A Knight Before Christmas

by Alicia Dean

  "Not really. I had breakfast before I came. Maybe we'll

  grab something in a little while. Unless you want to eat now?"

  "No. I'm fine." Nicolette didn't think she could force down a

  bite of food if someone held a gun to her head. After the

  detectives' visit and that moment between her and Heath,

  she was a jumble of conflicting emotions; the anxiety brick in

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  her stomach was double its former size. "Have a seat. I'll be

  right back."

  When she returned, Heath was seated on the couch, one

  ankle resting on the opposite knee.

  "There isn't much." She handed him the thin stack, in

  addition to the photos he'd asked for, as she lowered next to

  him. He uncrossed his legs and sat forward, bringing his knee

  so close to hers they almost touched. Again. She swallowed

  hard.

  She waited in silence while he shuffled through the

  paperwork, sometimes pausing for a brief moment, other

  times seeming to read thoroughly.

  He took a Tasmanian Devil Pez dispenser out of his pocket

  and held it out to her. "Want some?"

  She raised her eyebrows inquisitively. "Pez candies?"

  He gave a boyish grin. "My friend, Burke's son gave this to

  me when I quit smoking. I haven't had a cigarette in six

  months, but now I'm hooked on these damn things."

  She laughed and shook out a few of the candies before

  handing the dispenser back to Heath.

  "You highlighted anything that seemed unfamiliar to you,

  right?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  "I'll want to take some notes later, maybe ask questions

  about some of the calls that aren't highlighted. As a matter of

  fact, what I'd like you to do is make notes on all the non-

  highlighted phone calls, the name of the person the number

  belongs to, their relationship with you and Rudy, the type of

  business they're in, anything at all that comes to mind."

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  "Okay. That will take a while."

  "You have a copier here?"

  "Yes. You want me to make a copy of the paperwork?"

  "Just the phone records. That way, you can be working on

  those notes while I keep one copy to work from."

  "Will do. What else?"

  He seemed to be running through a to-do list in his mind.

  "Where's his cell phone? There may be text messages or

  voice mail that won't show up in the report from the cell

  provider."

  "I don't know. It was never recovered."

  His eyes narrowed. "Did he have it with him the night of

  the accident?"

  "Yes. I called him from home a little while before he—

  before the accident. He was in the car, and we spoke. The

  cops were able to verify the call, so they know I was here."

  She shrugged and brushed back a hank of hair. "I guess they

  think I had someone kill him. I don't know. It's all so crazy.

  The police think his missing cell phone is another thing that

  looks suspicious, but I would think it could have gotten lost in

  the wreckage, you know? The window was busted. It could

  have flown out and be lying somewhere in the area, but they

  just weren't able to find it."

  "That's possible," Heath agreed, but he looked troubled. "I

  need you to write down numbers where I can contact you, or

  anyone else you think I need to talk to. A list of numbers and

  addresses for the charity, your cell, whatever you think I

  might need."

  "Okay. I'll get that for you. Anything else?"

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  "Not at the moment." He frowned as if considering his next

  words carefully. "Nic, I do need to ask you something."

  "Sure."

  "I told the police that I knew you didn't have anything to

  do with Rudy's death, and I firmly believe that."

  "Thanks." His confidence in her was heartwarming. It

  seemed lately she'd been the object of suspicion and rumors.

  It was nice to have a friend who felt otherwise.

  "I also told them there was no way you had been unfaithful

  to Rudy."

  She waited. And noticed he hadn't tagged on the phrase,

  and I firmly believe that.

  Pain filled her heart. "Heath? Do you think I cheated on

  Rudy?"

  He didn't meet her eyes. "I didn't say I think you did

  cheat. But, as much as I hate to, I'm going to have to ask if

  you did. Not only could it be a big factor in why the police

  suspect you, it could also have something to do with your

  blackmailer."

  "What?" Angry and hurt, she pushed to her feet and

  resumed pacing. Between her and Heath, she might end up

  having to replace the carpet. "I can't believe you'd ask me

  that." Shoving a hand through her hair, she shook her head.

  "I thought you knew me better than that. You're the only man

  who—"

  God. She'd been about to say he was the only man she'd

  consider cheating with. She'd like to say that she wouldn't

  even cheat with Heath. After all, when they'd shared that

  moment during Rudy's coma, nothing actually happened, but

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  as shaming as it was, she couldn't honestly say that under

  the right circumstances, she would be able to resist. Like, if

  Heath had pushed the issue back then, if she'd known of

  Rudy's drug use at the time. If, if, if...

