And then there was nothing but the moment and the magic of being together.
WHEN BEN OPENED his eyes, it took him a moment to realize where he was, what had happened to him, whom he was with. But when it came back to him, it came back with a wash of emotion.
Kate was curled up next to him in his bed, a strand of her red hair splashed across his shoulder. He stayed quiet, barely breathing, feeling her close and reveling in the feeling.
He shifted slightly, and she eased away from his body for a moment. He felt alone and empty, and then she murmured and rolled back closer, cuddling against him. That was more like it. He smiled and ran his hand along the softness of her back.
What a time they’d had.
Both of them, high on adrenaline from the chase at the spa, had used their energy in a way that had resulted in a night he’d never forget. First their lovemaking on the stairs, which had been spontaneous and highly passionate. Later they’d showered together and made a meal of sorts before stumbling to bed. He’d expected that they would fall asleep then, but to his amazement, he found that he wanted her again…and that she was just as eager for him.
He opened his eyes and twisted a strand of her bright hair in his fingers, whispering, “You’re quite a woman, Kate McNair. You’re getting under my skin…which isn’t what I had in mind. But…”
He thought about getting out of bed and going downstairs to make coffee, but Kate was still nestled tightly against him, and the bed was still warm and inviting. There would be a tough day ahead of them. Why rush it?
Chapter Twelve
“What a great night that was,” Ben said, squeezing Kate’s hand as they walked along a winding path in the woods behind his house.
“It was a pretty wonderful morning, too,” she responded and then felt her cheeks redden.
He looked down at her with a grin. “Is that a blush I see?”
“No,” she denied.
“Well, you sure weren’t blushing last night—or this morning,” he added.
She remembered vividly their wonderful lovemaking, and then she really did blush.
His eyes held her, and his smile caused her to smile in return. “Were you?” he prodded.
“It was dark!”
He laughed and gave her a hug. “We’ll have to remember to turn on the lights.”
She nodded without reply as they walked on. He hadn’t said “tonight” or even “next time.” She listened to the silence of the outdoors, broken only by the sound of their feet crunching on the icy edges of the snow. She had no idea whether there’d be a tonight or a next time.
He helped her up a rise where they sat on a huge rock with indentations that perfectly accommodated their bodies.
“I carved this for us,” he said.
“Sure you did.” She settled comfortably onto the rock and heaved a sigh. Before them rose the jagged snow-covered peaks of the Continental Divide, etched against the wide blue sky.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked.
“It’s overpowering,” she said, barely able to take in the whole panorama without turning her head, first to the left and then the right. There was so much sky, she thought. “I guess this is what they mean by ‘big sky country.’”
“Yup,” he said with a Western twang. “This is it, ma’am.”
“It’s fabulous.”
Ben put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a hug. “Not as fabulous as being curled up in bed with you.”
She didn’t blush this time but looked him directly in the eye. “No, not as good…”
“But?” he nudged.
“But we have work to do, and we couldn’t have done it in bed.”
“We could have tried.”
“Ben—”
“All right. We needed a walk in the crisp mountain air to clear our heads and subdue our hormones.” He kissed her behind her ear. “Temporarily.”
She leaned back beside him, letting the sun warm her skin and seep through into the depths of her body. “The sun on my skin…” she said, tilting her face upward and closing her eyes, “feels so good.”
“That’s what’s so surprising about Colorado weather. We get these warm days in the middle of winter, but then we get a foot of snow,” he added.
“That won’t happen in Mexico at Christmastime,” she said, feeling a momentary pang of jealousy. “The weather should be perfect down there.”
“Umm,” he replied idly, letting his fingers play in her hair. “No surprises south of the border. It’s a different world. But the sun will be shining in Florida, too,” he reminded her—and himself—thinking of what was ahead for both of them.
Instead of anticipation at his upcoming vacation, he felt a sudden wave of sadness. He shook it away, determined to keep his priorities straight. First, solve Kate’s problems; then, take off for Mexico.
“But before either of us goes anywhere,” he said, “let’s figure out what’s happening at the spa.”
“Face some facts, you mean. Like the fact that Coral was running a call girl ring…”
“That’s looking more and more likely.”
“And someone found out and decided to make trouble.”
He nodded.
“And she called me to find a replacement,” she continued, ticking off the facts as she saw them, “and-he killed her.”
“By ‘he’ do you mean Mark Kersten?”
“Who else?”
Ben shrugged, looking up into the clear blue sky. Above them a hawk made giant, lazy circles over the pines. For a moment, he thought about his grandfather, the times they’d spent together in the forest, and wondered if the old man could have put all these clues together any better than he.
“So, why wouldn’t Mark turn her over to the police instead of killing her?” he asked.
“Because he wanted in on the deal?” she suggested.
“Sounds reasonable. But we can’t take that to the police.”
“Unless he killed her,” Kate suggested.
Overhead, the hawk continued to circle. “There’s no evidence, Kate,” he reminded her. “No body.”
She shrugged her shoulders in a frustrated gesture. “I know, and everyone at the spa seems to believe she’s on a cruise.”
