Mountain Pursuit: Smoky Mountain Investigation ; Mountain Rescue

by Annslee Urban

“Pay phone? But the number came up restricted, like a cell—”

  Swiftly, Dave cut her off. “Pay phones show up that way. The phone company wants calls going out, not coming in.”

  Disappointment pulsed in her veins. “The guy’s pretty smart.”

  Dave shrugged. “We knew it was a long shot. But we’ll keep the wire on. Anyway, think about what we talked about and let me know when you come up with some names.”

  She nodded as he pulled his radio from his belt and headed out the door.

  “So, a whole slew of love interests, but no serious boyfriends since we broke up?” Nick settled in the seat beside her, giving her a dubious look.

  Hesitating, Kylie stared into the masculine face she remembered so well. His strong jawline and the hint of the smile stretched across it brought her back.

  Once she’d known him better than anyone. Now he was as mysterious as any first date. And answering a question like that, well...talk about social suicide. The truth seemed too simple. Too lonely.

  Especially compared to his lively career. A Special Forces soldier. Strong. Gorgeous. Women everywhere probably flocked to him.

  Kylie picked up her cup, curling her hand around it. What was the point of trying to fluff up her love life? She had no reason to compete. She caught his eye, feigning nonchalance. “Nope, no serious boyfriends since we broke up.”

  Nick narrowed his gaze slightly. “I hope it wasn’t because of me. I know I left you hanging.”

  Kylie held up a hand, halting the direction the conversation was heading and protecting her heart at the same time.

  “Nick, we were kids. No guilt, okay?”

  “Well, I should have handled things differently and I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice, regret in his tone.

  Her heart squeezed, but she managed a smile. “Me, too.”

  SEVEN

  The next day, Nick inhaled a long breath and rang up the last few items for the customer in line, thankful that the morning rush at the store was letting up.

  “Thank you, ma’am. Have a good day.” He manufactured a smile and handed the patron her two bags.

  The older woman nodded and made her way to the exit.

  Nick eased back against the counter and glanced around, eyeballing the few milling customers that were left. No one seemed to need his attention.

  Good. He needed a little reprieve.

  Even when he’d worked at the store with his father as a kid, he’d dreaded his time at the register. Not that he preferred to be lazing around. Give him an ax and some logs and he’d chop and stack wood all day. Unlike Steven, who was into the business end of things, which had worked out pretty well for his family.

  Nick crossed his arms and let go of a breath, air whistling through his teeth.

  He’d always felt claustrophobic being cooped up in the store. A phenomenon his parents hadn’t given much credence to.

  But here he was ten years later and that claustrophobic feeling was back; the room was closing in on him while fresh air was being sucked out. He gulped a breath. He was ready to be out of this place.

  With the turmoil about Kylie clogging every brain cell, the sooner he got out of there, the better.

  He glanced at his watch. Almost noon. He’d called Roger, one of the salesclerks, to come in early. Hopefully, he’d remembered.

  Even before Nick completely finished the thought, the bell on the front door jangled and Roger walked in.

  Just in time. Standing upright, Nick untied his shop apron and tossed it under the register. He worked his way around the counter, giving the employee a firm pat on the shoulder as he made his way to the exit. “Thanks, Roger. There will be a bonus in your paycheck for this.”

  “Hey, no problem. And thanks for the extra bucks.” The clatter of the bell punctuated Roger’s words as Nick walked out the century-old door.

  He couldn’t pay Roger enough.

  Thankfully, his brother didn’t mind him taking some time to be with Kylie. He seemed rather intrigued, in fact. Steven was probably surmising that something might rekindle between them. But after all this time, that wasn’t going to happen.

  Sorrow settled in Nick’s chest. Bad memories died hard, and so did regret.

  In the few days since he’d arrived, every recollection he wanted to erase from his life had seemed to slap him in the face. Conrad’s death still pricked at his heart like a rusty nail. And now Kylie reignited memories that he’d carefully kept hidden.

