The memory made her blink. She hadn’t relived that day in a long time. And this time the memory came with more details, bits and pieces she hadn’t remembered . . . until now.
The beer. She’d been in the kitchen, getting her dad a beer. That was the first time that memory had popped up.
“Alexia?” Hunter’s warm hand on her arm calmed her.
Her phone vibrated. “Excuse me.” She stepped from the room before she said something to Katie that she’d regret. The more she was around the woman, the less she liked her.
Alexia pressed the talk button and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Hi, this is Lori Tabor. How’re you doing?”
For a moment Alexia blanked, then her promise rushed back. Her classmate, the one on the reunion committee. “Oh, hi, Lori.”
“Do you have a minute to talk?”
Did she? A glance back through the window showed Hunter and Katie in deep discussion. “Yes. A few minutes. What can I do for you?”
“We’re having a meeting tomorrow night to discuss a few things. Would you mind meeting at my brother’s house? He has plans with my nephew and I’m watching my niece.”
Tomorrow? What was tomorrow? Wednesday? Thursday?
Thursday. She’d only been home two days? It seemed like a year.
“That should be fine. What time?”
“Let’s say six thirty. That should give most people enough time to get home from work and eat a bit. I’ll have some snacks here too.”
“See you then.”
Alexia hung up and turned back to see Hunter standing outside the door frowning at his phone.
“What is it?” she asked.
“My brother is once again up to no good.”
“What’s he doing now?”
Hunter sighed and slid his phone into its holder. He pulled out his keys from his pocket. “Getting ready to be arrested for drunk and disorderly. If his boss finds out about—” He stopped and shook his head. “Let me drop you off at your car and follow you back to Serena’s. Then I’ll go take care of Chad.”
“I need to check on my mother.”
“Right.” He rubbed a hand down his cheek.
Alexia shifted, torn. She knew Hunter needed to leave and yet she didn’t want to be stuck at the hospital. “Let me just call up there. If she’s sleeping, I’ll leave word with the nurse to let her know I called and then we can leave.”
“Okay.”
A minute later, she was on the phone with one of the nurses in charge of her mother’s care.
“She requested something for pain only a few minutes ago. By the time you get up here, she’ll probably be asleep again.”
Alexia sighed. “All right. Tell her I asked about her, please?”
“Sure. Oh, here comes Pastor Stewart. She’ll have some company after all.”
Alexia swallowed. “Okay. Thanks.”
She hung up and frowned. “I just really can’t see this.”
“What?”
“My mother dating her pastor. It doesn’t compute.”
Hunter gave her a slight smile. “Give it time.”
Hunter felt his temperature escalating by full degrees as he drove toward Serena’s, his mind on his brother and his antics. The woman beside him remained silent.
“His wife left him,” he finally said.
“What?”
“Chad’s wife. She left him and took their six-year-old daughter with her. She rarely lets him see her. It’s eating him up.”
“Oh, that’s awful.” Compassion rang in her voice.
Hunter wondered why he was sharing such personal family information with her, but he wanted her to know. “I just want you to understand where he’s coming from. What’s going on with him.”
“Did she leave him because he’s a drunk?”
Her blunt words cut like a knife. Hunter shot her a glance. “He’s not a drunk.” At least not yet. “He’s headed in that direction, I’ll admit, but . . .” He sighed and rubbed his head. “This drinking thing is a new development.”
The compassion in her gaze never wavered. Neither did the flat conviction in her voice. “He may not be an alcoholic yet, but much more of what he’s doing and he’ll be there shortly.”
He blinked, not expecting that response. One minute she was full of sympathy, the next she was as blunt as his grandfather’s old pocketknife.
“Why do you say that?”
“I lived with one for the first eighteen years of my life. I recognize a drunk when I come across one.” A pause. “But I probably shouldn’t have put it like that. I’m sorry.”
She was comparing Chad to her father. As bad as his brother got sometimes, deep down he was a decent guy.
So what exactly had her father done to her? Visions of all kinds of abuse flashed through his mind and he shuddered. “Did he abuse you?”
“Yes. Emotionally and physically.” She looked at him and sighed. “I see the question in your eyes. No. He never abused me sexually.”
Relief threaded through him. Then compassion. “You’re a survivor.”
“I don’t know about that.” She shrugged. “I guess. I’ve done what I’ve had to do. If that makes me a survivor, then—”
His phone rang, cutting her off. He threw her an apologetic look and snatched the device from the holder on his belt. “Hello?”
“Chad’s gone.” The bartender’s deep bass echoed in Hunter’s ear.
“What do you mean he’s gone?”
“Your sister came and picked him up.”
Hunter’s brows shot north. “Okay. Thanks.” He made a mental note to check on Chad later. For now, he found himself grateful for Christine’s intervention.
Because the more he learned about Alexia, the more he wanted to know.
22
Wednesday, 4:26 p.m.
Alexia entered Serena’s house and punched in the code to disarm the alarm. She planned to call to check on her mother, then take a warm bath to soak away the tensions of the day. Yoda greeted her with both paws to her midsection. She grunted and scratched her ears.
