Smoky Mountain Investigation

by Annslee Urban

“Yes, why?”

  “I have a hunch. Do you think you can locate them quickly?” Now that the police wanted to question him, time was really of the essence.

  “I had all my photos put on disc a couple years ago. There are thousands of pictures on twelve discs, so it could take me a little time.”

  “You took some photos of the camp from one of the overlooks just before nightfall. Blow them up and see what you find. I’ll be by shortly.”

  “What am I looking for?”

  “Anything unusual. When you find it, you’ll know.”

  “Okay.”

  * * *

  On her trek to the spare bedroom, Kylie shook off a chill. She hadn’t looked at the photos Nick referred to in years. And even then she’d only glimpsed them.

  She entered the room, marched to the closet and pulled open the door. Small boxes and plastic tubs lined the top shelf and larger ones took up the space on the floor. She popped a hand on her hip as her gaze skittered from one container to the next. She’d been meaning to organize this stuff.

  If I were a disc, where would I be? She huffed out a breath. Up on her toes, she reached for a cardboard box on the top shelf and started with that.

  Forty minutes and five storage containers later, she pulled out a CD case with twelve discs inside. She dropped into her swivel desk chair and wiggled the mouse until the screen saver popped up. She loaded the disc labeled High School Years.

  Sucking on the corner of her lip, Kylie sat forward and scrolled through a menagerie of photos, sweet memories drifting through her mind as she glimpsed silly pictures of her and Nick. And every glance made the love in her heart expand.

  Tamping down her growing sentiment, she continued to scan the images. Hundreds rolled by, and toward the end of the album, the first picture from the mountain appeared. It was of the sunset. She could still picture it. Such a beautiful evening that had ended so tragically.

  Poor Conrad. The memory loomed in her mind and her heart broke for the hundredth time.

  Before the melancholy thoughts could take over, she moved on to the next photos. Finally one from the overlook came into view. The panoramic picture of the camp. Late-May dusk hovered over the scene, backlit by the last remnants of the glowing sunset.

  Kylie double clicked on the edit-picture button on the right column of the screen. She enlarged the photo and lightened it. Squinting one eye, she zeroed in on the two-story cabin. It was a short walk from the girls’ cottages, nestled in the pine trees and nearly camouflaged by the stand of evergreens except for a patch of yard beyond the back deck.

  And in that small field, a figure appeared. She clicked the mouse to enlarge again. Her mouth gaped.

  It was a man, carrying something.

  Frantically she clicked the mouse over and over, trying to enlarge the picture enough to see who it was. The little figure grew larger, but the clarity was lost.

  Huffing a sigh, she reduced the size a bit and then flung open the desk drawer. She dug around and located a magnifying glass.

  Holding it to the screen, she leaned in and squinted again. She made out the man’s thick physique, the black cowboy hat on his head and a plaid shirt as he carried something in his arms. Someone?

  Dropping the magnifier, Kylie fell back in her seat, holding her chest. Her heart constricted so tightly she wasn’t sure it would ever pump normally again. Only one person at camp had dressed like that. And it had to be Conrad he was carrying.

  Disbelief barbed through her, making her shudder. How could he do such a thing!

  With that question still assailing her, she caught a movement from the corner of her eye. She whipped her head around to the door. It stood ajar. Her gaze tunneled through the open space and down the short hall to the living room. There was nothing.

  Kylie got to her feet. A sinking feeling hit the pit of her stomach. She needed to inform Nick about what she’d found. She quickly headed into the living room to retrieve her cell phone.

  As she jogged around the corner, she abruptly halted, so fast she almost lost her balance. She grabbed a chair and righted herself, her breath catching as she stared at the man who stood a few yards away, just inside the front door.

  His icy green eyes firmly locked on hers as he returned her stare.

  “Good afternoon, Kylie.” His dry tone revealed even more than the coldness in his eyes. He was there for her.

  “Dave.” She breathed only the one word.

  * * *

  Nick placed the heated bowl of soup in front of Steven. “What else can I do before I take off?”

  “Not a thing. Nadine will be here soon.”

