Cold Pursuit

by Susan Sleeman

  Could she? She wasn’t as certain. But here was this big, powerful man with a tender heart who could help her navigate these treacherous waters.

  Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a man like him by her side to help Isaiah all the time? She’d love that support, but she couldn’t give in. Couldn’t let her fears go. That was too great of a risk to take.

  14

  Alex watched as Whitney took a giant step back. It reminded him of when he played Simon Says as a kid. She didn’t look at him, but peered over his shoulder. “You mentioned wanting to talk about something.”

  She’d seemed so open to him. Open to his touch. Then she closed down and stepped back. He didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  He got out his phone to show her pictures of the people he’d interviewed when what he wanted to do was press her to find out the reason for her sudden change in mood. But what would the point be when he should never have touched her in the first place? It only led to wanting more. Like the whole hands-on-her-shoulders thing. He didn’t know her well enough to be doing that, and yet, it felt like he did know her. Very well. Like they’d been friends for years.

  How could that even be possible?

  Is that you, God?

  “You want to talk or are you going to make a call?” She pointed at his phone.

  Focus, man.

  He tapped the screen to bring up his photos. “I took pictures of each person I’ve interviewed, and I want to run them by you in case seeing them might jog something in your mind that could help us.”

  “Okay, sure.” She glanced at Zoey, and Alex did, too.

  Zoey had set down the steering wheel and was playing with the Candy Land people, bouncing them on the game board as they talked to each other about the Chocolate Swamp.

  “I’m glad to have something to do,” Whitney said. “But I really should spend a little time with Zoey before her nap time. Could I do it afterward?”

  “Sure. I’ll AirDrop the pictures to you, and you can look at them then.” He pointed at her iPhone laying on the table so they could change her settings, allowing him to send her the pictures via Apple’s Bluetooth file transfer system.

  She picked it up and tapped the screen, and as they worked through the process, it felt like he’d gone from being a close friend to an awkward stranger. Had a simple touch done all that? Put a wall between them and erased the obviously growing connection?

  “I wish I could sit in on the interviews,” she said, watching her screen as the files transferred. “But leaving this room would be foolish, and the kids need me here.”

  “I recorded the interviews for Sam. She’s clearing the porch in hopes of finding the slug and wants to listen to them later. You could listen in, too.”

  “Yes. Yes, please. I’m going stir crazy up here. I even went to the Internet to look for information on Percy thinking I might discover something.” She held up her hands. “And before you say that’s a waste of time, it was something to keep me busy.”

  “I wasn’t going to say that.” He smiled. “I think you should keep going. Read every story you can find because something might stick out for you that doesn’t mean anything to anyone else.”

  “Oh, okay, good. I’ll keep going then.” She pulled her shoulders back, a resolute look claiming her face.

  “Just remember not to get discouraged if nothing pans out. It’s—”

  “The way investigations go,” she interrupted. “I remember that from when you said it earlier, and I’m trying to stay positive.”

  Zoey toddled across the room carrying Goodnight Moon in one hand, her blanket in the other, and her eyes were drooping. “Read book.”

  Her focus was on him, and he honestly wanted to sit down and read to her, but he had a killer to find. And almost as important, he was already letting this little family distract him. He couldn’t give in every time they needed him, could he?

  Whitney closed the video of Alex’s interview with Herb and Martha Norman and leaned back on the dining chair to stretch her arms. A soft glow from the fireplace where Alex was adding another log warmed the room, but the howling wind and pelting snow against the window left the place still feeling cold.

  She shivered and got up to join him near the warmth curling up over the distressed wood mantle.

  He glanced up at her for a moment, then continued to stir the flames dancing in the box. They reflected a reddish hue on his glossy dark hair. He was squatting close to the fire, his pants taut over muscular thighs, and he hefted large logs with little effort, balancing gracefully on the balls of his feet as he moved. He brushed his hands off over the wood pile and closed the screen.

  He came to his feet with grace and welcomed her with such a sweet smile, she could swear her toes curled in her shoes, and she had to look away before she touched that little scar by his mouth.

  “Need a break?” he asked.

  She forced herself to look back at him. “I have a question.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Your target. The gun runner. It’s Frisco McCray, isn’t it?”

  Acknowledgement flashed in his eyes for the briefest of seconds. If she hadn’t been so focused on him, she would have missed it.

  “Even if it is, and I’m not saying it is, you know I can’t tell you that.”

  “You don’t have to. Your eyes just did.”

  He frowned and looked angry. “I’m still not going to confirm anything. And honestly, I’m not sure how much it helps you to know.”

  She didn’t know why he was mad, but she didn’t like being in the dark. “I get that, but it would explain a lot of things I’ve seen this past month.”

  “Like what?” he asked, his monotone voice belying a flicker of interest in his eyes, confirming in her mind that she was right on track.

  She sat down on the sofa and held her hands out to the fire in hopes that he wouldn’t see how interested she was in getting to the bottom of this. “He’s always alone for meals and on the slopes, but then I’ve seen him talking to different men. Usually in out-of-the-way places. Hidden spots where no one but staff might happen upon them. And there’s this one man in particular I’ve seen him with a few times. I almost asked him about it one time.”