  If that wasn’t enough, Kylie was in danger. Anger welled up in his chest at the thought. He hated to even consider how much torment the stalker had planned before he physically harmed her.

  Something Nick wasn’t going to let happen.

  That notion started out as a plan and quickly bumped up to determination, giving him an adrenaline rush. Picking up his stride, he wove his way through the tightly packed parking area until he spotted his brother’s motorcycle.

  He stood there a moment and scratched his chin.

  The back tire was low. He’d probably hit a rock or nail on that rough road to Jake Plyler’s Barn. He made a mental note to stop by the gas station and have it checked out. One more thing on his overflowing list of things he had to get done today.

  Lunch first, he reminded himself as he fished keys from his front pocket.

  Nick swung onto the seat and started the cycle. Forty minutes later, he pulled into a parking spot at the Asheville Daily News. He’d promised Kylie he’d be there by one. He checked his watch—right on time. He secured his helmet on the back of the seat and pulled a bag and two canned drinks from the side pouch. Not an easy feat, stopping to pick up lunch and getting it to the destination uncrushed. Steven obviously hadn’t thought out that scenario when he purchased a motorcycle as his primary mode of transportation. Then again, bicycle riding hadn’t proved any better.

  Nick smiled at the thought of his brother holed up in the hospital with one leg in traction. A motorcycle spill could have been lethal. He’d have to remind his brother of that. A Hummer or a tank might prove to be a safer bet.

  As Nick neared Kylie’s desk, she looked up.

  “Lunch.” He lifted a crinkled bag.

  “Great. Do you mind if we eat inside? I’m waiting on my edits.”

  “Sure.”

  Grabbing a spare chair, he pulled it beside hers. He waited as she cleared a spot on her desk and spread a page from the newspaper on top.

  “Recycled, but clean.” She inclined her head and smiled.

  An impromptu picnic. Ah, so Kylie. He settled in the chair and handed her a soda.

  She popped the lid. “Smells good. Kind of rich and tangy. What did you bring?”

  Nick opened the bag. He glanced in and shook his head. “It started as barbecued grilled-chicken sandwiches and chips. Now I believe we have chicken flatbread and potato crumbs.”

  “Umm. Sounds good.” She laughed.

  “Still game for an adventure, I see.” He removed her lunch from the bag and handed it to her.

  She accepted his offering and arranged it on the desk in front of her.

  “That was one of the things I used to love about you. You never were afraid of trying new things.”

  She broke eye contact with him and took a bite of her sandwich, but not before he saw her gaze turn stormy.

  Nick nearly choked on the bite he’d taken. Love. Why’d he have to say that? Let alone used to love. Open mouth, insert foot. Size thirteen, at that.

  “I’m glad you still have an inquisitive spirit. It’s nice that some things don’t change.” He tried for clarification to make amends.

  “I’ve changed plenty, Nick.”

  “Oh?” Now he was curious.

  She took another bite, and he did also.

  “So.” He swallowed. “What changes have you made?”

  �
�Well,” she muttered, dabbing the sides of her mouth, “I’m more routine and settled. Not quite as impulsive as when I was younger. And, yes—” she met his gaze, her eyes focused on his “—it is awkward when you use the word love. Especially in the past tense.”

  The woman could read his mind. That hadn’t changed.

  “Sorry. I’ll try to watch my words.”

  She lowered her lashes, hiding her expression. “Thank you.”

  He took a bite of his sandwich, chastising himself for his poor choice of words.

  “I just don’t like to be reminded of my mistakes.” She finished her statement with a sigh and Nick bit his tongue to keep from choking. Mistake?

  Ouch. That hurt, in more ways than one.

  Nick sat there a moment, mulling over a response for a comment like that. True, their relationship hadn’t worked out, but he’d never considered it a mistake. A growing experience, maybe. Could she really believe it was anything other than that? Or was she just trying to get back at him?

