Derek glanced over at her and smiled for the first time in days. Or was it weeks? For a second, she sounded seventeen again, asking sweet, innocent questions. “In this case, I don’t think the direct approach will work. Mariani told me about a bar where some of the more self-righteous people hang out, if you get my drift. I’m hoping to get some background on this guy.”
“And you want us to go where they’d just as soon run over an animal or kill a person of color than change their clothes?”
The hint of fear in her tone made him feel guilty. Not that he blamed her, but did she think he’d actually take her someplace unsafe?
He searched the strip mall they were passing, looking for a food joint. He’d even take fast food if the place had a McDonalds.
“I want to get a bite to eat first, and then find a room for the night. While you’re snuggled in the bed watching TV, I’ll go to Dave’s Place and see what I can learn.”
Derek kept watch for a place to eat while he waited for her wave of anger to hit.
“Not on your life,” Kelly said right on cue, sitting up straight. “We’re in this together in case you’ve forgotten. Where you go, I go. Besides, you don’t exactly look all-American.” She took a deep breath. “If you walk into a bar where people only like lily-white people, no pun intended, they might beat the crap out of you.” She rushed on before he could set her straight. “Those blue eyes may fool some people, but your dark skin won’t be mistaken for the English gentry.”
He bristled. “Few people mistake me for being Native American. I just look tan, not dark-skinned, as you say. Remember, I’m part Irish.”
“Regardless, you’ll look less out of place if I’m along.”
“We’ll see.” Not on his life. “Hey, there’s a Denny’s. I can’t believe this town even has a chain restaurant.”
“You act as though you’ve never been to one before.”
His initial enthusiasm had been faked for her sake, but then nostalgia bit him. “Don’t you remember how the whole football team and their dates took up most of the restaurant on Saturday nights?” Good times. Boy, had his life changed.
“Of course,” Kelly said.
Why did she sound so sad? Was she thinking of how much fun they used to have? Or did she regret wasting time with him when she could have been with a different crowd?
He shook his head to rid his mind of past mistakes and pulled into the mostly empty restaurant lot. No doubt about it. He shouldn’t have allowed her to come. Kelly was too much of a distraction, and Utah was turning out to be a worse place than he’d expected.
Derek knocked on the door connecting their motel rooms. Given this cheap one-story had less than twenty rooms, Kelly was surprised they had what the desk clerk called a suite.
“Just a sec,” she called out as she stuffed her underwear in the drawer. She twisted the lock on her side and pulled.
“I want to keep this doors unlocked,” Derek said as he stepped past her. “Not that I expect anything to happen, but I want to be able to come in if you receive an unexpected visitor.”
A small chill rippled through her stomach, but the trail of his aftershave helped calm her. “What do you mean an unexpected visitor?”
He walked to the window and looked out to the parking lot but didn’t answer.
God, did he look good. Powerful, hot, secure. Stop it, Kelly. Not the time, not the place, not the circumstance. “A visitor? Who do you expect?”
“No one in particular, but word spreads in a small town. If Justin is here, he might try something.” He closed the curtain and faced her. “I’m heading to the bar now.”
“So soon?” She looked a mess. “Give me sec to freshen up.”
“Kelly, you aren’t going.” His firm tone made her bristle.
“Now wait a minute. We had an agreement.” Her hands seemed to plant themselves on her hips.
“You had an agreement. Bars like Dave’s Place aren’t safe for women, especially good looking women.”
She should have been pleased with the compliment, but her anger overshadowed the emotion. “I am too going.”
“No!”
“Yes. I’m not staying here alone. What if Justin comes and tries to kill me?” Not that she believed it, but Derek had dropped his name.
His face turned to stone and his gaze shot through her. “If you lock your door, you’ll be safe.”
He turned and walked out of her room. No tenderness, no apology. No nothing.
She couldn’t believe it.
So, snap out of it. Do something.