The sun reflected on the rocks and on the bright snow, sending shards of light upward toward the soaring hawk. It was a beautiful scene, Kate thought as she leaned against Ben, feeling the warmth of his body merge with the sun’s heat. But the beauty around her couldn’t blot out the jumble in her mind or the half-formed ideas and images. Coral as she’d last seen her. Mark’s anger. Jennifer’s cold eyes.
“One of the people at the spa knows where Coral is.” She spoke the thought aloud.
“And that person thinks you know something or saw something that puts your life in danger.”
That thought still frightened her, in spite of the comfort of Ben’s arm around her and the security of his nearness. “I didn’t see anything that night but the janitor—”
“And he saw you.”
“Definitely.”
“Were you wearing your red coat?”
She nodded.
“Without a hat—your red hair hanging down for him to see?”
“Yes, but I don’t think the janitor is a likely suspect.”
“Unless he wasn’t a janitor. Think about it, Kate. You pretended to be a blonde. I pretended to be a pool guy. Couldn’t someone just as easily pretend to be a janitor pushing a cart that’s big enough for—”
Kate grasped his arm with a moan. “Big enough for a body!”
“That could explain a lot. A missing body. Someone on your trail. What else can you remember about the guy?” he prodded.
She closed her eyes and tried to dredge up the memory. “A little above medium height, between fiveten and six foot, I’d say.”
“Mark’s height?”
She nodded. “But Jennifer’s, too. And Dylan’s,” she added.
“Anything about the clothes?”
“Nope. Dark. Nondescript,” she replied.
“You couldn’t see the face?”
She shook her head.
“Hair. Didn’t you say Mark was bald?”
“Yes. And both Jennifer and Dylan have blond hair…”
“Which was it? Think, Kate.”
“I’m thinking so hard it’s giving me a headache,” she shot back. Eyes still closed, she worked on the memory. “Wait! I didn’t see any hair—because the janitor had on a hat, no, a cap, a knit cap.”
“That could have hidden long hair….”
“Or a bald head,” she added, sinking back against him. “Masquerading as a janitor is a perfect disguise. Just think about it. The janitor could have been Dylan or Mark or even Jennifer. Taking Coral’s body from the building in that cart and hurrying off when I asked about the spa hours. We need to find out who it was.”
“First of all,” he admonished her, “the body in the cart is just another theory, and if you remember, our detecting is definitely nonprofessional. I was totally wrong about Hedrick and Mandy—”
“And I was off base about Brownley.”
“But you scored on the call girl ring.”
“After Edie at the spa put the idea into my head, and then I was sure Mark was running it—but maybe I’m finally right this time. Practice makes perfect.” She got up and began to pace in the crunchy snow.
“The janitor practically ran from me. I should have realized at the time how weird that was. Why would he run unless he had something to hide? If there was just some way to confront the staff at the spa….”
“Kate, I doubt if any of them is going to confess.”
“Not willingly, but if there was a way to—”
“No more breaking and entering,” he cautioned, letting her pace, but bracing himself against whatever scheme was brewing.
“I have a great idea,” she said, her eyes bright with excitement, “one that’s safe and simple.”
“No, Kate.”
“Listen, Ben. It’s as simple as—” she looked down at the footprints she’d left in the snow “—as tracking with your grandfather when you were a kid.”
Ben laughed. “The animals we tracked didn’t have guns.”
“But they were dangerous unless you knew how to outsmart them.” She stopped in front of him, blocking the sun. “We can outsmart Coral’s murderer by drawing him out, tricking him into meeting me.”
“I’m not using you as bait. We tried that with Brownley.”
“And it worked,” she reminded him.
“Because he was a frightened man, not a murderer.”
“Aha!” she said. “So you admit one of them is a murderer.”
“I’m not admitting anything, Kate.” He couldn’t help laughing. “And we’re not opposing lawyers arguing in court.”
“No,” she agreed. “We’re detectives working on the same team.” She leaned over, put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. “And this time, we could be on the right trail for a change.”
“MARK KERSTEN, please.” Kate gestured for Ben to pick up the other phone. “He’s coming,” she mouthed.
“Kersten here.”
Kate tried to speak slowly and calmly, but her first words were rushed. “This is Kate McNair. I need to meet with you.”
There was a pause and then, “Do I know you, Ms. McNair?”
“In a way. And I know you…at least, I know something about you—and Coral, and what happened to her.”
His voice was brusque. “Hey, what the hell is this? You sound like some kind of nut. I’m not listening to—”
Quickly, Kate jumped into her prepared speech. “Meet me at five o’clock this afternoon at the Cherry Creek Mall. I’ll be sitting on a bench by the fountain. By the way, I have red hair, and I’ll be wearing a bright red coat. You remember that, don’t you?”
“Lady, I got no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
“You’re a smart man, Mr. Kersten, you can figure it out. When you do, I’m sure you’ll decide to be there.”
She hung up the phone and looked at Ben. “So, what do you think?”
“Either he has nerves of steel or he knows nothing.”
“When I said my name, he hesitated before he answered. That could mean—”
“A lot of things. I don’t think he’ll show, Kate.”