  No. That didn’t sound like Kylie. She was too sweet.

  Taking another bite, he didn’t bother to try to figure out her motives. His years of training in psychological criminology had supplied him with insight into the behavior and mental processes of the criminal mind. But when it came to the mind of a woman, he was still at a loss.

  Nick wadded up the sandwich wrapper and tossed it into the trash. He’d let the mistake comment ride for the moment. For now he had more important tasks to attend to.

  Catching a stalker was number one on his list.

  An awkward quietness lapsed between them.

  Setting her canned drink on her desk, Kylie shot a quick glance at Nick from beneath her lashes. The bewilderment that had momentarily captured his features was displaced by a cool and relaxed expression.

  The poor man was probably confused by her sensitivity to their past. Obviously it wasn’t something he dwelled on.

  Kylie raised her drink to her lips again and took another sip. The logical part of her brain shouted, Good for him. But emotionally, her heart slipped a little.

  “By the way, I had a nice conversation with Dave today.” Nick finally spoke after chasing his last bite of chips down with a drink of cola.

  “He gave me permission to look over the facts in the case,” Nick continued, wiping his fingers with a paper napkin. “I plan to compile them on a flowchart and see how the pieces fit together.”

  She glanced at him, impressed. “You sound so organized.”

  The glint of fervor in his eyes impressed her even more. “It’s helps to write things down and study them on paper. I call it my investigative road map. Hopefully, the trail of clues on that map will lead us to your stalker.”

  “Sounds like a great plan.” She nodded.

  Nick displayed the dedication and zeal he’d had when he was young. A man of integrity who had a passion to fix what was broken, lend a helping hand and not let anyone down. Although it was an impossible quest to live up to, as it turned out.

  The precarious situation she’d put him in the night Conrad was killed still haunted her.

  With a plan to capture a panoramic view of the campsite at sunset for the yearbook, she’d coerced Nick into sneaking away from camp and coming along, knowing he wouldn’t let her go alone. Though the trek took longer than either of them had expected, she’d still selfishly pushed forward, not concerned enough about getting back before curfew.

  If her youthful judgment hadn’t been skewed, maybe Nick’s presence would have diverted the killer and spared Conrad’s life.

  She and Nick had pondered that question for days after the murder. It was no surprise that Nick had ended up fighting for his country, involved in the most deadly missions on earth. Penance.

  And her wrenching penance: a life without him.

  Kylie had played by the rules all her life, but one slipup had cost her everything.

  Stop it! She swallowed a sigh along with her bite. She’d rehashed enough. Besides, who was to say the outcome would have been different even if Nick had been there?

  Acid burned in her stomach and made eating impossible. She wadded up the last of her sandwich in its wrapper.

  From the corner of her eye, she caught Nick’s skeptical gaze.

  “Are you okay?”

  Kylie hesitated, then shrugged, twisting in her chair to face him. “Fine. Just thinking.”

  “The last few days have been pretty scary. I’m sure you have a lot on your mind.”

  Much more than he could imagine. She wiped her hands. “I’m coming along. I’m not too worried. I’m trying just to trust in the Lord.”

  Nick nodded, appearing to buy into her comment, but the strain in his eyes told her differently.

  He, too, was worried.

  Warmth trickled through her knowing he still cared. Then she came to her senses.

  Beyond Nick’s caring disposition, he was a master of intelligence, trained to take on hijackers, terrorists and serial killers. He’d stumbled into this mess, and being who he was, he couldn’t walk away. He was doing his job. Doing what he did best.

  She was only extraneous baggage.

  Gathering herself, she shoved away the troubling thoughts and got back to business.

  “Beyond collecting clues, what are we going to do about this maniac?”

  Nick laughed and the tension in the room dissolved some. “Believe me, I have plenty of ideas on what to do with this creep once he’s caught. But a bigger question still remains—who is he?”

  “That’s what we need to find out before law enforcement does. We have exclusive rights to this story and we need to hold on to them,” a deep voice rumbled from behind her.

