Nicole studied him. Peace radiated from his eyes. “You mean that,” she said. “A lot of people say those things, but it’s a nice-sounding front for anger and unresolved grief.” She laid her fork across her plate. “I know, because I’m still dealing with a lot of negative emotions. Not that I doubt where my loved ones are, but why did they go so soon? My dad never got to see me in my high school cap and gown, much less college. And he wasn’t there to walk me down the aisle when I married a rookie cop straight out of the academy.” Her hands fisted around the napkin in her lap. “Now Glen’s gone, too.”
She bit her lip and halted a further rush of words. And I don’t have his baby in my arms to leave me a piece of him. Why was that made impossible, too?
Rich shook his head. “Doesn’t make sense, does it?” His tone soothed.
Nicole let out a pent-up breath on a small laugh. “Here we are, supposed to be enjoying a relaxing evening, and I’m whining.”
“That’s all right. I’m honored you’d talk about these subjects with me.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Thanks for not lecturing me to stop questioning and just have faith that God knows best.”
Rich popped another bite of steak into his mouth and chewed slowly. “I’ve never known faith and questions to be mutually exclusive. When we stop asking questions, we stop growing spiritually—or any other way.”
A weight lifted from Nicole’s chest. “Thanks. That’s the most comforting thing anyone has said to me in a long time.”
“My pleasure.” He smiled. “Now, how about dessert after we finish this fine meal? My treat.”
Supper ended on a positive note, with conversation returning to light topics. Then Rich insisted on walking Nicole to her door.
She laughed as they entered the elevator. “Your gallantry is getting away from you again.”
He shrugged. “Not my gallantry so much as my cop-ness. I’d be protective of any beautiful woman wandering around an unfamiliar place at night in a big city.”
Nicole sucked in a breath. He’d called her beautiful.
They arrived at Nicole’s door. She looked up into Rich’s eyes. Her light farewell words died on her tongue. His gaze was anything but detached. Her eyes widened. Would he try to kiss her? How would she react? Her heart did a little stutter-step.
Rich lifted his hand and brushed Nicole’s cheek with his fingertips. Her eyelids drifted shut as if attached to his fingers by puppet strings. Warmth radiated across her skin. He was going to kiss her, and she was going to let him.
Breathless moments passed. Nothing happened.
Nicole opened her eyes. Rich’s broad back was retreating up the hallway. A deep breath expanded her lungs. He hadn’t kissed her. What a letdown, thank goodness! She wasn’t herself right now. Her emotions were all over the place.
Assuring herself that she was indeed relieved over the missed kiss, she let herself into her room. Many guys would have taken advantage of a vulnerable female and stolen that kiss. Terry Bender’s face darted past her mind’s eye. Case in point. Just as well Rich was wise enough to keep his distance. He was the kind of man who played for keeps in the heart department, but nothing more than friendship could happen between them.
Nicole slipped into her pajamas and crawled between the sheets. Her weary body ached, and the wide mattress and soft pillows invited her to let tension fade into them. But her mind kept churning over thoughts about her grandmother, the baby’s remains, Hannah and her disturbing Elling relatives, and then back to Rich.
And Glen.
She and Glen had wanted children in the worst way, but mere days before he was killed they got the news. Glen wasn’t able to father a child. Nicole was willing to talk adoption. It didn’t matter to her whether the baby was of their blood. He or she would become theirs through love. Glen wasn’t ready for that option. Nicole figured if she gave him some space he’d work his way out of the funk and open his heart to a child who needed a family.
He never got the chance. Had his distraction about fatherhood contributed to him getting into the line of fire during the robbery?
Nicole rolled onto her side and punched her pillow. She’d never know. Tears wet the pillowcase, as they had too many nights to count. She still missed Glen far too much to consider another relationship, even if the sight of Rich did crazy things to her pulse.
Not only was Rich a cop, but he’d already raised his family. He had a grown daughter! It wouldn’t be fair of Nicole to expect him to change his job and start over in the baby department. If and when she was ready for romance, Rich wasn’t a candidate.