  Alex widened his stance, his nose flaring, as he took a deep breath. “I’m glad that you didn’t. There’s no telling what he might have done. We’ve both seen his disrespect for you. I can’t help but think he’d get mad at you for butting into his business and take it out on you.”

  She could see that. Totally see that. She shuddered. Another man who couldn’t be trusted. She shook her head. “How has my life blown up like this? My brother-in-law’s a killer. Someone shot a man next to me and the bullet could’ve been meant for me. And this gun runner has to choose me of all the waitstaff to get familiar with. Why?”

  He leaned against the mantel. “I can’t honestly explain the first ones, but the last is obvious. You’re a beautiful woman, Whitney. What man wouldn’t hit on you?”

  “You haven’t.”

  “Not because I don’t want to.”

  Wow. Oh. Wow.

  “So what’s stopping you?” she asked boldly, as she had to know.

  “First, I don’t even know if you’re in a relationship, and I wouldn’t want to step on another man’s toes.”

  “Not dating anyone at all.”

  “Then, second.” He ran a hand through his hair, those long fingers searching out and righting strands. “I’m not relationship material. Totally not. Maybe if it was just you I would’ve pursued my interest, but you have the kids now. You have to think about any man you might date as a potential father for them. I am so far from that possibility that I wouldn’t want to lead you on and make you think it could ever happen.”

  Crazy. She had no idea he’d thought this all through. Meant he was feeling things between them as deeply as she was, but he’d closed the door. Tightly. Firmly. A good thing. So why did she unexpectedly want to delve deeper and try to open it?

&
nbsp; She couldn’t. Not a good idea at all. Better to make light of things and get them back to business.

  “So you’ve got us married already, huh?” She chuckled.

  “No, it’s not…I mean…I don’t know.” He dropped onto the far end of the plush sofa. “I just want to be truthful. I like you. I am attracted to you, and yet, I will do my very best to avoid those feelings.”

  “It’s for the best anyway.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “For starters, I’m in this big mess, but then beyond that, when Percy is behind bars and I can resume life again, I have so much to figure out. Being a mom is a new and all-consuming thing for me. Adding a man to the picture wouldn’t be a good idea until I get things resolved.”

  “That makes perfect sense. Give it some time before dating.” He sounded sure and disappointed at the same time.

  “Even then, I doubt I will want to,” she rushed on so he didn’t get the wrong impression that she might be interested in something down the road. “Not after seeing what Percy did to Vanessa.”

  His eyes widened. “You don’t want to live the rest of your life like that, do you? Judging all men by what Percy did?”

  “Want to? No. Will.”

  “But…” He shrugged.

  “I get that odds would say I won’t meet another murderer in my life, but the murder really isn’t the issue. Don’t get me wrong, his actions stole my precious sister from me, but his deception for years is what makes me hesitant to trust again.” She yanked her hair back into a severe twist. “How can I trust anyone after seeing that? Eleven years of marriage where she was happy. Had what looked like an ideal life, and all that time he was like a snake in the grass slithering through their life, living his lies.” She let go and shook her hair out.

  Alex gazed at her with his piercing eyes. “Again, you can’t judge others by his actions. I would never do something like that and neither would the men I know.”

  “I want to believe you.” She met his gaze and clung to it, hoping to find reassurance there, but even if she found it, how could she trust it? She clenched her hands together. “But I just can’t.”

  He watched her with those deep, contemplative eyes, and her desire to believe in him was stronger than ever. But the fear of betrayal was already buried deep in her psyche, and she couldn’t eliminate it with a simple look.

  “Since you prayed at dinner the other night, I assume you’re a woman of faith?”

  She nodded.

  “Could you turn to God with this?”

  “I have, but I’m not making any headway. In fact, my faith is suffering because this sits there like a huge wall in the way of everything else.”

  “A roadblock,” he muttered.

  “Yes. Exactly.”

  “It’s like an avalanche closed things off.”

  “Right. The avalanche. It’s a perfect analogy.” She nodded hard. “I mean…I haven’t completely lost faith in people. If I had, I wouldn’t have hired your team, but still, I keep worrying that…that it means I didn’t learn anything from Percy. That I trusted you all too easily. Sure, I checked your team out online, but anyone can put up a website filled with lies. And I trusted Yuki and Tomio, too. Why? A need arises, and I give in. What’s not to say a need will arise in the future to have a man in my life, and I give into that need, even if the guy’s not ethical or is hiding something? I just can’t risk it. Easier not to get involved in the first place.”

  He nodded sadly.

  She hated seeing how she was hurting him. “It’s nothing personal, Alex.”

  “No, I know. I got it.” He shook his head. “How did we get off on this tangent anyway?”

  “McCray being attracted to me.”

  “Maybe it’s best to go back to that.”

  “Agreed,” she said firmly, though she didn’t want to do that. Their discussion had been good. Helped her see some things. Maybe see more about him. Not such a good thing, because, of course, he passed the test with flying colors.