  Kylie knew the culprit even before she shot a glance over her shoulder and locked her gaze on Max.

  “My life is in danger and you’re worried about an exclusive?”

  A slow grin cracked his lips as he made his way to her from the doorway. “Safety first, of course. Still, keep an investigative mind. Don’t push the creep away—draw him in. And once all the facts are in and the culprit is exposed, you’ll need to pounce on the story before our competition does.”

  Nick shot her an unamused look and Kylie breathed easier. She recognized that expression and it wasn’t a passive one. Settling back in her seat, she decided to let him take it from there.

  “What are you thinking? This is some sort of James Bond adventure flick?” Nick fried Max with a glare. “There’s a lunatic on the loose. When this thing finally ends and the credits roll, I don’t care who has the exclusive.”

  Max grinned and walked toward Nick. He thrust out his hand. “I’m Max Dawson, chief editor and Kylie’s boss. You must be Nick Bentley.”

  Nick rose from his seat and shook his hand, not impressed.

  “Kylie told me you were in town. I remember the article she wrote about you a few years back. You have quite a résumé.” Max fell back a step and draped his lanky frame along the edge of a desk. He crossed his arms.

  “Article?” Nick’s glance flicked to Kylie.

  A rush of bright pink invaded her cheeks and she smiled. “We ran a series on local heroes. Steven sent us information on you. We interviewed him for the story. Didn’t he tell you?”

  So that was how Kylie knew about his endeavors, not of her own accord. Nick’s ego deflated a bit. He reclaimed the seat.

  “No. Steven never mentioned it.” Good thing his brother was already laid up, because Nick wanted to wring his neck.

  He had enlisted in the military to do his part to protect his country. It wasn’t personal. It was duty. Leaving a friend in the lurch and abandoning the woman he loved—that was personal. And he had failed on both accounts. Hardly a hero.

  “The article received a lot of interest. Folks were quite impressed by the job you were doing to prote
ct our country.” Deeper color flooded Kylie’s cheeks.

  “Well, I suppose everyone could look good on paper. I’m a skilled soldier, nothing more. However,” he added after a pause, “I appreciate the tribute.”

  Although a stretch, he didn’t want to sound ungrateful, for Kylie’s sake.

  “Hero or not, I’m glad that you’re keeping an eye on Kylie.” Max stood and squeezed Kylie’s shoulder before he walked away. “Keep me posted on any new developments.”

  “Sure, Max.” Kylie shook her head.

  The vibes Nick was getting from Kylie’s editor were leaving him wary. “Is this guy for real?”

  “If you mean, is he really only in it for the story? Then probably.”

  Nick locked eyes with Kylie and settled back in his seat. Absently, he scratched his jaw. “I believe we have our first suspect.”

  “What?” Kylie’s mouth fell open. “Max is crazy, but not crazy crazy.”

  “Guilty, sweetheart, until proven otherwise.”

  “I believe it’s the other way around.”

  “Not in my book.”

  EIGHT

  Over the next couple days, seconds ticked by like hours.

  Bumping up her stride, Kylie paced the length of the living room to the kitchen and back again, pausing every now and again to glance out the window. Waiting was something she had never been good at, and with her stalker still on the loose, overcoming that flaw wasn’t happening.

  “Hey.” Nick caught her by the hand, interrupting her next step. “Remember, stalkers try not to be obvious. So I doubt he plans to come strolling up the driveway.”

  Absently, Kylie whirled toward him. “I can’t sit around and do nothing.”

  “Sure you can.” Nick gestured to a seat at the table.

  She hesitated, torn between her repetitious march and taking a break and sitting. A tangle of nerves knotted her stomach. Neither option enticed her.

  A moment later, Nick pulled out the chair and twisted it slightly, the legs skidding against the hardwood floor. “Here. Now sit. You can see out the window.” He patted the seat.

  Great. He was making fun of her.