Back in uniform the next morning, Rich adjusted his gun belt around his hips then strode out the hotel room door. He wasn’t as rested as he’d like to be, but then, current events hadn’t exactly been conducive to a good night’s sleep. If he was honest with himself, though, it wasn’t the rose garden baby case that had disturbed his slumber, but a pair of wounded brown eyes.
Nicole was a long way from done grieving her husband. What had he expected? She’d take one look at him and realize she was ready to love again? Maybe he should reconsider his interest in her. She had a thing against cops as husband material. And there was something else bugging her, too. Something that was still too painful to talk about. What could be more devastating than the death of a loved one?
Rich arrived at Nicole’s hotel room door and knocked.
“Who is it?” Her voice carried through the portal.
He identified himself. “Are you ready for me to take you back to the hospital before I go over to the forensics office?”
Silence answered for several heartbeats. “Not quite. You go on. I’ll take a cab over.”
Rich frowned. Was she really not ready, or had his affectionate touch on her cheek scared her away? He should have denied the impulse, but his fingers had seemed to possess a mind of their own. She hadn’t pulled away. If anything, she’d looked ready for the next step. A kiss maybe? If this sudden avoidance was the aftermath of allowing a moment of contact, then it was a very good thing he hadn’t pushed for more. Maybe he’d better not push her now, either—prove he wasn’t a threat to the emotional space she needed.
“All right.” The words left his lips reluctantly. “I’ll stop by the hospital and check on you and your grandmother later today.”
“Sounds good.” The tone carried a wave of relief. Because he was leaving or because he was going to stop in at the hospital when he finished at the MBCA?
On the drive to the bureau headquarters in St. Paul, Rich got on the radio and checked in at the office. The dispatcher reported that a two-one-one had been called in early this morning. Rich groaned. Another robbery. The thefts seemed small potatoes compared to the assault on Jan Keller and the possibility that Nicole had uncovered the remains of Samuel Elling. But the persistent thefts of property were giving his department a black eye in the community.
“Hey, Chief.” Terry got on the horn. “Let me call you on your cell.”
Rich agreed. Must be something his deputy didn’t want to discuss on the radio for the delectation of anyone with a police scanner. A few seconds later his cell played.
“Got an update on forensics from the Keller crime scenes,” Terry said.
“Spill.”
“The forensics tech headed back to his lab this morning with all the evidence from both the burial site and the attic. He says there are plenty of good fingerprints on the bat and the plastic bag that was used as a shroud. He won’t have any idea who they belong to, though, until he gets a chance to analyze them with the proper equipment.”
Rich huffed. “I expect some of the prints on the bat to come back to Jan and probably to her son, Nicole’s father. The bat was his as a boy.”
“Yeah, well, both those sets of prints will be in the system for elimination—Nicole’s dad’s because he was a cop, and Jan’s because we just took ’em. Nicole’s, too.”
“Nicole’s? You mean on the plastic bag.”
“Or
the bat. She called in the assault. Maybe Nicole and granny had an argument—something about that dead baby and—”
“Are you serious?” Rich’s roar echoed in his own ears.
Terry’s gotcha chuckle carried over the airwaves. “Not really. The motive for that extreme reaction is pretty flimsy. Unless there’s something about this case we don’t know.”
“There are lots of blanks to fill in yet.” Rich’s words came out clipped, as he stuffed his eruption of anger down into his belly, where it smoldered and fumed like a banked volcano.
Why did he still let himself get blindsided by Terry’s petty little jokes at his expense? Maybe because he was too infatuated with Nicole to think straight. That wasn’t good. Not good at all as long as this case was on his docket.
“What’s the scoop on this two-one-one last night?” Rich growled at his deputy.
“Dugan’s Implement lost a half-dozen lawn mowers and several skid loaders out of their storage shed in the back. The staff came in this morning to roll them out for display, but the padlock was cut and the shed had been cleaned out slick as a whistle.”