“Well, I do, but just in case, I’m going to call Jennifer.”
“Why bother? He’ll tell her himself—”
“Not if he’s in this alone,” Kate said. She frowned, deep in thought. “Or she could be in it without him. Anyway, I’m calling her. Then Dylan. It’s possible that—” She decided to keep her last bit of speculation to herself.
“Suppose they all show up?”
“They won’t. Only the guilty party will be there,” she said with determination.
“And you. And me, sticking by you like glue.”
“No, Ben. The shooter knows what you look like. And a six-foot-two, hundred-and-seventy-five-pound bodyguard isn’t that easy to camouflage.”
“That’s what you think.”
“A disguise?” she asked with a look of disbelief.
“Wait until you hear my ho-ho-ho’s.”
KATE HAD TROUBLE convincing herself that they were, as Ben had warned her on the way to the mall, on a deadly mission. How could anything be serious, much less dangerous, in the crush of all these Christmas shoppers? Over the sound of recorded carols, babies howled, mothers called to children running off in all directions, wives scolded husbands laden with packages, and Santas pretended to be jovial.
Among them, Ben Blackeagle. With his cheeks rouged to a rosy glow, and his muscular torso wellpadded, he made an impressive-looking Kris Kringle, she had to admit, but he wasn’t playing the merry part of Santa well at all. At nearly five o’clock, she’d taken her place on the bench with Ben hovering nearby, looking grim and not at all Christmassy.
“You’re too close,” she said out of the corner of her mouth. “Move away and do something jolly.”
“Ho-ho-ho,” he responded, unconvincingly. “I’m just as Santa-like as the dozen other bearded men in red suits around here. The place is crawling with them. Must be collecting for some kind of charity.”
She started to answer just as a little boy approached Ben with a determined look. She suppressed a grin and tried to overhear the conversation.
“Are you a real Santa?” the boy asked.
“Of course. That is, I’m a real Santa’s helper. You may have noticed lots of us around.”
Kate smiled to herself at that sensible explanation. She’d always wondered how parents explained all the different sizes and shapes of Santas around the holidays.
“Where’s the real one?” the boy asked.
“At the North Pole, of course, getting ready for Christmas.”
“Then if you’re a Santa’s helper, let me sit on your lap.” His round eyes were hopeful.
“Well, I can’t do that because…” Ben hesitated. “I’m the standing Santa. I bet there’s a sitting Santa around here somewhere.”
The child didn’t seem convinced, but his response was drowned out in the din of Christmas music. From somewhere, a band had materialized, brass instruments blaring.
As Ben tried to detach himself from the persistent child, Kate glanced at her watch. Ten after five, and not a face from the spa anywhere in sight. Ben was probably right. This was a dumb idea. The call seemed to have baffled Jennifer as much as Mark. As for Dylan—he’d assumed Kate was a woman who wanted to meet him for a date!
She decided to give it until five-thirty. That would probably be about all the Santa-ing Ben was up to. Besides, even though Joan had been generous about keeping Amanda, they’d imposed on her long enough.
She turned her head to look toward Ben and the little boy, when she saw a red suit looming beside her. “Ben, how did you—” She looked up and realized this Santa wasn’t her Santa at all. He was shorter, and h
is face was almost obscured by the big white beard.
When he spoke, his voice was low and gravelly. “I have a gun in my pocket, and I won’t hesitate to use it. Stand up now and walk beside me.”
Somehow she found her voice. “You wouldn’t shoot me, not here in front of all these people.”
“The hell I wouldn’t. I’d kill you and probably hit a couple of kids, too. Now move.”
She did as she was told, but not before one frantic look in Ben’s direction. He was leaning over, talking to the little boy, only a few yards away. So near, and yet so far! She felt the gun being jammed into her side and started walking.
Ben, tired of the little boy, had made eye contact with the kid’s mother and given him a little shove in her direction, ignoring the complaints.
“Mom, this Santa won’t let me sit in his lap.”
“Sorry,” Ben said. “Not in my job description.” He turned back toward Kate, only to find that she had walked away through the crowd with another Santa, and she hadn’t looked back. What the hell? He knew she would never leave without him. Unless-Ben began to run, pushing aside everyone in his path, wondering how she’d gotten so far away, so quickly. “Stop that Santa!” he called out. “He’s kidnapping the woman in the red coat.”
People turned to look at him, surprise—even fear-on their faces. As he forced his way through the crowd, he heard the mumbled comments.
“Crazy…”
“Dangerous…”
“Call security…”
But Ben kept on running and kept on yelling.
And Kate heard him. His voice echoed across the mall and into her brain. It filled her, gave her hope-and made her fight. She stopped, digging her heels into the floor of the mall, pulling and pushing, struggling to get free. Then she felt the cold metal of his gun against her skin and stopped her struggle.
He pushed her violently, into a wall, through a door, down a stairway. This was no spontaneous reaction. The man knew what he was doing and where he was going. Kate and Ben had made no such plan. But Ben was a tracker—he wouldn’t let her get away!
Baby In My Arms Page 18