Hunter pushed against the door. “Will you let me come in for a few minutes?”
Yoda turned her attention to the newcomer and her ears dropped flat against her head until Hunter held out a hand for her to sniff. One whiff of the man and Yoda approved.
Alexia thought the dog had excellent taste; however, she wasn’t so sure she wanted Hunter in her personal space. She bit her lip. Every moment in his company drew her closer to him. Made her like him more and more. And that made her nervous. Her track record with men didn’t exactly inspire confidence in herself. If she was attracted to Hunter, there must be something wrong with him she hadn’t figured out yet.
“Why are you bothering with me, Hunter?”
He stepped inside and shut the door. He cocked his head and studied her. Finally he said, “Maybe because I feel like you’re worth it.”
Alexia gave a short laugh devoid of humor—or belief. “Worth it? I’m not so sure about that.”
Hunter took her hand and she let him. When he led her over to the couch and motioned for her to sit, she did. She also noticed that he didn’t let go of her hand. Goosebumps popped up.
His blue eyes bored into hers. “You don’t think you’re worth it?”
“Hunter, come on . . . I . . .” She looked away, feeling emotion rise up in her. She wasn’t ready to bare her soul to this man yet. If ever. Slipping into the place in her mind where she could gain control, she told herself not to let his compassionate eyes and strong shoulders lure her in. She couldn’t depend on him for help. She’d learned early in life that the only person she could trust was herself.
And that didn’t work out so great sometimes either.
“Seriously,” he said, leaning in, “why don’t you think you’re worth the trouble?”
She stood, her heart shaky, her emotions on edge. Alexia had never had anyone be quite so blunt with her before. “I don’t
want to do this. Not now.”
Hunter quit pressing. Leaning back, he studied her and she wanted to squirm. Finally she blurted, “Why is your partner so hostile to me?”
He folded his arms across a chest she wouldn’t mind resting her head against and pursed his lips. “I’m not sure,” he admitted.
“Do you think you could find out? If she and I have to be around each other very much, it would be helpful if she didn’t look at me like I was something she’d like to scrape off the bottom of her shoe.”
A smile curved his lips. “Don’t worry about Katie, she’ll come around.”
She had her doubts about that. “What time are you going to the Wickhams’ house?”
“After supper. Around seven thirty or so.”
“I want to go.”
“I don’t think that would be a very good idea.” He frowned.
“Please, Hunter? I think I really need to do this.” She stared at her hands. “I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t stop what happened.” She looked up. “But I can help find his killer. Mrs. Wickham liked me, but she’s always been a timid, kind of shy woman. She’d probably feel more comfortable having another female there.”
Hunter looked torn, then he stood. “I can always take Katie.”
Alexia grimaced. “Oh yeah. She has such a gentle way about her.”
He shot her a gently chiding look. “Let me think about it. I’ll give you a call.”
He headed for the door. She watched him step outside, then turn around to walk back to her and gently place a hand behind her head. Her stomach flipped as his head dipped. When his lips covered hers, she thought she might simply melt into the floor. The gentle sweetness of the kiss offered comfort . . . and maybe a promise.
He pulled back and stared down at her. “And for the record, you’re worth it. I think so and so does God. One day you’ll see that.”
The door shut, but his words and his kiss lingered, leaving her reeling. Why did he have to bring God into it? Of all the things he could have said, that last statement hadn’t been expected. Neither had that kiss. Feeling antsy, she walked to the window and peered out.
Something swiveled around her left ankle and she jumped. Looking down, she saw Chewie, the cat, blinking up at her. “Hmm. Must be time to feed you.”
As though the cat understood Alexia’s words, she turned and headed straight for the kitchen.
Alexia turned to follow the feline. From the corner of her eye, she caught a hint of movement outside. She paused and stared, probing the scenery beyond. Serena’s house sat on about an acre and a half of land. A few trees bordered the property, along with bushes and other shrubbery, giving it a feeling of isolation. Serena loved it. Alexia had found it peaceful at first.
Now, uneasiness with her isolation wiggled through her. She stood there for the next few minutes and saw nothing else that would account for the raised hair on her arms and her increased respirations.
Paranoia was not a feeling she was familiar with. Before the incident in Washington, she never worried that someone was out to get her or that she was being watched.
Now? She felt like something, someone, was out there, watching her. All the time. Just waiting for her to mess up and be alone so he could pounce.
Shuddering, she moved into the kitchen to feed the cat. Her cell phone rang, startling her, and she dropped the cat food can onto the floor. Grimacing at the sight of the splattered remains of Chewie’s dinner, she grabbed the phone.
“Hello?”
Silence on the other end. She tried again. “Hello?”
More silence.
Just as she was about to hang up, she heard, “Don’t think you can hide forever.”
Chills swept over her. “Excuse me?”
“Your detective friend can’t be with you all the time. I’ll find you and you’ll wish you’d never come back.”