  Truth was, she couldn't say positively for sure that she

  would never have cheated on Rudy with Heath. But she

  damned sure didn't want him to know that. And she most

  definitely didn't want him to think she'd cheated with

  someone else.

  "You're the only man I thought would never believe that of

  me," she amended, although not convincingly.

  Heath stood. He walked over and halted her pacing with a

  hand to her arm. Nothing sexual about his gesture, it was

  meant as nothing more than friendly, but it still sent waves of

  warm desire through her body.

  "Hey, I'm sorry," he said softly. "I do believe you. I had to

  ask, though. Do you understand why?"

  She moved away from his touch, nodding. "I do. I'm sorry

  I reacted that way. Things have been so crazy though. I'm

  afraid I'm a little on edge."

  "I can imagine why you would be."

  "I want you to know I never cheated on Rudy. Not once.

  That's why I wanted you to stay in a separate place. I don't

  want to give the police any reason to suspect I was unfaithful.

  They might even believe you and I killed him. For the

  insurance money, or so we could be together."

  "Good point. Something I don't understand, though, is why

  the police haven't uncovered Rudy's drug use in their

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  investigation. They're usually pretty thorough. As far as you

  know, have they?"

  "It seems they haven't. I guess he kept it hidden well.

&n
bsp; After all, even I didn't know about it."

  "If you tell them, it might get the heat off you. His death

  could have been drug related, and that information might

  turn the investigation in another direction."

  "I thought about that myself, but I'm not sure it would be

  worth it. His death likely had nothing to do with drugs. I'm

  not even sure it was murder."

  "You still believe it was an accident?"

  She shrugged. "I really can't imagine anyone wanting to

  harm Rudy. If they did, I want them caught and punished,

  but I just don't think revealing his drug use and smearing his

  name will make that happen."

  Heath nodded. "Okay then, for the time being, we'll play it

  your way. But, I'm telling you right now, if I uncover anything

  that points to a drug-related killing, anything that will help

  get you out from under suspicion, I won't hold it back from

  the authorities."

  She thought about that. A much as she would hate for

  Rudy's skeletons to see the light of day, if it helped bring his

  killer to justice—providing there was a killer—or if it kept her

  from being charged with his murder, she'd have to agree it

  was necessary.

  "Okay," she said. "I can live with that."

  "It'll all work out, Nic." Once again, he took her hand, and

  once again, it had an effect on her. It occurred to her they

  might have to back off on the touching thing. She wasn't sure

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  how much of this she could withstand without doing

  something she might regret.

  Heath pulled onto the shoulder of Highway 152 and North

  Hampton. It was the first time he'd visited the scene of

  Rudy's car wreck.

  Up until now he had no reason to. He'd thought it was an

  accident and didn't want to view the scene where his best

  friend's life ended. Rudy hadn't actually died at the scene.

  He'd spent two weeks in a coma from which he'd never

  recovered. But for all intents and purposes, Rudy had died

  here.

  Someone had erected a makeshift memorial, a white cross

  with a photo of Rudy in the center. An array of flowers lay at

  the base of the cross. Bright yellow, red, and pink blooms

  contrasted against the bed of white snow. The other flowers

  had likely been there a while and were dead, some had been

  blown and scattered several feet in all directions.

  A few cars whizzed by, but very few. It was easy to see

  how an accident out here in this somewhat remote location

  would go un-witnessed. Also easy to see why it would be a

  choice location to commit murder.

  The wind picked up, flakes of snow blew into his face. He

  hunkered down in his jacket, wishing he'd worn his heavier

  coat since he'd likely be outside for a while.

  He'd left Nicolette's without unloading his things. He

  needed a breather. Seemed he'd spent the past few days

  fleeing from painful situations. At his mother's, it had been

  the memory of the father he'd trusted who'd betrayed him. At

  Nicolette's, the memory of his best friend and the news that

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  he might have been murdered. Mostly, he wanted a respite

  from the pain of being so close to Nic, yet not able to have

  her. The pain that came from the guilt of wanting his best

  friend's widow so badly it was a physical ache.

  It was kind of strange that he was too much of a coward to

  face those things, yet he'd stared down the enemy on a

  battlefield and hadn't even considered backing down. Not that

  he'd been thrilled about war, but at least he'd handled it with

  a modicum of bravery and determination. How pathetic was it

  that he feared his feelings more than he did the likelihood of

  dying?

