Tyler glanced at the card, then met Summer’s eyes and bobbed his head.
Back in the truck, Nolan sighed heavily. “He’s not our man.”
“Then the grieving, guilt-ridden, spurned love interest isn’t an act to throw us off?” she asked, wanting confirmation of her own feelings.
He cast a glance to her, one eyebrow raised. “Didn’t it look genuine...smell genuine to you?”
“Well, yeah. But the guilt could have been because he flew off the handle after being rejected and he strangled her in a jealous rage.”
Nolan pursed his lips then shook his head. “Naw. My gut says he’s not responsible for anything connected to her death.”
She cocked her head. “Your gut? And how reliable is your gut? I thought you were a by-the-book kinda guy.”
He reached for the ignition and started the engine. “Usually. But my gut’s also very reliable.” He put the truck in gear then added, “For what it’s worth, in case you couldn’t hear, Tyler just told me that the night he kissed her, Patrice admitted to being in a relationship with a married man.”
Summer sat taller, her pulse accelerating. “Kenneth Dawson?”
Nolan flipped up his hand. “He didn’t know a name, but... Dawson would be my guess.”
Summer plowed a hand into her hair and expelled a long breath. “This case keeps getting more arms and legs all the time. I’m getting cross-eyed trying to keep it all straight.”
“Whiteboard.”
“Pardon?”
“This is the time in a case I’d start making a chart on a whiteboard and looking at the connections, asking what was missing. We need to fit some of these puzzle pieces together.” He glanced at her. “Do you have a whiteboard?”
She wrinkled her nose. “No.”
He flipped on his turn signal. “Then our next stop is the office supply store. We’ve got some charting to do.”
* * *
Yossi greeted them at the door when they returned to her office, and Summer lifted her cat in her arms for a cuddle while Nolan hung the new whiteboard on an empty wall. Uncapping a marker, he wrote down the names of everyone they’d interviewed so far, including Patrice’s roommates, her family and the guys from her class, plus Jane Oliver, Horace Corgan and anyone else of interest that had been mentioned in the interviews, putting a star by Kenneth Dawson’s name. In another column, he wrote out facts they knew about Patrice in the months before her death. Classes she took at the vocational college, places she’d interviewed for work, the places she frequented, such as Bailey’s Bar, and general information about her online social media accounts.
“We know Bailey’s is the last place she was seen by Tyler.” Nolan circled Bailey’s on the board and drew a line to Tyler’s name.
“We should go by Bailey’s and ask about surveillance video from that night. Maybe they made an extra copy since they had to give one to the cops. It’s been a long time, and I know places like that record over old video after a few days, but it can’t hurt to ask. I want to study the other faces at the bar that night. Who could have followed Patrice when she left?”
Nolan jotted Surveillance video? over Bailey’s.
Standing behind her desk, Summer bit her bottom lip as she stared at the board. “When did Rae say Kenneth Dawson would be back in town? I really want to talk to him, especially in light of what Tyler told us about Patrice seeing a married man.”
When she glanced at Nolan, he had an odd expression on his face. He seemed to be staring at her mouth. “Um, I don’t... I don’t recall. You...wrote it down, didn’t you?”
“Right.” Dismissing the strange look he’d given her, she bent over her notebook and flipped through the pages to find her notes regarding Dawson. “Here it is. He is scheduled to be back Monday. So that’d be the fourteenth.”
Without straightening, she glanced up at Nolan, but his stare was fixed on something below her own gaze. Glancing down, she realized her bent-over position left her V-neck sweater gaping, and he had a clear view of her cleavage. Without thinking about who she was talking to, she spouted an automatic sarcastic response. “See something you like, pal?”
Nolan’s gaze flew up to hers, and his face reddened with almost laughable guilt. He spun away from her and swiped a hand down his stricken face. She cracked a smile as she straightened until the depth of his distress dawned on her. He wasn’t simply embarrassed at being caught gawking. Something had him truly upset. She could too easily guess what. And it all went back to Charlotte.
