by Aimée Thurlo
Reaching into her backpack, Drew pulled out her small laptop. Happy to be able to get back to at least one familiar routine, she logged on.
She soon came across one e-mail with the subject “an admirer.” As she looked farther down the list, she saw that there were a total of six from the same person. Her instinct for trouble suddenly went into warp drive.
Her heart hammering a mile a minute, she took a shaky breath. “Nick, if you’re not busy…”
He read her tone correctly, and came over right away.
She pointed to the screen. “I don’t usually get e-mails with that header.”
As she opened the first one and read the message, she gasped. There was only one sentence of text and it read:
Stop seeing the cop or you’re both dead.
The rest of the e-mails detailed the many ways the sender was planning to exact his revenge because she hadn’t listened to his warning.
Shaking, she leaned back and swallowed hard.
“Open his last e-mail.” He glanced down at her, then added gently, “Or would you prefer I do it?”
Although there was nothing she would have liked more than to let someone else handle this, she knew she had to find the courage to face her enemy. If she didn’t, she’d lose something she might never again regain—her self-respect.
“I’ve got it.” Bracing herself, she clicked the mail open. Photos of her and Nick taken recently appeared on her screen. One showed Nick and her leaving the station, and another showed them getting out of his Jeep at her apartment building. But it was the last photo that made her heart freeze. Nick was lying prone, his severed head beside a bloodied knife.
Chapter Eleven
Drew stared wide-eyed at the photo. The caption read, “I warned you.”
“Don’t let him get to you.” Nick placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him.
“He’s crazy,” she whispered, trying hard not to tremble and losing the battle.
“He’s messing with your mind,” he said, his arm steady.
“Look at that last photo, Nick. I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you,” she said, sitting upright.
“He’s sending pictures like that because he doesn’t have what it takes to face me man-to-man. He’s a coward.”
She swallowed hard and tried to push her fears back so she could think clearly. “There are ways to track stuff like this.”
“I’ll forward these e-mails to Koval. He can pull the resources necessary to do that.”
Nick reached Koval quickly and told him what they’d discovered in Drew’s e-mails. “This guy’s not just some caffeine-hyped computer geek with a personality disorder. His training and the way he executes a hit aren’t talents you can download, like instructions for making a pipe bomb.”
After he hung up, Nick glanced at Drew.
“Out of all the people you know, who do you think has the computer savvy to be able to fool around with photos like this? Someone who might also be skilled with firearms. Is it possible that you picked up your stalker on the Internet?”
“Except for the e-mails you just saw, I’ve never been harassed online, and that’s what those guys do, at least to start with.”
“Have you been able to think of anything else that might have turned you into a target?”
She stared aimlessly across the room, lost in thought. “If I’d already started working in the records department at the station, I’d worry that what’s happening to me is somehow linked to that—someone who wanted something lost, erased or altered. But let’s face it, if my future job at the department had anything to do with this, Beth would be the current target, and nobody’s been bothering her.”
Restless, she walked to the window. “So what should we do now?”
“As I said, I don’t think Koval would sell anyone out, but his go-by-the-book style could be used against him. Tomorrow, I want to tail him for a while. Let’s see if anyone’s keeping tabs on him.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“It’s getting late now,” Nick said. “You’re welcome to use my room to get some sleep. I’ll nap out here on the sofa tonight.”
She glanced down the hall, then shook her head. “I don’t want to be alone right now. Let me just curl up on that big easy chair. I’ll sleep there.”
Nick brought a blanket from the hall closet and handed it to her. “It’s heavy because it’s pure wool, and it’s very warm. If you’re ready to go to sleep, I can dim the lights.”
She shook her head again. “Don’t bother. I couldn’t fall asleep right now if I tried. I’ll just wrap up in the blanket.”
“Let me go chop some wood. The temperature has a tendency to drop fast around here, as the night wears on,” he said. “I’ll be out back. If you need me, call.”
After hearing the door slam shut, Drew went to the window that faced the rear of the house. With the lights off, she stood to one side and watched Nick work by the glow of an old lantern. It was cold outside, but he took off his shirt jacket and, tugging up the sleeves of the dark T-shirt he wore beneath, began to work. Crusher stayed well behind him, watching and keeping Nick company.
Nick worked with rhythm and precision as he split the logs into firewood. With each powerful stroke, Drew could see his muscles flexing and stretching beneath his tight T-shirt.
Nick was as much a part of nature as the strong, stately pines that lined the limits of the lantern’s glow. Everything about Nick spoke of power kept in check, and beneath that cool, controlled exterior beat the heart of a warrior who welcomed all challenges and thrived under the constant pressure they brought.
She sighed. He was far from the ideal man she’d pictured for herself. So why did she want to bury herself in his arms and welcome the fires he’d bring?
Seeing Nick pick up an armload of wood to carry inside, she quickly moved back to the living room.