  Good. Nick was already running later than he planned. He sat down across from Steven and stepped into his boots.

  Steven dipped his spoon into the bowl. “If Kylie locates the photos you asked her about, what do you expect she’ll find?”

  Nick finished tying his shoelaces and sat up. “Maybe nothing, but you never know where hidden treasure lurks.”

  “True.” Steven smacked his lips. “Wow. This soup is hot.”

  Nick’s lack of culinary skills rose to the surface. “I guess eight minutes in the microwave is too much.”

  “Yeah. By about six minutes.”

  “Good info. I’ll remember that.” Nick chuckled and got to his feet. He glanced at the yearbook still on the table. He flipped to page eighty-three. He ran his eyes across the faces one last time.

  “Nick, we have company.”

  Nick’s head snapped up. Through the kitchen window, he watched two police cars pull into the driveway. This was getting serious.

  He glanced at the yearbook picture again, his gaze landing on Dave Michelson’s picture. His crooked smirk. His placid eyes.

  Jaw clenching, Nick shot another look out the window. Four officers stepped out of patrol cars. He knew none of them. Dave was the chief investigative detective. He ran the department and had worked elbow to elbow with Nick on the case. Where was he now?

  Nick’s mind was reeling. Dave had shared information with him, more than he needed to, and now he was out to get Nick. Interesting.

  Ice poured through his veins. His thoughts came to a screeching halt as the pieces fell into place.

  It was Dave.

  He grabbed his cell phone and punched Kylie’s number.

  “Steven, take your time getting to the door. Stall them, tell them whatever you want,” he said, holding the phone to his ear and heading toward the basement stairs.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I think Dave Michelson is the culprit. And whatever he has planned, he wants me out of the way.”

  “How are you going to get out of here without them knowing?” Steven called after him.

  “Back road, buddy. For once your cycle will come in handy.”

  Nick bounded down the basement steps, the phone still to his ear. Kylie wasn’t answering. Something was wrong.

  A punch of adrenaline rocked through him. He slipped out through the basement door. Staying low and close to the outside wall, he tramped through the overgrown weeds shooting out from cracked ground by the foundation.

  At the corner of the house, he hazarded a glance to the four officers waiting for Steven to open the door.

  Good job, brother.

  With measured steps, Nick made his way across the rocky ground to the side of garage. He was grateful he hadn’t pulled the bike inside. Maybe God was looking out for him. That thought brought some peace.

  With his boot, he eased up the kickstand, then silently pushed the motorcycle back into the woods behind the house. Out of earshot, he jumped on the bike and took off across the rocky terrain. Fifteen minutes to Kylie. Lord, protect her!

  NINETEEN

  The crazed look in Dave’s eyes kept Kylie rooted in place. “What do you want, Dave?”

  A slow smirk inched across his jaw. “You, Kylie. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  Stunned and disbelieving, Kylie grappled for her voice. “Dave, I had no
idea you felt that way about me.”

  Garbled laughter rumbled from his chest. “You knew, Kylie. You just chose not to acknowledge the truth.” His assumption shocked her more, jarring intrusively in her ears.

  Her knees shaking, Kylie reached for a semblance of composure. She needed to stay calm. In a single glance she gauged the distance between her and the kitchen, wondering if she stood a chance of making it there and out the side door. Then she remembered the new dead bolt she’d recently installed. The key was on her key ring along with the canister of pepper spray Nick had given her.

  Her heart slipped, but she kept her chin up. “What truth are you referring to, Dave?”

  With a smug tilt to his head, Dave grinned again. “That you and I were meant to be together, of course.”

  Now Kylie was completely dumbfounded. Her mouth fell open. “How could you think that?” The moment the words tumbled off her tongue, she wished them back.

  Dave’s features hardened. “For the last ten years I’ve been in the background of your life. If you had paid attention, you would have noticed.” He advanced one step. The anger that lit in his eyes coiled a knot in Kylie’s stomach.

  She swallowed thickly. “Over the years I’ve seen you at various functions in town and at church. I would have never guessed that you were there because of me.”