Kelly raced to the dresser and pulled out her purse. As she shot through the front door, Derek was backing out of the parking space. She sprinted after him as he eased down the road and shook her hand in the air. Dumb jerk didn’t even slow down. Of course, he might not have seen her.
Shoulders sagging, she trudged back to the room—to think, to plan, and to plot.
“Yes?”
“You told me to call you if anyone showed up asking questions?” the informant said.
“Who came?”
“There were two of them. A real tall guy, kind of dark skinned, built –”
“Derek Benally. He’s a cop from Tampa. And the other one?”
“A hot little number. Red curly hair and a bod ready for action.”
“That would be Kelly Rutland. Dr. Kelly Rutland. Here’s what I want you to do.”
“As long as I get to sample her when I’m done, I’ll do what you say.”
“Suit yourself.”
The bitch needed to suffer, to realize that stirring up old messes would have dire consequences.
Kelly was tired of waiting around. The TV was mostly static, and the stations that came in clear held no interest for her. And then there was the smell. The place was a dump. Between the smoke and mildew, she was convinced she’d have a full-blown sinus infection by morning.
What was taking Derek so long? How long did it take to ask a few questions? She was no psychic, but the creepy feeling that had invaded her body about and hour ago wouldn’t go away.
She didn’t know where the bar was, but given the size of the town, it couldn’t be that far away. Derek was either lying in a ditch with a bloodied face or enjoying himself, playing pool.
In either case, she couldn’t just sit and twiddle her thumbs any longer. Though she wasn’t a trained professional, she had her ways of extracting information. Someone had to know something about Justin Bladen.
Headlights flashed in her motel window, and she pulled open the shades and spotted the yellow cab she’d called. She checked the mirror once more. The fairly low cut top gave a hint of cleavage, but wasn’t so low as to invite disaster.
With her purse slung over her shoulder, she stepped outside, and cool, clean air filled her lungs.
A quick burst of indecision grabbed her. Was this stupid? No, came the answer roaring back. She planned to honor her promise to Derek to stay out of trouble. If she found him safe, she’d turn around and return to the motel. That’s all. No heroics on her part.
“Where to?” the cab driver asked as she slid into the back seat.
“Dave’s Place.”
He glanced into the rear view mirror and raised a brow. “You sure? You ever been there?”
She inhaled to steel her nerves. What smelled like beer assaulted her nose.
“Lady?” the cabbie asked again.
If she stayed, she’d become more agitated. It would be better to check out the place and learn if Derek needed her. “No I haven’t, but I’m meeting a friend there.”
He shrugged. “It’s your dollar.”
The trip took less than ten minutes, which was almost close enough to have walked. But she wouldn’t have chanced it—not at night in a strange, little town with more motorcycles than cars. And with Justin possibly out to get her.
“Do you want me to wait?” he asked in a bored tone.
“If you wouldn’t mind.” Kelly glanced at the man’s license when she opened the door. John Miller.
She got out and handed John Miller the fare. “This shouldn’t take long.”
Motorcycles littered the dirt packed parking lot along with a lot of pickups. A brisk breeze rushed past her, and Kelly rubbed her arms to ward off goose bumps.
Off to the side of the drinking establishment sat their rental car, and a quick shot of relief surged through her. Thank goodness Derek hadn’t left—or been chased out of town.
An overhead light, mounted above the door, was aimed straight at her, forcing her to shield her eyes from the glare. Atop the roof a blue neon sign announced Dave’s Place, except the P and L weren’t lit so it read, Dave’s ace.
Noise masquerading as country music shook the small wooden structure. Taking a deep breath, Kelly marched toward the door with one hand in her pocket, grasping a small tube of mace.
As she took a step inside, smoke blasted her. The stench of beer was so strong she almost gagged, but Kelly refrained from slapping a hand over her nose. Whoa. Wall-to-wall bodies either gyrated to the music in the middle of the dance floor or were crammed into little booths or onto stools. Peanut shells crunched under her feet as she moved further inside.