  The investigation. Stick with that. “So if Percy didn’t shoot at me, but John Doe was the target, do you think he was working with McCray?”

  “Again, I’m not confirming—”

  “That McCray is the gun runner.” She laughed.

  A reluctant smile crept across his mouth but disappeared when the door lock clicked like a keycard had been slid through it. In one smooth move, his hand went to his gun, and he reached the door with lightning speed.

  Sam stepped into the room carrying her coat and wearing a huge smile.

  Both Alex and Whitney exhaled at the same time.

  “What?” Sam looked around.

  “You scared us,” Alex said, dropping his hand. Keeping his focus on Sam he said, “I think the murder could very well be related to the gun running.”

  Sam joined them. “And I just might have the lead that could answer that question.”

  “How’s that?” Alex asked.

  She held up an evidence bag and jiggled it. “John Doe’s cell phone.”

  15

  Excitement burned in Alex over Sam’s discovery, but he quickly tamped it down. The phone had been buried in the snow for days, getting wet, and they might not be able to even turn it on.

  On the other hand, it could be the break they’d been needing. “Where did you find it?”

  Sam’s excited smile evaporated. “On the porch in the area I tarped. I figure John Doe was holding it and it flew out of his hand when he fell.”

  “Are you positive it’s his?” Whitney asked, her expectant gaze one that tightened Alex’s gut, as he didn’t want her to be disappointed.

  Sam frowned. “Not yet, but by now we’ve interviewed nearly everyone here, and no one mentioned losing their phone. I would think that would’ve come up. And I asked Tomio about it. No one reported a missing phone.”

  “Then it’s likely his, so what are you waiting for?” Alex asked. “Let’s look at it.”

  Sam shook her head and took the phone from the bag. “It’s been in snow for days and is powered down. I don’t know if that’s due to phone failure or the battery being drained. But before I can assess it, I need to dry it out.”

  Whitney narrowed her eyes. “How wet could it get when the snow is frozen?”

  Sam took it out of the bag. “It doesn’t take much moisture to fry electronics. I took precautions and dried it with a towel before bringing it inside and the snow melted on it. But I guarantee I didn’t get all the moisture. Powering it up can cause any water inside the device to activate a shortage and render it useless. Even warming it could cause a condensation issue.”

  Whitney frowned. “Then what do you do?”

  “I have no option but to let it gradually dry out. The heat in the room should do the trick. I can also open it to speed things up, but I need to talk to Nate about that before I do.”

  “Why’s that?” Alex asked, as he couldn’t think of a single reason the sheriff needed to be involved in this.

  “It’s evidence in a murder investigation. I’d be altering the state I found the device in, and it will affect the evidentiary value of the information it contains.”

  “I’m going to pretend I understood that.” Whitney smiled.

  “Think of it this way.” Sam said. “After we turn this phone on, the moment it starts running, it modifies files that might need to be changed to boot up. These changes are timestamped. So just by turning it on, it’s no longer in the same state as when I found it. If a jury is going to believe the information we might gather from it, they have to know that we didn’t change anything, or the data can’t be used as evidence.”

  “That makes sense,” Whitney said. “But how do you do it because you have to turn it on, right?’

  “Right. We make a copy of the drive, which I can still do once it’s dry without opening it. Someone could call into question that once I opened it, breaking the factory seal, that I altered the hardware, too. Does that make it clearer?”

  Whiney
nodded. “I’m impressed. You have to know so much to do your job. Blood, fingerprints, electronics, and much more, I’m sure.”

  “I’ve already figured out she’s one of the best, and she keeps proving it,” Alex said, as he was proud of his new teammate. All of his teammates actually.

  “That’s enough of the gushing.” Sam swatted a hand at Alex. “There’s one other thing you need to know about this phone model. It has a feature that if John Doe has the fingerprint reader active and the phone isn’t opened using a print within forty-eight hours, it will require his numeric passcode to gain access. There’s no way we can figure that passcode out here. So the clock is ticking while we can still use his finger to open the phone.”

  “His finger?” Whitney cringed. “That means you have to use his…you’ll need to…”

  “Press his finger on the device, yes,” Sam said. “And time’s of the essence. So let me get this nearer to an air vent to start the drying process, and then I’ll call Nate.”

  She dragged an end table close to a heat vent to set the phone down, then dug out her phone and dialed.

  Alex sat down next to Whitney and offered a quick prayer that they were not only able to turn on this phone, but that it would contain information that would allow them to find the killer.

  Whitney swiveled to face him. “You all really are something else. I’m so thankful you came to my rescue with McCray, or I wouldn’t have thought to ask for your help.”

  “You weren’t happy with me at the time.” Alex grinned and got the responding blush he hoped to elicit.

  “I was most ungracious.” She grimaced. “I apologize.”

  “Hey.” He waved it off. “I blew it, too. I was…um…kind of captivated by you and let it get to me. I should’ve been more professional. I really botched things.”

  He couldn’t believe he’d admitted that to her, and if he thought she blushed before, she was downright crimson now.

  “Perfect,” he heard Sam say. “Yeah. I’ll let you know what I find.”