  His expression eased some. After a pause, he responded, “I knew Nick had hurt you. I was waiting until the timing was right and I thought that time was getting close. But then,” he strongly enunciated, “I had Nick to contend with again. I got rid of him once, but as it turned out, not for good. The man couldn’t stay away.”

  Pressing a hand to her throat, Kylie worked to stay calm. She met Dave’s intense gaze to hold his attention. Keep him talking. She was buying minutes. “Nick came back to help his brother after the accident.”

  “No!” Dave’s brow furrowed and he wagged his head. “That was only his excuse to sneak back into your life.”

  Kylie’s jaw dropped at the fabrication. Only an obsessive mind would jump to such a conclusion.

  “I want you to understand how conniving Nick Bentley is.” Dave moved another step in her direction. Fear detonated in her chest.

  Fighting to even breathe, Kylie managed a weak nod, encouraging him to keep talking. Lord, please get Nick here before it’s too late.

  “Do you realize how hard I worked to orchestrate such a perfect plan?” Some steel in Dave’s voice now. He lifted a clenched fist. “A body at the airport to mark Nick’s arrival and when I found out you planned to be there also, the plot turned flawless. I thought for certain that Nick would turn and run at the sight of the first slaughtered victim, like he had after Conrad’s murder. I wanted you to see the kind of man he was so you could move on once and for all.”

  Kylie felt her body stiffen. And fall into Dave’s arms? He was crazy.

  Dave shook his head. “I would have been there for you, Kylie. I’ve been waiting patiently all this time.”

  The puzzle pieces started to match up. Fear bubbled up in Kylie’s chest, and to stave off the panic, she kept reminding herself Nick should be arriving any moment.

  “I had no idea you cared so much,” Kylie finally said.

  “Because you only wanted Nick!” he shrieked before his voice softened. “Now that he’s back, he’s all you think about.”

  “That’s not true.” Kylie swallowed. “Nick was just trying to help me. We’re friends.”

  “No!” Dave’s distorted expression made her jump. He strode even closer, jabbing a stubby finger at her face. “You couldn’t stay away from him. How could I trust you again?”

  Kylie threw up her palm. “You can trust me.” Her body tensed; her gaze flicked between Dave and the window, praying to see Nick rushing up.

  As if Dave could read her mind, he broke into a cynical laugh. “If you’re looking for Bentley, you can forget it. He won’t be coming.”

  That brought her gaze back to him in a hurry. “Why would you say that?”

  “About now—” Dave twisted his thick wrist and checked his watch “—Nick should be at the station, getting booked and fingerprinted.”

  Kylie swallowed again, fear clenching her gut. Her brain scrambled for words to defuse him, to gain his trust. Thoughts raced wildly; she snatched one. “It doesn’t matter if Nick doesn’t come. It’s actually better that way.”

  His brow furrowed, he looked amused. “Why is that, Kylie?”

  “Well,” she said, stepping back and bumping against the doorjamb, “I wouldn’t want him to get hurt on my account.”

  “He will be hurt,” Dave rasped, smiling at her. “Mark my words.”

  It took a moment for Dave’s words to sink in. He had plans for Nick. Like he had plans for her. Clenching her fists, she stared at him, stared into the eyes of her stalker. Psychopathic eyes. A serial murderer. Her heart lurched. God, help me!

  He was going to kill her.

  “Kylie, I had so hoped for a future for us. But now it seems all you want is Nick. I hate it has to end like this.” He continued toward her. She noticed a latex glove jutting from his pocket. “After today, there will be another unsolved murder in Asheville. Too bad you won’t be around to report on it.”

  Fear washed away any thread of composure she had left. She had to get away from him. Even if she couldn’t make it out of the house, she needed something to protect herself.

  Without a second thought, she broke into a run, daring only one glance back as she rushed for the kitchen. Dave lunged after her, the thud of his boots beating against the polished hardwood.

  Yanking a chair from the table, she sent it skidding across the floor, slamming into him.

  Cursing and screaming, Dave kicked the chair aside. “Kylie, you’re making this difficult!”