“I thought Dugan’s had an alarm system.”
“On their showroom, yes, but the shed was for overstock and not wired.”
Rich gusted a breath. “So it continues to look like we’re dealing with clever amateurs. Smart enough to fly under the radar by not messing with alarms.”
“Pickin’s have been pretty good without tangling with alarms.”
Too good. Rich’s fume morphed into a boil. Those penny-ante crooks might think they were playing smart, but they’d mess up and get caught…eventually.
“Any leads?” he asked his deputy. “Tire tracks? Passersby notice unusual activity?”
“Nobody’s come forward to say they saw anything suspicious last night, but we might have a partial tire tread from a trailer in the packed dirt near the shed. Of course, the tread could be from an innocent customer, too. Traffic is pretty regular in the lot.”
Rich grunted. “Keep me updated on anything new. I’ll be home by evening.”
“Will do, Chief.”
Rich tucked his phone away, scowling. His deputy was way too chipper for all the trash the department had on its plate. Probably because the guy was counting on inheriting Rich’s badge after his boss got canned for incompetence. Rich squared his shoulders. Not going to happen. He’d better get a muzzle on these negative thoughts if he expected to nab the midnight larcenists, not to mention solve a half-century-old kidnapping and murder case.
Midafternoon, Rich left the headquarters of the MBCA with his head full of protocols on handling cold cases. He’d spent longer than he intended with the forensics experts, but it was worth the extra time to visit with the tech handling the evidence. The guy was a potent blend of sharp, level-headed and eager.
Already he’d determined that what had looked like dirt twined in the folds of cloth that wrapped the baby’s remains was actually decayed rose petals. Another indication that whoever buried the child felt some sort of compassion or remorse, and unfortunately for Nicole, pointed even more strongly toward Frank and/or Jan Keller having played a part in the kidnapping—if indeed the remains were those of Samuel Elling. The tech also gave an educated opinion that the child had died and been buried within the time frame that the Elling baby was taken. He’d started the DNA testing for the bones and the hair from the brush Hannah had given Nicole. They’d soon know if Samuel had been discovered under the Kellers’ rose bushes.
Rich returned to the hospital, a part of him a tad too eager to lay eyes on Nicole again. Who knows how long she’d even tolerate his presence if the evidence forced him to slap cuffs on an old woman in a hospital bed. But why should it matter what she thought of him? He needed to forget Nicole. For now. Maybe forever.
Her voice carried to him as he neared Jan Keller’s room, and his heart rate quickened. Was Jan awake? He knocked, and Nicole invited him in.
“Hi.” He grinned at her.
She answered with a wan smile and closed the book on her lap.
His gaze darted to the figure on the bed. No, Jan wasn’t awake. She lay still and pale, head wrapped in gauze and bandages. If not for the slow, steady beep of the heart monitor, it would be hard to tell she was alive.
“I was reading to her.” Nicole lifted the book. “They say folks in a coma can hear what’s going on around them. Did you have a good day?”
“Informative.” And frustrating that there’d been another robbery. But she didn’t need to know about that or the preliminary forensics results. “Would you like a ride back to Ellington?”
“Maybe I should stay here.” Jan’s hand lay outside the covers, and Nicole covered it with her own. “If she does have a shred of awareness, I want her to know that someone who loves her is nearby.”
“Did you bring enough clothing to stay longer?”
Nicole shook her head. “I was in too much of a hurry to think that far ahead.” She sighed. “I guess I’ll go home with you now then turn around and drive my own car back here tomorrow.”
Rich’s heart leaped, but he shoved the rebellious organ back into place. A few more hours spent getting to know Nicole might turn out to be diabolical torture. Chances were that any hope of a relationship was doomed to disappointment.
The drive to Ellington passed too quickly. Nicole was easy to talk to, despite the heavy issues that lay between them. They’d continued their pact of the night before and kept the subjects light. The sun had sunk halfway below the horizon when they glided past the Cenex service station on the edge of town.