“At least you didn’t turn on the kitchen light,” he said, coming in.
“Excuse me?”
“You were watching me work,” he answered.
“How could you have possibly known that? I stood to the side, like you wanted—” She bit off the sentence, but by then it was too late. Seeing his grin, she exhaled softly. “You didn’t know, not until I told you.”
Although she stood halfway across the room from him, the scent of pine, juniper and musk clung to him and teased her imagination. A raw vitality enhanced everything about Nick. He was like an itch in her soul.
Part of what drew her, she was sure, was that Nick was a man of mystery. She knew so little about him. Maybe if she learned more about him, the attraction would start to fade, as it had with so many of the men she’d met since high school.
Once the wood in the big stone fireplace had caught and was burning brightly, he turned off the main light. “We might as well save on the electricity,” he said, sitting on the sheepskin rug by the fire. “Come and join me for a minute or two.”
He made no attempt to touch her as they sat side-by-side, staring at the flames dancing before them and listening to the cracks and occasional snaps of pine pitch.
“You seem a million miles away,” she said, at last.
“I was thinking of how it used to be for Travis and me.”
“Good times or bad?” she asked, softly.
Nick didn’t answer right away. “Looking back now, they were neither pleasant nor unpleasant. They just…were.”
He continued staring at the flames. “I remember nights in the dead of winter, when the heat from our wood stove—actually an old water heater tank we remodeled in our high school shop—was all Travis and I had to keep warm except for blankets,” he said. “We made do, but we had to take turns getting up to add wood. Man, those January nights…”
“I hate being cold,” she said. “I can’t even imagine what you went through.”
He continued gazing at the fire. “We learned all about survival the hard way. There were a lot of nights we went to bed hung
ry back then, but those times taught us what’s really important and what isn’t.”
“And what’s important to you now?” she asked, gently.
“My work as a detective, and restoring the order, the hózho,” he said.
“That’s what Detective Blacksheep’s all about. But what about Nick—the man? What’s important to you? What makes you happy?”
“I’m satisfied with my life. It’s not perfect, but I have everything I need.”
“Needs and wants aren’t the same thing,” she insisted. “Tell me about the things you want.”
His gaze seemed to go right through her. “You don’t want me to answer that.”
She swallowed, then forced a thin smile. “Nice dodge, but you’re sidestepping my real question.”
“You’re better off that way.” Nick stared at the flames.
“That’s not why you’re not answering me,” she said, sensing what he’d left unsaid. “You just don’t want anyone to get too close to the real you—the man behind the badge.”
“Distance helps keep the proper perspective.”
“Is that why you didn’t want to be my bodyguard? Did you think it was too up close and personal?”
“I was working other cases,” he said, then shook his head. “No, that’s not the whole truth.” He said nothing for several long moments. “All you really need to know is that you’ll never have a better ally,” he said, at last.
He’d been honest with her, and what she’d learned about Nick tonight enticed her even more. He was clearly a man whose work defined him. Yet, in his voice she’d also heard a longing for something undefinable, and the broken whispers of a wounded heart.
THEY SET OUT THE NEXT MORNING. Nick drove to the station and parked across the street from the rear entrance he knew Koval always used. Harry didn’t like to use the underground garage. He hated the fumes and said they made his clothes smell. They didn’t have to wait long before Koval pulled up in his sedan, parked in one of the reserved spaces, and went into the building.
“He’s like a well-oiled machine,” Nick said. “He’ll go inside, check his messages, look through his case files, then set out again. Unless Captain Wright pulls him aside, that whole process shouldn’t take him more than about twenty minutes.”
Right on schedule, Koval came back out. As they wound through the early morning traffic, the route began to look familiar.
“Oh, jeez,” she muttered, almost as if she’d read his mind. “I think he’s going to Rich’s place.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right.”
Less than ten minutes later, they watched as Koval parked in front of Beck’s house. Nick parked a distance from there, in a spot that gave him an unobstructed view. “I think Koval came here because he’s been working his way down the list,” Nick said.
Beck stood on the front porch with Koval and they spoke for several minutes. “Koval must have caught him on the way to work,” Nick said.
More words were exchanged, then Koval turned and walked back to his vehicle.
Nick remained where he was, wanting to gauge Beck’s reaction, and he wasn’t disappointed. Beck stormed off to his car and jerked open the door. Still standing there, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.
Surprised, Nick heard his own cell phone ring a moment later and answered the call.
“Blacksheep, someone from your department just paid me a visit. Was that your doing? Koval says I’m a person of interest in this business with Drew Simmons.”
“You were that from the beginning, and it was your own past behavior that got you there,” Nick answered.
“Detective Koval didn’t mention our little meeting yesterday. Did you report it?”
“Report what?” Nick replied, in a monotone.
“Yeah, well, one good turn deserves another. I didn’t give Koval my alibi because he pissed me off, but let’s clear this up right now. I was at the Ute Mountain Casino both times he asked about. The casino cameras should back me up.”