His friends-only, hands-off rule with her was based on his bad experience with Charlotte. He distrusted his own choices because of Charlotte. The barricade that kept her from pursuing the attraction she felt for Nolan was erected because of Charlotte.
A fury roiled inside her for all that the woman lying about Nolan was costing not only him, but herself, as well. What if she and Nolan were meant to be together, and the shadow Charlotte had cast over Nolan’s life was the only thing keeping them apart?
Her fists balled, and her teeth clenched at the notion. Summer Davies was not the sort to stand by and let some scheming, manipulative bitch dictate what happiness she could have!
Her body trembling with pent-up rage, she stalked around her desk and yanked on Nolan’s arm. Aiming a finger in his face, she asked, “Nolan Colton, do you have feelings for me?” Then, narrowing her eyes, she clarified bluntly, “Sexual feelings?”
He swallowed so hard, she saw his Adam’s apple bob. “Summer, I’m sorry...”
She threw her hand up. “Stop with the apologizing and answer the damn question! Are you attracted to me that way or not?”
A muscle in his cheek twitched as he tightened his jaw. His eyes flashed hot as he stared back at her. “I’d have thought what happened at the creek yesterday had answered that.”
The reminder of the steamy kisses they’d shared the day before sent a rush of heat through her. She trembled as a tingle of anticipation rolled through her. Summer squared her shoulders and canted toward him. “Okay then.”
When she rose on her toes to kiss him, he put a hand on her arm and stepped back. “But that doesn’t mean—”
She growled her frustration, cutting him off. “Screw the buts, Nolan! And screw Charlotte for making you so wary and reluctant to follow your heart! If you want something in life, you should go after it full throttle. Fight for what you want! No ifs, ands or buts.” She stamped her foot as she jerked erect. Grabbing the front of his shirt, she pressed her body against his. “I want to kiss you, Nolan, and I’m prepared to fight your Charlotte-centric resistance to get what I want!” She rose on her toes and, getting in his face, she added in a low tone, “Because I’m betting it’s what you want, too.”
With that, she captured his lips and kissed him for all she was worth. He didn’t fight her. In fact, he deepened the kiss, his hands framing her face as he swept his tongue over her lips. She opened to him, greeted him with a matching fervor.
When a tiny voice of caution whispered in her brain that Nolan would leave town again soon, that he was too dedicated to his career to be committed to her, she shut the voice down. The thrumming demand in her blood was too strong to give the what-ifs any consideration now.
She turned her thoughts, instead, to imagining Nolan stripped down to his birthday suit and twining his body in passion with hers. Summer’s knees grew weak. If he hadn’t wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her flush against him, she might have staggered.
When her lungs craved oxygen and she had no choice but to raise her head from their kiss, Summer gently pried loose of Nolan’s embrace and stepped back, panting. Grinning.
His concerned expression was almost comical. Almost. Except she knew the source of his doubts and wanted to scream. Knew he was retreating into his head again, overthinking things.
“Summer, do you—”
Before he could fin
ish the question, she swept her arm across her desk and sent all the papers, her mug, her stapler, her pen holder and her sticky-note dispenser onto the floor. She stared at her handiwork for a few seconds then laughed. “Oh my God! I’ve always wanted to do that! Always wanted a reason to do that.” She turned to him, a wicked grin tugging the corner of her mouth. “And it felt so good.”
He huffed his amusement and disbelief. “You really are something, you know that?”
“Yeah, yeah, FBI guy.” She grabbed his shirt front and pulled him with her as she backed to the desk and scooted her bottom onto it. “Less talk and more kissing.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him down with her as she lay back on the top of her desk. “Make love to me, Nolan.”
His smile lit his face. “Can’t be much clearer than that.”
* * *
The warm body beside him on the narrow cot stirred, and Nolan roused from the lethargy that had overcome him after the most satisfying sex he’d ever experienced. Summer turned her head to peek up at him, and he brushed strands of her honey-toned hair from her face.
“Hey, you,” she murmured drowsily.