  Good. She reached for the cast-iron skillet on the stove, her fingers tightening around the handle.

  Dave’s hard hand grabbed her by the arm, yanking her away and sending her stumbling back against his chest. The force of the impact knocked air from her lungs.

  His brawny arms tightened around her. “They always run first,” he grunted, pressing his lips against her ear. “But they never win.”

  That knowledge only made her fight harder. She didn’t want to end up like one of them. Struggling to breathe, she wrenched wildly, trying to break his hold. “Dave, don’t do this.” She gave a hoarse shriek.

  “Stop fighting!” he demanded, his tone gritty. As his grip eased up a fraction, she lobbed an elbow into his ribs.

  He growled and she screamed, “Let me go!” Her cry was quickly abated by his crushing hold.

  “That’s enough.” He jerked her up, hugging her small frame against his body, her feet suspended off the floor. Adrenaline kicked up her heart rate and spurred her on. Gulping for air, she kicked frantically and dug her heel into his shin.

  “Ouch!” he groaned, releasing his grip. She tumbled to the floor. She fell against the kitchen cabinet, her legs like rubber as she started to stand.

  He hauled her up to a full upright position, then whirled her back to him. “Don’t play like this, Kylie. You’ll only make things worse.” Hot breath poured down her neck, sending chills rippling along her skin. Worse didn’t seem possible.

  “Please stop, Dave.” She bucked and squirmed against him as he dragged her across the kitchen, the heels of her shoes dancing along the wood floor.

  Halfway across the room, he halted, propped his hip against the table edge, and with her still locked in his embrace, he managed to extract the gloves from his pocket.

  “I never wanted it to come to this. I had such nice plans for us.”

  “Plans? Tell me about them.” She struggled to speak around the lump of fear in her windpipe.

  “None of that matters anymore,” Dave snarled, wrestling his hand into one of the surgical gloves. “Ten years ago, Nick Bentley was supposed to die. Instead he let Conrad die instead, while he went tromping through the forest with you.
If only he’d been where he was supposed to be, none of this would have happened.”

  So it was Nick he’d wanted all along. Dread gnawed at Kylie’s stomach. If Nick had been with Conrad that night, Dave would have killed him, too.

  Dave’s grip tightened, hugging her closer, making it difficult to breathe. Kylie stilled for a moment, hoping he’d let up some. “Tell me the plans you had for us,” she gasped, trying to change his focus to something other than killing her.

  “I told you, it’s too late for that. You’ve already crossed the line with Nick. Again!” His tone edged sharper with each spoken word.

  As Dave battled with the second glove, his grip relaxed enough for Kylie to take a breath. This was her chance. Gritting her teeth, she slammed her head back into Dave’s chin. Before his ragged groan hit her eardrums, she broke away from him and took off for the front door.

  To her horror, Dave beat her there, blocking her way. “Kylie, my sweet Kylie.” He shook his head, his breathing rapid. “You need to stop this.”

  Not on your life. She grabbed a lamp off a table, her breathing coming in short spurts. Shuffling back, she created more distance between them. She needed to wear him out or somehow convince him to come to his senses.

  “Dave, you don’t have to do this.” She held the lamp above her head as endless prayers raced through her mind.

  Slow and calculated, Dave snapped his gloves into place. Giving her a cynical look, he moved across the floor, his cold green eyes fixed on her. “Drop the lamp, Kylie.”

  Fear coiled more tightly inside her with each step he took, followed by a shudder that shook her whole body. Clutching the lamp in a death grip, she continued to hold her ground, continued to pray, worked to breathe.

  “I wanted to make this simple, Kylie.” Dave’s voice broke. But his flat tone bore an edge of impatience, sending dread coursing through her veins. “Unfortunately, you’ve given me no choice.”

  Kylie’s breath snagged as Dave hunched his shoulders and broke into a sprint, rushing at her like a defensive linebacker.

  She let go of the lamp, sending it crashing onto the floor, glass shards scattering. Spinning on her heel, she tore across the room, but Dave gained on her quickly, and in one clumsy tackle he took her to the floor.