“I’ll pass on the information,” Nick said, but first he ran it by Drew.
“So that’s that. But we’ve now lost Koval,” she said.
“No, we haven’t. I know exactly where he’ll go next. He’s at the Fresh Brew. He always stops for coffee at about this time. I think he’s got a thing for one of the hostesses.”
They arrived less than ten minutes later, and watched Koval come out, newspaper in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.
“He’s as predictable as a clock, and that’s going to get him killed someday,” Nick said.
They followed Koval, but there was nothing even remotely interesting about the detective’s day. Toward the end of it, he phoned Nick and told him to come by his place.
NICK PULLED IN BEHIND Koval’s car, parked in front the narrow old wooden house.
Koval ushered them inside. “You’ve been tailing me today,” Koval said immediately. “Why?”
Drew took a look around. Everything inside the small, tastefully decorated old cottage was orderly and clean.
“I chose to be proactive,” Nick responded. “Think about what’s been happening: our location has been compromised, not once, but twice. Either I’ve been tailed by someone who’s darned near invisible, or there’s a leak in the department.”
“And you thought I might be ratting you out?” Koval demanded.
Drew pushed her way between the two men. “Detective Koval, Nick was only checking to see if you’d picked up a tail you hadn’t spotted yet. But all this driving around has given me an idea. Beth Michaels, the person I’m replacing, could have inadvertently opened a backdoor to the police computer network. Worried about her husband, she sometimes checks her personal accounts while she’s at work. That may have made it possible for a hacker to break into the system and get into an individual officer’s files. Other officers also log in from outside the station, too, and not just patrolmen running a DMV check. That could have also opened the door to an exceptional hacker.”
“And from the e-mails you forwarded to me, we know we’re dealing with a class-A computer geek,” Koval said, with a nod. “I’ll have that checked out. But don’t play games with me, Blacksheep. If you have a plan, let me in on it.”
“Works for me,” Nick said, and gesturing to Drew, headed back out the door.
“Disaster averted,” she whispered under her breath, as they stepped back outside.
“Averted?” Nick shook his head. “No. Just postponed.”
Chapter Twelve
They rode in silence as they left Koval’s. At long last, Nick pulled over to the side of the road leading into a campground at the edge of town.
“We need to take a closer look at how you got your job with the department.”
“If you think my uncle or Beth helped me beat out the competition, you’re wrong. I had to take a lot of tests and go through the entire application process. By the time we got down to the final interview, there were only two of us left.”
“Who was the other person?”
“A really nice man fresh out of junior college by the name of Tim Collins. I remember him because he was very soft-spoken and had beautiful manners.”
“When you got the job offer, do you know how he took the news?”
“I have no idea. I was at home when I got the call.”
“How much competition was there between you two while you were waiting for those final interviews?”
“Tim wanted the job, but he wasn’t pushy. He always had a smile for everyone and was a class act all the way.”
“It still wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look at Collins, if only to rule him out.” Nick checked the Mobile Dispatch Terminal above the center console of the Jeep. As the name came up, Nick cursed softly. “Here’s something interesting. It turns out that Tim Collins is Ray Owens’s stepson.
“With all the trouble Owens has been having the past few years with arrests and various run-ins with the law, he could have pushed his ne
phew into going after a job in records. That way, he’d have someone who could pass information on to him, or maybe alter a few facts here and there.”
“Maybe. But Owens is already fighting abuse charges, so deleting a few things from the official police record wouldn’t have helped him that much. The evidence in the hospital records would have still stood against him.”
“Maybe Owens is involved in other things that could put him away for good.”
“Like what?”
“That’s what we need to find out.”
“I’m still not sure I follow you. Are you thinking that Owens and Tim came after me so I wouldn’t be able to take the job, and it would go to the next candidate in line?”
“It’s possible Owens was afraid that you’d uncover something about him he didn’t want your family to know about—your uncle in particular. Your uncle and he are business competitors.”
“But what would make Owens think that I’d pass police information on to anyone? Or that my uncle Earl would accept it?”
Nick shrugged. “He may not have been willing to take the chance.”
“I think you’re way off the mark. Yes, my uncle Earl and Ray Owens are in the same business, but they’re not in the same league. My uncle is barely getting by, running a shoestring construction company. Ray has one of the biggest construction firms in the state.”
“It’s still worth looking into,” Nick said.
“Owens has a lot of power, so we have to be careful. Otherwise we’ll end up helping him by strengthening his claim that he’s a victim of police harassment.”
Nick weighed his options while running a report on Ray. “Owens is a heavy drinker who gets pulled over often late at night. The last two times, Ray was near a club called the Indigo Trail. I’ve never been there myself. What do you say we duck in for a quick lunch and take a look around?”
“And if we see him…?”
“It’ll be an excellent chance for us to hang back and see who his drinking buddies are.”