“Home, sweet home,” Rich murmured, and Nicole answered with a smile. He didn’t respond in kind. “I’m still not a hundred percent happy with leaving you alone in your grandmother’s house.”
“Worry wort. I’ll be fine. I have a hunch that if Grandma’s attacker was after something he either found it or discovered it wasn’t there.”
“As in, Jan told him she’d already destroyed it?”
Nicole looked away.
He didn’t voice the thought that hung in the air, thick as fog. Maybe once Jan Keller admitted she’d done away with evidence, the last thing that needed to be destroyed for the killer to feel safe was Jan herself.
“Can we stop by the shop quick?” Nicole asked. “I’d like to assure myself that everything’s okay there.”
“Can do.”
Rich turned the SUV down Ellington’s main street. Several century-and-a-half-old false fronts had been preserved among the downtown businesses, but most boasted updated facades of metal siding. The dollar store, the drugstore, the two banks, the hardware store and the newspaper and insurance offices slid past. All closed for the evening. The only restaurant on main street was also closed. Few cars sat on the tarmac and nobody trod the sidewalk. On the corner of the third block a cheerful wooden sign announced Jan’s Sewing Room above a picture window displaying merchandise. Jan Keller’s was among the buildings that possessed its original stone facade. Rich parallel parked his unit across the street, and he and Nicole got out.
Wind gusted at them and a candy wrapper skittered across the pavement in front of Rich’s feet as they stepped toward the store. Nicole dug keys out of her purse. A slightly acrid smell teased Rich’s nostrils as she stuck her key into the lock. Then a flicker caught his eye through the picture window.
“Don’t!” he cried.
Too late.
Nicole pulled the portal wide, admitting a rush of wind to the building. A bass whoom! greeted the fresh air. Rich dived at Nicole and bore her to the sidewalk at the base of the stone front just as the picture window exploded above them and heat roared out.
EIGHT
Nicole stood huddled inside the emergency blanket draped across her shoulders as she watched red-gold flames consume her family’s livelihood. Ellington Community Volunteer Firefighters darted here and there, spouting streams of water on the blaze and soaking neighboring buildings to prevent them from catching fir
e. Men’s shouts rang in the deepening dusk. The crackle of flames and the wash of heat answered them. Nicole shivered despite the blanket and the balmy summer evening.
A few feet away, Rich sat on the end gate of an ambulance. His bloody and tattered uniform shirt had been discarded while EMTs tended to an assortment of glass cuts and small scorches on his broad back—injuries he had spared Nicole by covering her with himself. Naturally, he refused to leave the scene in favor of the hospital, even though he probably should have stitches.
“Thank you for saving my life,” Nicole said for about the fourth or fifth time, but she couldn’t stop reliving that horrible moment when Rich shoved her to the cement and spread himself atop her as fire boiled out at them. If not for taking instant cover behind the brick facade below the window, they would both be dead, rather than nursing minor cuts, scrapes and bruises. After the initial explosion, the fire had receded enough for the two of them to scuttle away and call for help.
Nicole rubbed an abrasion on her elbow. The raw flesh stung, but nothing like the fierce pain of witnessing the shop reduced to embers. Her gaze riveted on the blaze that was finally admitting defeat and dying before the determined efforts of the fire fighters. How had this happened?
“We’ll find out.”
Rich’s stark statement drew Nicole’s attention back to him. Had she spoken her question out loud, or was he reading her mind? Probably the latter. He was good at picking up on people’s thoughts.
Rising, he gingerly shrugged into the shirt from their evening out in the Twin Cities. Shadows and light played over his grim features as evening darkness battled the reflection of ebbing flames. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this. I promise.”
Nicole nodded, throat too full to speak.
“Let me take you home now. I—”
“Chief!” The young officer, Derek Hanson, motioned to his boss.
Rich stepped away. Nicole trailed him, but she doubted he noticed. His attention was fixed on a man holding a leash attached to a small dog. The man stood shifting from foot to foot next to the deputy.
Jill Elizabeth Nelson Page 8