“Hey, yourself. Did you know you snore?”
She twitched and frowned. “I do not!”
“Do, too.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he kissed the tip of her nose. “And I think it is adorable.”
“Look, it’s allergy season in Texas right now, and—”
He chuckled. “It’s always allergy season in Texas, Sum. I’d bet Texas is Spanish for ‘allergies.’”
“Probably.”
She wiggled to reposition herself, and the slide of her naked skin against his aroused him all over. “What time is it? I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
He glanced around the small windowless space she used as a bedroom and spotted his pants discarded near the door. “My phone was in the pocket of my jeans last I saw it, and they are way over there.” He pointed. “Getting to them would require leaving this toasty nest...and you—” he pressed a quick kiss to her lips “—so I’m not inclined to get it.”
“Hmm.” She gave him a mock serious look and nod. “And I think mine was on my desk before I cleared it for sex.”
He chuckled, remembering her brash move. “That was classic.”
“I think I broke my stapler.”
He snuggled her closer and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll get you a new one for Christmas.”
“Christmas?” She leaned her head back and pulled a disgruntled face. “That’s two months away! How am I supposed to keep papers together until then?”
“I don’t know...paper clips, maybe?” His phone buzzed as he laughed at her teasing scowl. He considered ignoring the mobile, but his FBI training and his reluctance to miss an important message compelled him to crawl out from the warm blankets and retrieve his cell phone. He glanced at the caller ID. It was his lawyer. By the time he picked up, the call had gone to his voice mail. Like the cool air in the room on his sex-warmed skin, the reminder of his troubles back in Chicago doused him with a cold slap of reality.
What was he doing, making love to Summer? Why had he allowed himself to get more deeply involved with a woman who he knew invested her whole heart in everything and everyone she cared about?
A pit of regret balled in his stomach, and he grumbled a curse word.
Summer sat up on the narrow cot, clutching the sheet to her chest. “Nolan? What’s wrong? Who was it?”
“My lawyer. I’ll, uh...call him back from the bathroom.” He glanced at his phone again before gathering his pants and socks from the floor. “Listen, it’s three thirty. We should get going. Didn’t you have more interviews on the docket today?”
She only stared at him, a knit in her brow. “What happened to staying in and...playing?” She lifted a corner of her mouth, although her eyes reflected wariness. “Didn’t you have fun?” She hitched her head, indicating the bed.
He drew a slow breath, bent to pick up his shoes and glanced at a crack in her wall, unable to meet her sad eyes. “I did, but...”
“Nolan, don’t—”
“Summer, we both know this was a mistake.”
He heard her frustrated huff. “I know no such thing. It meant something to me!”
“And that is exactly why it was a mistake.” He turned his back and started out of the room. He stopped long enough to whisper, “I’m sorry, Summer.”
Chapter 14
Summer had known Nolan might react like this, second-guessing their lovemaking, since he’d been so adamant earlier about keeping things platonic. But that didn’t make his characterization of what had been so great, so special for her as a mistake hurt any less.
She’d also known, in the moments just after he’d left her bed, that he wanted to punch something. She’d watched him prowl her office like a caged tiger, his jaw tight and his fists clenched, and she hadn’t needed their close connection to know he was strung as tight as a piano wire. Since she could stand to work out some tension and frustration, as well, she’d directed him to her gym. They’d both used the heavy bag equipment for a boxing-style workout, then grabbed showers before heading out for their next interviews.
Though Nolan appeared more relaxed after their workouts, Summer was bone tired and heartsore. But she refused to let her personal life interfere with her responsibility to her client.
“I want to talk to Tom Kain,” she told Nolan as he tossed his gym bag in the back seat.
He slid behind the steering wheel and sent her a long, silent, grim stare.
“You can go with me or I can go alone,” she said, guessing at the reason for his hesitation. “But I am going.”
Nolan’s expression shifted, reluctant resignation replacing the steely skepticism.
She flipped her hand over. “There are too many rumors about him for me to ignore the possibility of his connection to at least some part of this big puzzle.”