  He walked slowly along the highway in the direction Rudy's

  car traveled. The cops had been right. No skid marks. Any

  signs of the car, or its deadly trip down the incline, had long

  since vanished. Weather, new grass growth, and

  investigators, had changed the landscape immeasurably.

  He looked over the steep incline at the area of Rudy's final

  resting place. Not far away was a baseball field where he and

  Rudy had played on a ragtag team the neighborhood boys

  had put together. His brothers had played, too, even Jesse.

  Hell, she could hit as well as any boy on the team, and she

  could throw almost as hard. They'd played touch football in

  that same field. Heath remembered one game where Rudy

  and Jesse had ended up in a heap on the ground and Rudy

  had taken just a little longer than he should have to untangle.

  Heath was certain Rudy had a crush on Jesse, although he'd

  never admitted it. No way could he admit something like that.

  Jesse had always been one of the guys. It would almost have

  been like admitting to having a crush on a dude.

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  Heath laughed at the memory. The laughter died as

  suddenly as it had come and sadness filled his soul.

  Never again would he play sports—although at their age,

  the playing had morphed to watching—with his best friend.

  Never again would they harass one another in that good-

  natured bordering on mean-spirited way that was standard in

  the world of the male species. Heath still couldn't process that

  Rudy's death, which he'd thought had been a tragic accident,

  might have been murder.

  He made his way cautiously down the steep incline,

  slipping occasionally on the frozen grass. At the bottom, he

  surveyed the surrounding area, looked back up toward the

  highway. Steep, but not deadly steep. A car could go off the

  incline without necessarily ending its journey in a serious, let

  alone fatal, crash. From what he understood, Rudy had

  suffered head trauma in the accident, which put him in the

  coma that eventually killed him. But how had he suffered

  head trauma that severe? Heath was certain Rudy wore a

  seat belt. He always did.

  So how had going off this incline caused his death? And

  why had he gone off the incline in the first place? Was he

  driving so fast he lost control? Even so, why hadn't he tried to

  stop? Heath couldn't recall what the road conditions were like

  at that time. It was January and they'd gotten some bad

  weather the December before, then again late in January, but

  Rudy's accident had been around the second week of the new

  year. Heath couldn't remember icy roads at that time, and

  unlike Oklahoma City, the Kansas City area was fairly well-

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  equipped for inclement weather, and road conditions were

  seldom hazardous.

  Which would all tie in with the police's theory that Rudy's

  accident was no accident.

  Did the murder have anything to do with the blackmail?

  Heath didn't have the same access to information and

  ev
idence the police did. He'd feel better if he could share

  everything he knew with them, but he'd made a promise to

  Nicolette. And she was right. The blackmailer had threatened

  her life. The police may or may not believe her and even if

  they did, there was a good chance they wouldn't be able to

  find out anything more than Heath could. They might have

  more means at their disposal, but when it came to protecting

  Nicolette, they damned sure didn't care as much as Heath.

  He spent more than an hour looking for Rudy's lost cell

  phone, or other clues the police might have missed. As

  expected, he found nothing. Not only had too much time

  passed, but the investigators had no doubt been thorough.

  What the hell had happened to Rudy's phone? If he found

  it, would it provide clues to what had happened to Rudy or to

  the blackmailer? More than likely, the answer was yes, which

  also probably answered why the phone was nowhere to be

  found.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

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  Chapter Seven

  "The room is beautiful!" Marla exclaimed.

  They'd rented a room at a local museum. Each year, they

  held the event at a different location, and so far, this place

  was Nicolette's favorite. In addition to the room being perfect,

  the museum brimmed with Missouri history and displays that

  both children and adults would enjoy.

  "It is gorgeous." Nicolette twirled around, surveying the

  space from all angles. In her mind's eye, she was already

  picturing the tree and the Santa with a line of children waiting

  to climb on his lap. She could also picture the older kids. They

  would try to play it cool and pretend they thought it was

  lame, but their eyes would give away their excitement when

  they opened their gifts.

  Her heart swelled with the first real rush of Christmas spirit

  she'd experienced this year, but quickly turned to pain when

  she thought of Rudy and how this would be her first charity

  party without him.

  "Hey, you okay?" Marla's ice blue eyes searched Nicolette's

  face. "You look like a kid in a candy store one minute and a

  death row inmate in the next."

  Nicolette forced a smile. "Just thinking about Rudy. He

  loved these parties so much. They meant the world to him."

  "I know," Marla said softly. She looked away and began