“Howdy,” said a scruffy-looking, chinless man with coffee-stained teeth. Hands in his pockets, he materialized in front of her, standing too close for comfort.
Kelly stopped inhaling until the smell of his breath dissipated. She took a step backward. “Maybe you can help me. I’m looking for my husband. He’s a real big guy.”
His eyes widened. “You married?”
Could she have a husband without being married? Maybe he thought she meant an ex-husband. “Yes.”
“Bald guy?”
“Yes, again.”
“He’s dancin’ with Nancy.” Chinless pointed to a section of the room that disappeared behind the bar.
“Thank you.”
Dancing with Nancy? Kelly wanted to rush over and grab Derek, but her legs turned heavy as lead. After taking a deep breath, and not choking, she pushed her way through a cast of thousands until she could see Derek and a petite blonde looking up adoringly at him.
Men grabbed at Kelly and whistled as she made her way toward the side of the bar. She ignored all of them, her focus solely on the man she’d come half across the country with.
Derek whirled Nancy around and smiled down at his partner. Smiled. Like he wanted her. And this would get them closer to finding her sister’s killer, how?
Furious, Kelly spun around to flee. The music stopped for a mere second before changing to the Billy Cyrus song, “Some Gave All.” She liked some country songs, but not enough to stop and listen. Almost to the door, a hand reached up and grabbed her arm.
“Hey, sweetie, what’s the hurry?”
Kelly looked down and had a hard time distinguishing between the carved design on the table and the man’s tattoos. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
He let go quicker than if a snake had bitten him. Wimp. Keeping her gaze focused on the front door, she raced outside. No one stopped her this time.
Thankfully, Mr. Miller was still in his cab. Windows down, he was smoking up a storm. She jumped in the back seat and nearly gagged from the tobacco’s disgusting odor. “Take me back to the motel.”
“Your guy’s not there?”
“No.”
Kelly’s mind spun. Furious at Derek, she wanted to strangle him. He’d come here to do a job, and he’d ended up ha
ving a little fling with a local floozy. Good thing he meant nothing to her or she’d be really hurt.
After paying the cab fare, Kelly jumped out when they reached the hotel. John Miller took off so fast gravel kicked up from his tires and nailed her in the legs. “Hey, watch it, jerk face!” she shouted.
She didn’t care if she woke up the whole place. Stupid Silverton. Nothing was working out as planned.
As Kelly strode toward her room, she fumbled for her key in her purse. Why the hell had Derek put the thought into her head that someone might come after her? Now she’d never sleep.
Kelly opened the door into pure darkness and froze. Could someone have gotten inside and was waiting for her? Nonsense. Stuff like that only happened in movies, right?
Not wanting to be labeled too-stupid-to-live, she stayed in the doorframe, ready to bolt as she ran her hand along the side of the door, not recalling if the lone light on the nightstand had a wall switch.
She couldn’t find one. Damn.
She listened for breathing or any movement inside the room. Only the hum of the lights outside her door filled the silence.
Stop being paranoid. You’re safe.
Kelly crept inside the room, leaving the door ajar where the light from the walkway spilled into the room. Careful not to knock into the bed, she fumbled for the light switch on the lamp. Click. The yellowed light shone brighter than a beacon, and Kelly’s tight muscles relaxed.
Whoa. The bed was turned down and a bottle of wine sat next to a plastic glass on the nightstand. Now that was a surprise.
Exhaling loudly, Kelly rushed back to the door and locked it. She twisted the deadbolt, and as an added measure, secured the door with the chain.
Safe at last, she slumped against the door.
What a minute. This dump had maid service at night? Not likely. And where had the wine come from?
She stepped over to the nightstand where a note sat neatly folded next to the bottle.
She picked up the heavy stock card and read it. “Enjoy—Derek.”
Perhaps he’d been guilty at leaving her in the room all night, prompting him to have the bottle delivered. The note wasn’t in his handwriting, but unless he’d gone to a wine shop first and signed it, it wouldn’t be. When had he had the time to order the bottle?