He huffed. “Fine.”
Falling quiet again, he drove out of the gym parking lot and headed back toward downtown.
She studied his profile, his damp hair, his stony jaw. “So is this how it’s going to be now? You sullen and silent, withdrawn, giving terse answers to my questions and comments?”
He cut a glance to her, frowned, then rolled his shoulders as he sighed. “No. But...this is why...” He clenched his teeth and shook his head. “I need time to process. Us. This case.” He flicked another quick look to her. “The call to my lawyer today.”
“Did he have bad news?”
“No. Not exactly. He said Humboldt, my boss, called. They finished their investigation and interviews and will meet this weekend to review the information with internal affairs. I should have an answer soon about my future with the FBI.”
Summer’s gut kicked. “Oh. Wow. Um, that was fast. Do you think...did your lawyer think that was a good sign? That they wrapped it up so fast?”
Nolan shrugged. “He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. It is what it is. Is this the turn?” he said, pointing to the intersection ahead of them.
“Yeah. Left.”
In the last couple blocks to the auto shop, no more was said about Nolan’s future with the FBI, about their postsex relationship or about any of the things swirling in Summer’s head and heart. Closing her eyes, Summer centered herself and mentally shifted into business mode. She needed to be on top of her game for this interview with the suspected drug dealer.
They arrived at Kain’s garage just as a mechanic in oil-stained coveralls was closing the bay doors and moving inside a sign on a metal stand that read “Ask About Our Fall Tune-Up Special.” Summer gave the man a convivial grin as she stepped out of Nolan’s Cherokee, and the mechanic bobbed a nod of greeting.
“Sorry, ma’am,” the coverall-clad man said, “but we just closed for the day. You’ll have to come back tomorrow
.”
“We’re not actually here for service. We’d like to speak to Tom Kain, if he’s in.” Summer estimated the mechanic to be in his late forties, based on his balding pate and threads of gray in his short-trimmed beard.
The man frowned and drew a rag from his pocket to wipe his hands. “He’s in. What’s your business with him?”
“We just have a few questions we’d like to ask him,” Nolan said as he moved up behind her.
The other man’s eyes narrowed on him. “You cops?”
“Why would you think that?”
“You’ve got that look about ya,” the mechanic, whose name patch only said Walter, replied, eyeing Nolan.
“I do?” Summer asked, tipping her head. “I’m usually told I look like I’m still in high school. And a cheerleader at that.” She snorted. “Which I wasn’t. I played softball and was on the debate team.” She flashed another friendly grin. “So would you tell Mr. Kain he has guests? We promise not to take too much of his time.”
The mechanic continued to stare at them suspiciously for a moment before raising one shoulder and turning to stroll to the front desk of the auto shop. Summer and Nolan followed him inside.
“Wait here,” Walter told them before he disappeared through a side door and down a short hallway. The scents of petroleum and mildew were heavy in the air, and Summer cast her gaze around at the cans of motor oil, filters, hoses and headlight bulbs that lined the shelf behind the counter. The wall to the work bays had a large picture window where old newspaper clippings, yellow and curled with age, had been taped. Another wall sported a calendar with a photo of some obviously pricey sports car Summer couldn’t identify.
Hands in his jacket pockets, Nolan, too, was taking in the details of the business, and she wondered what he was noticing that she’d missed.
“Evening, folks. Walter said you were looking for me?” The amiable greeting brought her attention back to the door where Walter had left moments earlier. A man with light brown hair, a square jaw and startling blue eyes approached. Was this Tom Kain? Summer hadn’t expected someone so...good-looking, so young, so clean-cut to be the owner of an auto shop. Her conscience pricked her for being guilty of stereotyping. Then she recalled Avery’s belief that Tom Kain was dealing drugs from his shop and another stereotype was busted. Kain looked more like he should be selling life insurance or cleaning people’s teeth than what she typically imagined drug dealers looked like.
Colton 911--Deadly Texas Reunion Page 16