“Who is this?” she demanded. Her heart pounded in her chest. “Why are you doing this to me! What do you want?”
“Where’s Jillian?”
“I don’t know!”
“And what about Serena? Huh? Where is she?”
How dare he! Alexia snapped. “None of your business! I wouldn’t tell you if I could.”
“Then there’s no reason to let you live. And this time I won’t kill the wrong person.”
Click.
Frozen fingers refused to cooperate. She tried again and managed to pry her grip loose. She set the phone on the counter and backed away from it, then grabbed the landline handset and punched in the number she’d memorized when he’d given it to her.
It rang once.
She hung up. No, she had to collect herself. Her thoughts. Figure out what to do. Then she could call Hunter.
Shaking, she took a deep breath and paced from one end of the kitchen to the other, forcing her brain to work. She ran through what she knew.
Someone wanted to know where Jillian was. And Serena.
That someone thought Alexia knew where they were.
That someone knew Alexia’s cell phone number.
The caller had seen Alexia with Hunter. The voice sounded similar to the one in the parking garage.
Her cell phone rang, jarring her once more, causing her heart to thump in anticipation of the whispery voice. Should she answer it or let it go to voice mail? She checked the caller ID. And let out a relieved breath.
Hunter.
“Hello?”
“Hi, did you just try to call me?”
She let out a wobbly laugh. “Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“Then I hung up.”
A chuckle reached her ear. “I figured that out. What can I do for you?”’
“I just got a . . . terrifying . . . phone call.”
“You sound shaky. Tell me about it.” His voice turned serious, all teasing aside.
She walked through the conversation word for word.
A swiftly indrawn breath was her only response for a few seconds. Then, “I’ll have the call traced. I don’t like it.”
“Ha! You don’t like it? I can’t say I cared much for it either.”
“At least you’re keeping your sense of humor.”
She sighed. “No. I’m really not. Sarcasm is my defense mechanism. I’m scared, Hunter. He said, ‘Next time I won’t kill the wrong person.’ Sounds like Devin was killed because . . .” She swallowed, not wanting to finish the thought. “Someone seems to be after me and I’m not sure why.”
“And it sounds like we need to find Jillian and let Serena in on what’s happening. She told me that Jillian called her not too long ago when I asked what happened to her after high school, but as far as I know, Jillian hasn’t been in touch with anyone since that last call.”
“I haven’t talked to her.” Her concern for her friends deepened. “At least Serena’s out of the country and safe, but Jillian . . . I just don’t know about her.”
“Well, somehow they seem to be connected to what’s going on with you.” A pause. “In the meantime, don’t go anywhere alone.”
“Then pick me up before you go to the Wickhams’. I’m coming too.”
23
Wednesday, 4:48 p.m.
Hunter hung up the phone, concerned about the information Alexia had passed on to him. “And this time I won’t kill the wrong person,” she’d said. So Devin had been in the wrong place at the wrong time? And the killer had really been waiting for Alexia?
Maybe. It was something to consider.
But how would the killer have known Alexia would be home that day? Unless someone passed on that information? But who? And why? And why ask about Jillian?
Punching one number on his cell phone, he speed-dialed his partner. She answered on the second ring.
“Hello, Hunter.”
“Katie, I need you to do me a favor.”
“What’s that?”
Hunter filled her in.
“You really think someone called her and threatened her? What if she’s ma
king it up to throw suspicion off herself?”
“What if she’s not?”
A sigh filtered to him. “All right. I’ll run it.”
“Thanks. And we need to see what we can find on Jillian Carter. Alexia said she hasn’t talked to her since graduation night. But Serena heard from her not too long ago.”
“Jillian Carter. Got it. I’ll see what I can dig up.”
“Thanks again.”
Hanging up, he considered Katie’s animosity toward Alexia and wondered at it. He’d never seen her act this way. Sure, she got hot tempered with some of the guys they put away, and she had a mouth that landed her in trouble occasionally. But when it came to an investigation, professionalism reigned. Usually. He made a mental note to question her. It was time he found out what was going on with her.
Hunter filed the thoughts in the back of his mind for later. Right now he was determined to check on Chad before he left to question the Wickhams. Not only that, if he had time in between, he wanted to do a little investigating into graduation night ten years ago.
Pulling into his brother’s drive, he wondered how the man was making the mortgage payment. He hadn’t worked much since the court had given Stephanie full custody three months ago.
Chad had made the mistake of picking a fight at the bar. He’d been arrested. Stephanie had pulled the trigger on both barrels, claiming Chad was an unfit father, violent and never there.
Although he’d never seen Chad violent and didn’t agree with that accusation, sometimes Hunter wondered if Stephanie hadn’t made the best decision. Then he felt guilty and disloyal for wondering. Hunter’s parents were now in the process of filing for visitation rights. Chad wasn’t the only one who’d been hurt in the process.
Hunter climbed out of his car and walked up the steps to bang on his brother’s door.
Footsteps sounded.
When the Smoke Clears (Deadly Reunions) Page 12